As much as I dislike grief, in the past several months of sitting with it, I have discovered a gift. The gift of sorrow is that when I actually notice and accept that I am feeling it, I stop. I take it seriously. I find the moment. It is as if there is a part of me that has me in training, sort of like a puppy. I hear a voice say calmly, "Sit. Stay." I have a very kind and loving owner.
Making space for grief is easier than I thought it would be. I never tried before because I spent a lifetime trying to appear busy. Busy people are important and necessary. Busy people are more valuable. Busy people matter. Plus, I liked accomplishing goals. I had proof that I mattered. See this, I did this. I made this.
Busy is fine unless you never stop being busy. Any time I took a break, I felt pain, deep sorrow. I'd feel sad, and think, this is not a good time. I didn't like the powerlessness of sorrow. I liked the powerful feeling I had while being busy. So, I kept busy. I stayed a half step ahead of the pain. You can even stay busy in therapy. I sounded like I was evolving, sharing things that were incredibly painful. I would dump this painful drama, and get some approval. I felt relief on my way back to work.
I would hear people talk about peace and serenity. I thought that peace and serenity was the feeling I had when a project came off on-time and under-budget. I thought peace and serenity was getting awards, getting approval from bosses, parents, partners, anyone, everyone.
About five years into the full-court press, I collapsed. My body, mind and spirit went down. Total shutdown, oh, this must be peace. It was as close as I had ever been. I slept for 2 years. Total shut down masquerading as peace.
I seemed to have 2 speeds.: 150 mph, dead stop. I had 2 choices: change or die. Maybe a third, stay this way for a very long time and wish I was dead. They all sounded bad to me.
I thought I wanted change, but really I wanted to do the busy plan a little less so that I could avoid sorrow and also avoid landing flat on my butt again.
In the last year, two very important women in my life died. One was 93 years old; the other was 24. One was anticipated; the other was a catastrophe. The pain was undeniable. What I needed to do was obvious. The pain made me willing to do it.
Sit. Stay.
The result of sitting and staying is that I have felt a lot of pain. Strangely enough, I have also felt a lot of joy, and anger, and just about every other feeling a person can have. Best of all, I have felt peace and serenity, more than every. Unprecedented.
So the gift of the grief is sitting and staying. My prayer is that I will more and more remember to sit and stay with all the other feelings. None of them requires any immediate action. I can't seem to remember this when I am angry or scared. However, there is progress. I'll get busy with the dandelions or running errands, feel powerful for an hour, get exhausted and sit. The process takes a day or two instead of a decade or two. I actually use my level of business as a clue. If I am really enjoying being busy, I'll ask myself, is there something that I am not wanting to feel?
The only way for me to really figure it out is to sit and stay.
May 23, 2008
May 18, 2008
To Yank or Not to Yank
The dandelions are back. Last year, I considered every physical challenge carefully, evaluating it's impact on my tricky lower back. Digging out dandelions didn't make the cut. I was not about to risk of losing my summer to back pain over a temporary problem.
One Saturday morning, I went to a memorial service, and when I arrived home, the dandelions were gone. I felt relieved that we wouldn't be perceived as the trash of the neighborhood, and thanked my husband for the wonderful surprise.
"I didn't do it," he said, "I think you know who did."
The neighbors. The ones who inspired the blog, No Put Downs, Just Put Ups.
My interactions with them have brought me to the bleeding edge of my spiritual growth. I have learned much from them in the last year. All of it has been painful. I am not grateful. I do not like this pain. I do not want to soften and heal. I want them to move. I never get that lucky.
I have felt attacked by their words, their actions, their offspring.
On that sunny Saturday in May last year, they depleted my lawn of dandelions, without asking. I'm sure they thought they meant well. They were doing something nice which also protected their lawn from our dandelion spawn. Funnily enough, they hosted a large gathering at their home a couple of days later. I rewarded them with a pie, and my silence. I have avoided speaking to them for a year.
I must remember that the key to successfully doing something for someone else is that they not find out who did it. Otherwise, it feels disrespectful, such as, you do not have the skills or the smarts or the money to do the job right, so I will do it for you. I am better than you. I know what's best. The person receiving this kind of help, ends up helpless, and in my case, embarrassed and angry.
I spent the fall and winter lifting weights at the gym. I am on my way. I am strong. I have more physical options when it comes to my back. So, I purchased a weed puller. Ingenious gadget. There are nails stuck to a stick that you step on and then pull up the weed.
I started focusing on the dandelions. With the first 50 or so, I repeated the mantra, screw you. I was meditating on attack. This can't be good, I thought.
When I finished yanking for the day, I went in the house, and, instead of feeling a sense of accomplishment, I felt even more irritable. Worse yet, every time I blinked my eyes, I saw the imprint of dandelion leaves on my eyes. The image had burned onto my eyeballs like computer screen without a screen saver.
I had to ask myself, why am I doing this? Is this the same as popping zits on my face? It seems like I am taking care of myself, but I am creating scars and spreading bacteria? Am I doing this for myself or to keep them out of my yard?
Clearly, I am conflicted not just about the dandelions and neighbors. The importance of appearance rears it's ugly head, again.
A couple of days ago, I decided to deal only with the dandelions that had produced a flower. This felt more manageable, and I had a sense of accomplishment when I finished. I thought of it as maintenance instead of punishment. I actually had fun.
There are plenty more out there today. To yank, or not to yank? This is the question.
One Saturday morning, I went to a memorial service, and when I arrived home, the dandelions were gone. I felt relieved that we wouldn't be perceived as the trash of the neighborhood, and thanked my husband for the wonderful surprise.
"I didn't do it," he said, "I think you know who did."
The neighbors. The ones who inspired the blog, No Put Downs, Just Put Ups.
My interactions with them have brought me to the bleeding edge of my spiritual growth. I have learned much from them in the last year. All of it has been painful. I am not grateful. I do not like this pain. I do not want to soften and heal. I want them to move. I never get that lucky.
I have felt attacked by their words, their actions, their offspring.
On that sunny Saturday in May last year, they depleted my lawn of dandelions, without asking. I'm sure they thought they meant well. They were doing something nice which also protected their lawn from our dandelion spawn. Funnily enough, they hosted a large gathering at their home a couple of days later. I rewarded them with a pie, and my silence. I have avoided speaking to them for a year.
I must remember that the key to successfully doing something for someone else is that they not find out who did it. Otherwise, it feels disrespectful, such as, you do not have the skills or the smarts or the money to do the job right, so I will do it for you. I am better than you. I know what's best. The person receiving this kind of help, ends up helpless, and in my case, embarrassed and angry.
I spent the fall and winter lifting weights at the gym. I am on my way. I am strong. I have more physical options when it comes to my back. So, I purchased a weed puller. Ingenious gadget. There are nails stuck to a stick that you step on and then pull up the weed.
I started focusing on the dandelions. With the first 50 or so, I repeated the mantra, screw you. I was meditating on attack. This can't be good, I thought.
When I finished yanking for the day, I went in the house, and, instead of feeling a sense of accomplishment, I felt even more irritable. Worse yet, every time I blinked my eyes, I saw the imprint of dandelion leaves on my eyes. The image had burned onto my eyeballs like computer screen without a screen saver.
I had to ask myself, why am I doing this? Is this the same as popping zits on my face? It seems like I am taking care of myself, but I am creating scars and spreading bacteria? Am I doing this for myself or to keep them out of my yard?
Clearly, I am conflicted not just about the dandelions and neighbors. The importance of appearance rears it's ugly head, again.
A couple of days ago, I decided to deal only with the dandelions that had produced a flower. This felt more manageable, and I had a sense of accomplishment when I finished. I thought of it as maintenance instead of punishment. I actually had fun.
There are plenty more out there today. To yank, or not to yank? This is the question.
May 8, 2008
No Put Downs, Just Put Ups
My kid got the first 2-wheeler, plus 2 training wheels yesterday. This was thrilling for all of us, especially my husband whose favorite pastime is biking. He got a little moist watching one of the inaugural runs.
We were having a grand time. I was laughing and clapping as the kiddo practiced starting and stopping and turning around. There were three minor blowouts on the turns, but no blood.
We were joined by a neighbor boy who saw the new bike from across the street and announnced, "My bike is way better than yours." Then he counted the ways.
I was sitting on the front step with the phone on my ear, on hold with Qwest. I cautioned, "Keep riding." I really hoped that somehow this situation would go differently. Isn't that what they call denial? I watched this boy verbally piss on my kid's new bike.
I was angry. I have been angry with this family for a year.
Mostly, I was afraid that if I spoke to the boy that I would invite the wrath of his parents. I find these people emotionally abusive, and erratic. Every time I leave their company, I feel slimed. These people are the biggest bullies I have ever known.
After a very long summer last year of me trying to make nice, I did the only thing I could think of - I stayed away. If they come out, we go in. It has gone well, especially since we haven't been outside for 6 months. I have managed not to speak to any of them since last fall, until today.
I have prayed for these people. I have visualized white light around them. I have affirmed their innocence. I have tried to focus on the good in them, but I am tired of their behavior.
Just writing this makes me feel sick with resentment. To date, the only thing that made sense to me was to retreat. Last fall I told my kid, "We aren't going to spend any time with them anymore because we want to be treated with kindness and respect. We deserve to be treated with respect." Kiddo agreed.
I was mad. I knew I had to let it go. I called a friend and shared my anger. Puked it up, actually. Not surprisingly, it escalated. I forgot that staying in the moment would have been to feel the anger and let it pass without making it real. Oops.
I asked for a miracle.
Then another friend called. She shared with me that in her family there is a "No Put Downs" zone. If anyone in or around her family starts belittling anyone, they simply say, "No put downs. Just put ups."
The thought of having another way to deal with difficult people was so mind blowing that I had to write it down.
No Put Downs. The thought that I could claim this truth is radical. Could the solution be so simple? Usually, for me, they are just that simple. I'm just too jammed up to see it.
I feel scared to try it. I would prefer to use a large, tangible stick instead of an affirmation, but seems like lately the answers to my most difficult problems come in the form of these simple, implausible solutions. Sit instead of run. Forgive instead of resent. Feel instead of talk. Listen instead of fix. Change the subject instead of confront.
I could see the No Put Downs zone working, but only of I were detached from the situation. In other words, not keeping score, blaming, or harboring old feelings of hurt and victimization. Now that would be a miracle.
So, if there are only Put Ups, what woud that look like?
I heard recently that if you want to experience uninterrupted joy, celebrate the joys of others. If I am happy for other's blessings, I will always be happy. This is the root of happiness.
Do we teach our children this principle or do they already know it? I suspect that each of us has both joy and jealousy hard-wired in us. We can choose either one at any time.
I want my kid to see me choose joy, and, choose it for herself as the default setting; therefore, we celebrate.
God bless us all.
We were having a grand time. I was laughing and clapping as the kiddo practiced starting and stopping and turning around. There were three minor blowouts on the turns, but no blood.
We were joined by a neighbor boy who saw the new bike from across the street and announnced, "My bike is way better than yours." Then he counted the ways.
I was sitting on the front step with the phone on my ear, on hold with Qwest. I cautioned, "Keep riding." I really hoped that somehow this situation would go differently. Isn't that what they call denial? I watched this boy verbally piss on my kid's new bike.
I was angry. I have been angry with this family for a year.
Mostly, I was afraid that if I spoke to the boy that I would invite the wrath of his parents. I find these people emotionally abusive, and erratic. Every time I leave their company, I feel slimed. These people are the biggest bullies I have ever known.
After a very long summer last year of me trying to make nice, I did the only thing I could think of - I stayed away. If they come out, we go in. It has gone well, especially since we haven't been outside for 6 months. I have managed not to speak to any of them since last fall, until today.
I have prayed for these people. I have visualized white light around them. I have affirmed their innocence. I have tried to focus on the good in them, but I am tired of their behavior.
Just writing this makes me feel sick with resentment. To date, the only thing that made sense to me was to retreat. Last fall I told my kid, "We aren't going to spend any time with them anymore because we want to be treated with kindness and respect. We deserve to be treated with respect." Kiddo agreed.
I was mad. I knew I had to let it go. I called a friend and shared my anger. Puked it up, actually. Not surprisingly, it escalated. I forgot that staying in the moment would have been to feel the anger and let it pass without making it real. Oops.
I asked for a miracle.
Then another friend called. She shared with me that in her family there is a "No Put Downs" zone. If anyone in or around her family starts belittling anyone, they simply say, "No put downs. Just put ups."
The thought of having another way to deal with difficult people was so mind blowing that I had to write it down.
No Put Downs. The thought that I could claim this truth is radical. Could the solution be so simple? Usually, for me, they are just that simple. I'm just too jammed up to see it.
I feel scared to try it. I would prefer to use a large, tangible stick instead of an affirmation, but seems like lately the answers to my most difficult problems come in the form of these simple, implausible solutions. Sit instead of run. Forgive instead of resent. Feel instead of talk. Listen instead of fix. Change the subject instead of confront.
I could see the No Put Downs zone working, but only of I were detached from the situation. In other words, not keeping score, blaming, or harboring old feelings of hurt and victimization. Now that would be a miracle.
So, if there are only Put Ups, what woud that look like?
I heard recently that if you want to experience uninterrupted joy, celebrate the joys of others. If I am happy for other's blessings, I will always be happy. This is the root of happiness.
Do we teach our children this principle or do they already know it? I suspect that each of us has both joy and jealousy hard-wired in us. We can choose either one at any time.
I want my kid to see me choose joy, and, choose it for herself as the default setting; therefore, we celebrate.
God bless us all.
May 7, 2008
Dear Gentle Reader
Blessings to my one reader. I hope you experience a hundred-fold return of the blessing I receive from the loving attention that you pay to my noodling. I am doing my best to fulfill your requests to write more often.
∞
∞
Selfish! Who Me?
I really can be selfish. I've known this fact for some time, but I never saw it in quite this way. My husband and I bought a starter home a few years ago that was in need of a lot of attention. I participated in this fantasy that we would fix it up and then sell it.
My fantasy was that my husband would do all of the work, and I would make lunch. Not only did I have a fixed idea of how the work would get done, but I also had a timeframe in mind - yesterday.
My main strategy to get my husband to do what I want, when I want it done is control. This control has many forms. For example, we procured a wooden swingset at no cost for our kid. Again, I made the plan; he was supposed to execute it immediately.
The swingset is in the garage. Summer slips by quickly in Minnesota. This is the beginning of my case against my husband. I start the conversation: what day are you going to gather your friends and put up the swingset for kiddo? You better get it on the calendar because people book up. Oh I am so crafty. Doesn't sound like control, does it? Hmmm.
Then the nagging begins. When, when, when, when? All of these when's are spaced out over several weeks.
Next, the kid is outside playing on the large posts splayed on the backyard sidewalk that are too short to use. He says: get away from those posts; you'll hurt yourself. I say: that's the swingset; she likes it. If you don't want her to play on it, move them. Trust me, I said it kind of nasty.
Over the last months, the more I pushed for a resolution, the less he wanted to resolve it. I wonder why? Perhaps most folks are not inspired by sideways comments and demands for agreements.
I called a friend for sanity. He said to go to the lumber yard and get the posts. They would load them into my car, and we could carry them to the back yard. This sounded logical. If I wanted some movement regarding this situation, I had to get moving. I blurted out before I could sensor myself: But I don't want to do anything! I don't want to learn how to do this stuff! I want it to get done all by itself!
Typically, I would have edited those last thoughts so that I wouldn't have to see my own selfishness. I am not in the habit of acknowledging these type of character traits unless my back is in the corner. Even then, it was more like "uncle" than, "yes, you are right."
Meditation has shown me some truly beautiful, surprising things about myself. There has been tenderness, loving-kindness, faith, joy and more.
I have also opened to some other aspects of my character like pettiness, anger, crabbiness, and, now, selfishness. The good news is that I actually laughed out loud at my temper fit about not wanting to do anything. So there it is. All of my pushing and shoving to force a solution. Again.
Thank goodness that all of it is no big deal. The things I like and the things I don't like are the same. The difference is that with meditation, I can accept it all, little by slowly.
I hung up the phone, deciding that I would let it go and talk about it another time when I could be more loving without an agenda.
My husband walked in the room with sort of a plan. I think there was room for him to do this because I let go, and gave him a moment of psychic space.
I, in turn, took out some of the trash.
My fantasy was that my husband would do all of the work, and I would make lunch. Not only did I have a fixed idea of how the work would get done, but I also had a timeframe in mind - yesterday.
My main strategy to get my husband to do what I want, when I want it done is control. This control has many forms. For example, we procured a wooden swingset at no cost for our kid. Again, I made the plan; he was supposed to execute it immediately.
The swingset is in the garage. Summer slips by quickly in Minnesota. This is the beginning of my case against my husband. I start the conversation: what day are you going to gather your friends and put up the swingset for kiddo? You better get it on the calendar because people book up. Oh I am so crafty. Doesn't sound like control, does it? Hmmm.
Then the nagging begins. When, when, when, when? All of these when's are spaced out over several weeks.
Next, the kid is outside playing on the large posts splayed on the backyard sidewalk that are too short to use. He says: get away from those posts; you'll hurt yourself. I say: that's the swingset; she likes it. If you don't want her to play on it, move them. Trust me, I said it kind of nasty.
Over the last months, the more I pushed for a resolution, the less he wanted to resolve it. I wonder why? Perhaps most folks are not inspired by sideways comments and demands for agreements.
I called a friend for sanity. He said to go to the lumber yard and get the posts. They would load them into my car, and we could carry them to the back yard. This sounded logical. If I wanted some movement regarding this situation, I had to get moving. I blurted out before I could sensor myself: But I don't want to do anything! I don't want to learn how to do this stuff! I want it to get done all by itself!
Typically, I would have edited those last thoughts so that I wouldn't have to see my own selfishness. I am not in the habit of acknowledging these type of character traits unless my back is in the corner. Even then, it was more like "uncle" than, "yes, you are right."
Meditation has shown me some truly beautiful, surprising things about myself. There has been tenderness, loving-kindness, faith, joy and more.
I have also opened to some other aspects of my character like pettiness, anger, crabbiness, and, now, selfishness. The good news is that I actually laughed out loud at my temper fit about not wanting to do anything. So there it is. All of my pushing and shoving to force a solution. Again.
Thank goodness that all of it is no big deal. The things I like and the things I don't like are the same. The difference is that with meditation, I can accept it all, little by slowly.
I hung up the phone, deciding that I would let it go and talk about it another time when I could be more loving without an agenda.
My husband walked in the room with sort of a plan. I think there was room for him to do this because I let go, and gave him a moment of psychic space.
I, in turn, took out some of the trash.
May 6, 2008
Let Her Be
I understand Miley Cyrus being essentially naked in a photograph in Vanity Fair. She has to launch her career into the adult world, growing up her current fans in the process before they move on. Of course. Strategically, I get it.
Our girls want a role model who is smart, talented, cute and worldly.
Parents want to believe that our daughters ought to have a role model who is smart, talented, cute and worldly without being sexual.
I don't have a problem with Miley Cyrus as a sexual being. We all are sexual beings. I have become so used to young women using their sexuality to their advantage that it really doesn't faze me. It would surprise me if she didn't. Heck, I did the same thing myself. Using sexuality for attention is a cheap thrill, a temporary ego boost. It's a way in which can work in the short run, but the young woman needs to back it up with substance.
So what if she is a role model. She's got role models, most recently Britney Spears, and Christina Aguilara. There is a well worn path for transforming from the girl next door to "I'm all grown up," hot girl next door. It's a bore.
What I want to know is why no one is asking why this role model is so thin that her ribs are protruding from her back. This is how we treat our role models: a young girl can waste away before our eyes as long as she preserves the illusion of purity.
Instead of concerning ourselves with her image as a role model, maybe we should concern ourselves with the girl and her well being. We have lost of lovely and perfect role models in pursuit of image management such as Judy Garland, or Karen Carpenter.
Let us all take the focus off of the Miley we think we need her to be, and let her be a lovely young girl who needs protection, love and understanding as she discerns who she really is. The rest of us don't get a vote. If we can give her this kind of support, we would be the true role models. I am happy to wait for you Miley.
Our girls want a role model who is smart, talented, cute and worldly.
Parents want to believe that our daughters ought to have a role model who is smart, talented, cute and worldly without being sexual.
I don't have a problem with Miley Cyrus as a sexual being. We all are sexual beings. I have become so used to young women using their sexuality to their advantage that it really doesn't faze me. It would surprise me if she didn't. Heck, I did the same thing myself. Using sexuality for attention is a cheap thrill, a temporary ego boost. It's a way in which can work in the short run, but the young woman needs to back it up with substance.
So what if she is a role model. She's got role models, most recently Britney Spears, and Christina Aguilara. There is a well worn path for transforming from the girl next door to "I'm all grown up," hot girl next door. It's a bore.
What I want to know is why no one is asking why this role model is so thin that her ribs are protruding from her back. This is how we treat our role models: a young girl can waste away before our eyes as long as she preserves the illusion of purity.
Instead of concerning ourselves with her image as a role model, maybe we should concern ourselves with the girl and her well being. We have lost of lovely and perfect role models in pursuit of image management such as Judy Garland, or Karen Carpenter.
Let us all take the focus off of the Miley we think we need her to be, and let her be a lovely young girl who needs protection, love and understanding as she discerns who she really is. The rest of us don't get a vote. If we can give her this kind of support, we would be the true role models. I am happy to wait for you Miley.
May 5, 2008
The Up Side of the Down Turn
Talk radio has gone hysterical. Today, most of the hosts talked about how to save money. People called in with suggestions: I got rid of my cell phone. I trade books with friends. I stopped buying DVDs. Seems to me that, if there can be an up side to the economy, it's that folks will maybe be better stewards of what they have. Maybe we will all do with our money what we should have been doing all along.
I think that is the approach I want to take. I am getting really tired of the drama because, frankly, I can escalate into hysteria quite easily. I seem to forget that I lack nothing. I have all I need, especially when I rely on the media for my sense of well-being and security.
A few months ago, Northwest and Delta Airlines announced that they were considering a merger. Someone said to me, "It's just awful. The merger would be just awful."
Huh, I thought. Why? I asked.
"Because plane tickets are going to go up," said she.
"What do I care?" I said, "I don't go anywhere."
I realize that there are plenty of people who do fly, that there are businesses that have to pay for employees to fly. Prices of everything go up when fuel prices go up. Rising prices effect us all. I get it. However, the fact for my life is that my husband and I have a small child, and we are on a budget. Our trips are centered around weddings and funerals. So, for us, the fact that plane tickets are going to cost more doesn't really affect our bottom-line. I am concerned about covering our needs, some reasonable wants, paying down debt, and saving.
I don't have enough serenity to worry about other people's plane tickets.
Affirming the abundance of the universe is always difficult, but it is basically impossible when the T.V. is on. So, I mostly abstain from relentless media coverage which feeds our fear and sense of lack. I try to protect myself from images and ideas in the same way I try to protect my kiddo from scary images on TV.
Last winter, I decided not to watch the news. I began the information detox. I was getting comfortable with the not knowing. I was almost clean, and then I thought that I ought to check out the weather. I need to know how to dress my kid in the morning, I told myself. I tuned in for the weather report during the 10 o'clock news. I saw hysteria: there will be 18 inches of snow tomorrow. It will be -50 degrees below zero, windchill.
I panicked. Oh my God. Why do we live here? How can I send a small child out in these arctic temperatures? Do we have enough groceries? What did I do in a past life to deserve this? And so the serenity goes. This is real. I saw it on the news. The world is closing in on me.
I get the groceries. I fill the gas tank. I buy salt for the walk. I am ready for the storm. I commiserate with ladies in the sauna at the gym. Isn't it awful? I am swept up into the drama. Since I had been living this way for at least thirty years, I feel completely cozy with fear, dread, and victimization. This is war. Me v. the weather.
Then the storm turns out to be about 2 inches and no colder than it has been lately. I feel manipulated. For me, living according to what the media tells me is the same as living with an alcoholic. It's always unpredictable, sometimes entertaining, and, ultimately, a collosal and demoralizing waste of energy.
My plan is to focus on my own checkbook, and stick my head out the door before I leave the house. I will put my energy into what I value the most: my serenity.
I think that is the approach I want to take. I am getting really tired of the drama because, frankly, I can escalate into hysteria quite easily. I seem to forget that I lack nothing. I have all I need, especially when I rely on the media for my sense of well-being and security.
A few months ago, Northwest and Delta Airlines announced that they were considering a merger. Someone said to me, "It's just awful. The merger would be just awful."
Huh, I thought. Why? I asked.
"Because plane tickets are going to go up," said she.
"What do I care?" I said, "I don't go anywhere."
I realize that there are plenty of people who do fly, that there are businesses that have to pay for employees to fly. Prices of everything go up when fuel prices go up. Rising prices effect us all. I get it. However, the fact for my life is that my husband and I have a small child, and we are on a budget. Our trips are centered around weddings and funerals. So, for us, the fact that plane tickets are going to cost more doesn't really affect our bottom-line. I am concerned about covering our needs, some reasonable wants, paying down debt, and saving.
I don't have enough serenity to worry about other people's plane tickets.
Affirming the abundance of the universe is always difficult, but it is basically impossible when the T.V. is on. So, I mostly abstain from relentless media coverage which feeds our fear and sense of lack. I try to protect myself from images and ideas in the same way I try to protect my kiddo from scary images on TV.
Last winter, I decided not to watch the news. I began the information detox. I was getting comfortable with the not knowing. I was almost clean, and then I thought that I ought to check out the weather. I need to know how to dress my kid in the morning, I told myself. I tuned in for the weather report during the 10 o'clock news. I saw hysteria: there will be 18 inches of snow tomorrow. It will be -50 degrees below zero, windchill.
I panicked. Oh my God. Why do we live here? How can I send a small child out in these arctic temperatures? Do we have enough groceries? What did I do in a past life to deserve this? And so the serenity goes. This is real. I saw it on the news. The world is closing in on me.
I get the groceries. I fill the gas tank. I buy salt for the walk. I am ready for the storm. I commiserate with ladies in the sauna at the gym. Isn't it awful? I am swept up into the drama. Since I had been living this way for at least thirty years, I feel completely cozy with fear, dread, and victimization. This is war. Me v. the weather.
Then the storm turns out to be about 2 inches and no colder than it has been lately. I feel manipulated. For me, living according to what the media tells me is the same as living with an alcoholic. It's always unpredictable, sometimes entertaining, and, ultimately, a collosal and demoralizing waste of energy.
My plan is to focus on my own checkbook, and stick my head out the door before I leave the house. I will put my energy into what I value the most: my serenity.
May 2, 2008
The Anti-Reality Show
I've been wondering lately what it would be like to live in a world where there was no second guessing of myself. Seems like I have reviewed every exchange I have had with every person I meet. How did that go? How did I act could I have done that better? Ugh. It is very exhausting. And boring. And comforting. And slightly strange. Definitely beyond constructive.
Most embarrassing of all, I sometimes do this review out loud. My husband has actually caught me repeating entire conversations with myself where I act out my part as well as the other person's under my breath. He'll ask me, "What?" Oh nothing. I feel scared even writing this for fear someone take my kid away.
I seem to be creating my own personal reality show. I was the star, director, producer, and narrator. So the review would begin, was that exchange worth mentioning to my friend? Would this one make the cut in terms of entertainment value? I always felt that I had to have something really fascinating and sexy to share or no one would listen. Maybe this is why I like the Bravo & the E channel so much. Reality, but better.
Even if I didn't think something was worthy of repeating to someone else, I would repeat them to myself as filler in my inner reality series. I think it used to be comforting to live the past; it was over and wouldn't change when everything else was so unknown and scary. I knew how the story ended. The current moment was new and therefore not to be trusted. Something really fun and spontaneous was just too big a risk. I'd rather have nothing happen at all than have it turn out not to my liking.
Meditation seems to be increasing my tolerance for not knowing. Still the events with peaks and valleys seem to be most likely for review.
Today, I shared some stuff with a group of about 70 people. I feel pretty satisfied with what I said, but I took some risks. I actually claimed my happiness in front of all of them. I said, "I am happy. I have never been happier. This is what I've always wanted." As I said it I was afraid that someone would criticize my happiness and then I wouldn't get to be happy anymore. Being at the effect of someone else's actions or reactions is an old habit of mine.
So, I felt vulnerable. I spoke the truth as I see it today. I put it out there, no bullshit.
I also felt quite elated. I was done. This fact contributed greatly to the elation. Also, taking a risk, revealing the things I like about myself as well as the things aren't so pretty is pretty thrilling. I think it's probably the most dangerous thing I do anymore.
After I was finished, I said to myself, let's not review the whole thing. Let's move on with your day. The producer came in anyway, but today I know that there was nothing wrong with what I said. I was thinking because I didn't want to feel the vulnerability and elation. It was pretty intense so I naturally control with thoughts of the past.
I did myself a favor and went to coffee with some of the folks who were there. The conversation was very grounding. It was fun to celebrate. I had a couple hours to myself. I decided to continue the celebration of progress. I treated myself to lunch and a trip to the bookstore. I was able to have a nice lunch all by myself without a complete internal video replay. It was so fun. Good food, good coffee and good books. These are a few of my favorite things.
Letting this old habit go is sort of like the landing of a plane. It comes in for a landing and touches down. It bounces up and touches down again and again until it rolls to a stop. If the plane just landed, it would be totally jarring to everyone on board. When I think of this habit of reviewing the past as in the process of landing, it's manageable. I can relax knowing it will land in time.
Most embarrassing of all, I sometimes do this review out loud. My husband has actually caught me repeating entire conversations with myself where I act out my part as well as the other person's under my breath. He'll ask me, "What?" Oh nothing. I feel scared even writing this for fear someone take my kid away.
I seem to be creating my own personal reality show. I was the star, director, producer, and narrator. So the review would begin, was that exchange worth mentioning to my friend? Would this one make the cut in terms of entertainment value? I always felt that I had to have something really fascinating and sexy to share or no one would listen. Maybe this is why I like the Bravo & the E channel so much. Reality, but better.
Even if I didn't think something was worthy of repeating to someone else, I would repeat them to myself as filler in my inner reality series. I think it used to be comforting to live the past; it was over and wouldn't change when everything else was so unknown and scary. I knew how the story ended. The current moment was new and therefore not to be trusted. Something really fun and spontaneous was just too big a risk. I'd rather have nothing happen at all than have it turn out not to my liking.
Meditation seems to be increasing my tolerance for not knowing. Still the events with peaks and valleys seem to be most likely for review.
Today, I shared some stuff with a group of about 70 people. I feel pretty satisfied with what I said, but I took some risks. I actually claimed my happiness in front of all of them. I said, "I am happy. I have never been happier. This is what I've always wanted." As I said it I was afraid that someone would criticize my happiness and then I wouldn't get to be happy anymore. Being at the effect of someone else's actions or reactions is an old habit of mine.
So, I felt vulnerable. I spoke the truth as I see it today. I put it out there, no bullshit.
I also felt quite elated. I was done. This fact contributed greatly to the elation. Also, taking a risk, revealing the things I like about myself as well as the things aren't so pretty is pretty thrilling. I think it's probably the most dangerous thing I do anymore.
After I was finished, I said to myself, let's not review the whole thing. Let's move on with your day. The producer came in anyway, but today I know that there was nothing wrong with what I said. I was thinking because I didn't want to feel the vulnerability and elation. It was pretty intense so I naturally control with thoughts of the past.
I did myself a favor and went to coffee with some of the folks who were there. The conversation was very grounding. It was fun to celebrate. I had a couple hours to myself. I decided to continue the celebration of progress. I treated myself to lunch and a trip to the bookstore. I was able to have a nice lunch all by myself without a complete internal video replay. It was so fun. Good food, good coffee and good books. These are a few of my favorite things.
Letting this old habit go is sort of like the landing of a plane. It comes in for a landing and touches down. It bounces up and touches down again and again until it rolls to a stop. If the plane just landed, it would be totally jarring to everyone on board. When I think of this habit of reviewing the past as in the process of landing, it's manageable. I can relax knowing it will land in time.
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