Archives for category: Parables

It’s been 335 days since I began this blog, this journey, this cycle of change and growth. 335 days.  A bit less than 47 weeks. 8040 hours, give or take. More than 482,000 minutes. Time measured, time spent, some of it wasted, all of it precious, and limited; I am living a more deliberate, mindful life than I had been living. I continue to practice new skills, continue to refine new practices that I value, and that seem to enhance my every day experience. There are a lot of small changes in the way I experience my life, the qualities I bring to my relationships, the value I place on the experiences of others, their challenges, the lessons they offer me when our paths cross along the way.

Now there is time to consider it all as the end of the year approaches.

It has long been my practice to take time on New Year’s day to consider the year past, and the year unfolding ahead of me. An hour or two, at least, to really put some attention on whether I achieved my goals, where I’m headed, what I can improve, what my challenges are. Funny, I’ve been doing that since I was about 14… it wasn’t as helpful a practice as it could have been, because for so many years I let my thinking self control the agenda, the tone, and the outcome, and left no room for my observing self to bring stillness, calm, and insight. Light without illumination, in a manner of speaking. This year I have come so far, and much of the journey on a very different path than any before. I’m eager to sit down with myself this New Year’s Day, look 2014 in the eye and say “Let’s do this thing!”

I slept badly last night. I didn’t, however, experience the stress of ‘how will I get enough rest to…’, which often complicates the bad sleep picture by throwing additional anxiety and something rather like ‘performance pressure’ into the mix. It was a pleasant relief to realize that just getting up and doing something other than ‘trying to sleep’ would be inconsequential to the day that followed.  I feel groggy and fatigued, predictably enough, but the morning is pleasant and comfortable in spite of that.  I’m an analyst by trade, which had tended to foster a rather simplistic notion that somehow ‘data fixes everything’ – if only there is enough of it. It hasn’t proven to be the case in practice. I spent years gathering sleep related data on my own experience: hours of sleep, hours disturbed, the nature of sleep disturbances, when they occurred by type, where my hormones were, my diet, exercise, medication, even details about the weather or environmental conditions, all sorts of stuff. I carefully analyzed the data for trends, looked for patterns, even found some; none of it mattered, because none of it had the power to affect the outcome in my experience. I struggled with missing pieces, undeveloped skills, correlations I wasn’t aware of, didn’t recognize, or didn’t understand were relevant. In my experience of my own life, mindfulness beats analysis for enacting change and improving my experience, easily. It’s not even close.  2013 has been the year that mindfulness became something, for me, and I, in turn, am becoming someone I enjoy being – sleepless nights and all. 😀

This morning seems a nice one to take a moment for gratitude, and a smile. The path isn’t always easy, and sometimes I still feel like I’m walking in the dark, banging knees, shins, and heart on unseen obstacles, but I no longer fight the needful journey.

Where this really started, back in 2010, and a moment of gratitude for the love of the man who shared it with me, then, and remains with me, still.

Where this really started, back in 2010, and a moment of gratitude for the love of the man who shared it with me, then, and remains with me, still.

Like any other, this day begins with a sunrise. Most are quite lovely, when I take time to notice them. Has anyone ever paused to notice the sunrise and said ‘damn, that’s just not attractive at all!’? I somehow doubt it very much. Sunrises, as things go, are pretty reliably lovely. I find myself wondering if that is in any part due to the simple relief and gratitude of waking up for one more day of living?

One of many sunrises.

One of many sunrises.

I slept poorly, and I am unsurprised; a significant change in my routine often disrupts both my sleep and my emotional balance, whether the change itself is a positive or negative thing. I am learning to refrain from defining a given change, or experience, as ‘good’ or ‘bad’. Someone else has an excellent parable about that.  I like parables in general, and along with metaphors, and allegories, find them both illuminating and efficient at communicating subtleties in ideas.  There are some good ones here.  I sometimes consider their value as ‘children’s stories’ over the more favored (and severely idealistic) ‘fairy tales’ with reliable happy endings, where everyone gets to be a princess. Would I be different than I am if my childhood had been filled with wise parables that taught perspective, compassion, and consideration, rather than filled with fairy tales where the princess always wins – even if she didn’t really do much to earn it?

I’m not being fair to fairy tales, though, or to the volumes of reading I did as a child. I read all the fairy books…and mythology, and legendary tales of mystery and fantastical wonder, anything I could find in a language I could read, actually.  I still somehow missed some very important messaging somewhere along the way, or failed to carry it forward in life with me.  Like so many people I ended up thinking seeking ‘my fortune’ and seeking ‘happily ever after’ were goals worthy of my time and attention, without understanding that these things are of so much less value than the foundation stones required to support them: contentment, compassion, consideration, gratitude, self-acceptance, and finding that inner stillness with which to contemplate and enjoy the wonders of life.

I’ve somehow gone off on a tangent. I’m okay with that, this morning. It is a lovely morning, and soon enough I will be in mindful service to home and hearth, finding new balance in a new routine.

This morning looks like a good day to avoid assumptions, to be compassionate and patient with others – and myself, to cherish the warmth of life, love, and family. Today is a good day not to take other people’s stress as my own. Today I will practice new tools, and take care of me. Today I will change the world. 😀

Emotional strength and resilience don’t seem to be limitless in my own experience. I got to thinking about it as I walked home last night quite exhausted following a rather ordinary day.  I thought, too, of watering my garden with rain water next year, collected in rain barrels, very green friendly… the thinking got all jumbled up, and of course, a parable resulted from the cognitive disarray.

A rain barrel [image from lifehacker]

Consider the rain barrel.  Rain falls plentifully in some places, less so in others. Collecting rain water allows it to be used later, and applied where most needed – I would water my greenhouse with rain water.  If I set up my rain barrel well, and it collects water efficiently, and I have plentiful reserves, my garden remains lush and well-watered, nurtured and capable of supporting life.  The rain barrel must be open to receiving the water, and must also be able to contain it – to build a reserve.  If I set up the barrel to collect water, but I leave it open, too, at the bottom, so that the water is continuously used as soon as it is received, no water is stored, no reserves are built, and when a dry time comes and no rain falls, my garden is dry and at risk of dying, and unable to support lush and fertile life. Crops would be bitter and less flavorful.

Don’t our emotional reserves, the strength of our heart, and our ability to ‘bounce back’ work similarly? If I am constantly at war within myself, or having to buoy loved ones in times of personal turmoil, with no support for myself, my own heart, my own needs, without taking time to ‘refill my rain barrel’, I become bitter, exhausted, and unable to support life. The very real personal rewards to growth and change are powerful, and capable of nurturing my heart on a profound level – unless I am unable to rise beyond constantly ‘spending my savings’, using the rainwater as it comes, instead of building stored reserves for dryer times.

Today I will love well.  Today I give myself as much compassion as I show others. Today I will also take care of me.

 

Words or pictures? I have both. I have observations and thoughts. I have anecdotes and memories. I have moments of incredible heart, of epiphany, of transcendent serenity and wholeness, of unexpected tears. My day at the beach was an important day of self-care, characterized by free will, and pure experience of undefined identity; seeing those words in text I find myself doubting they can be ‘understood’. Sort of a ‘you had to be there’ thing, perhaps – but maybe you have been there?

Dawn came before I departed. I left my devices behind, except my smart-phone, which I shut down and put away.  I reached my downtown transfer point and realized that stopping for a coffee was suddenly a bit risky – how would I know the time??  I dispelled the moment of panic with laughter, remembering how many watches I used to own, and how incredibly tied to time I once was, long ago.  My recollection was that the ‘local drugstore’ would have cheap watches… up and down the aisles, no luck… the man at the counter, when asked, pointed a surly finger toward a lonely small carousel of reasonably priced time pieces.  I grabbed a simple one that did not offend my eye and went on my way, finding myself actually quite delighted with its simplicity, and my freedom.

The bus trip was quite pleasant, and at this time of year predictably uncrowded.  I spent the time in meditation, and found myself enveloped in the warmth of my own real regard and compassion for my experience, soothed and loved and feeling very safe.  I arrived at my destination and felt as if I stepped off the bus into a new world; I was at the beach, and on my own.

Like a whisper, a horizon more implied than visible.

Like a whisper, a horizon more implied than visible.

I found the misty, foggy morning quite appropriate to my mood and my mission; to take on the day fully mindfully, to spend it in meditation and consideration of ‘where I am and where I am going’, and to use the solo time to take care of me.  The gray sky blotted out the prominent local features on the coastline: the large rocks, the lighthouse, hotels and houses along the shore in the distance. There were a small handful of people along the beach, and plentiful footprints in the sand to remind me that no one of us is every truly alone.

...and I walked...

…and I walked…

As if every morning’s commute and every evening’s return home were in preparation for this, I walked along the beach in silent contemplation and soft awe. I walked the beach up and down from where Ecola Creek pours into the sea, to a place called Silver Point, a couple of times over the course of the day.  The map gives the impression the distance between those points is about 3 miles, when I look at it now, but at the time I had no sense of distance.

As seen on a map, 'my beach' on this day.

As seen on a map, ‘my beach’ on this day.

As the day unfolded, the mist began to lift (in the late afternoon it would even be sunny and clear).  The pictures reconnect me to my thoughts in-the-moment.  I have long counted on pictures to do that for me.

As the mist lifts...

As the mist lifts…

...and I continue to walk...

…and I continue to walk…

...the looming dark features of Haystack Rock are revealed.

…the looming dark features of Haystack Rock are revealed.

The day was more than the sum of my pictures, though, and as I walked, I observed the waves crashing in, on the shore, and the understandings evolving within as well.  I was open to my own heart, my own understanding, and feeling myself awaken as I walked on.

I took a seat on a big driftwood log for a time, to meditate, and breath deep of the sea breezes.

I took a seat on a big driftwood log for a time, to meditate, and breath deep of the sea breezes.

This guy joined me for a while, just standing there, next to me, gazing out to the sea with me.

This guy joined me for a while, just standing there, next to me, gazing out to the sea with me.

Watching the waves crash in, one by one. Hearing the sounds and feeling the grandeur of it.

Watching the waves crash in, one by one. Hearing the sounds and feeling the grandeur of it.

...Watching...observing my own thoughts as waves, themselves...

…Watching…observing my own thoughts as waves, themselves…

...one after another...peace and contentment settling in.

…one after another…peace and contentment settling in.

The waves gave the appearance of surging forth directly from the sky, or the horizon.  Rested, I resumed my walking, and began to consider things; applying new understanding to old hurts, testing time-worn assumptions that have not served me well, nurturing my will and my intention – and my good heart.

The tide recedes, as tides do; forces of nature are difficult to deny.

The tide recedes, as tides do; forces of nature are difficult to deny.

I realize I am hungry. A bite of lunch becomes more than an intention, it becomes a plan. I walk up from the beach to the street above via a beautiful staircase, chuckling at the tsunami route warning sign. Realistically, if I had to run up those stairs to be safe from a tsunami, I would probably drop dead from the effort before reaching the goal; I am not yet quite that fit, and running up a long staircase doesn’t sound likely to ‘save my life’. lol

Sometimes getting from 'here' to 'there' requires a climb.

Sometimes getting from ‘here’ to ‘there’ requires a climb.

A bite of lunch and a cup of tea later, and I headed back to the beach.  The sun had broken through the morning fog, and the landscape had changed.

Changed by the afternoon sun.

Changed by the afternoon sun.

I found a staircase down to the beach; an unlikely surprise, itself, whimsically mysterious.

Strangely mysterious...

Strangely mysterious…

...I descend...

…I descend…

...the descent becomes a gentle meditation of its own...

…the descent becomes a gentle meditation of its own…

...a metaphor about journeys and transitions... and becoming.

…a metaphor about journeys and transitions… and becoming.

I look back from the beach, and as with so many mysteries, it seems to have disappeared.

I look back from the beach, and as with so many mysteries, it seems to have disappeared.

I repeated the journey of the morning, up and down the beach, returning to the joy and moments of unexpected emotional depth as I walked.

The day continued, and evolved. I met people, and spoke only honest heartfelt words. I shared myself freely. I met love, in person; she was grieving her loss with grace. I met terror and rage wearing some face other than my own, but contained within a heart that knows some of the pain I know, myself, and in our meeting there was calm and healing. I watched children play in tide pools, utterly without fear.  I spoke with artisans and artists who were also war veterans, and I met aged beatniks, who had lived, loved, and played with great heroes of intellect of another time. I heard words spoken that were worth hearing. I saw great beauty, both natural and crafted, and I felt healing happening within myself – because I allowed it, and accepted it.  It was a tremendous day. There are so many more pictures… so many more words. The thing is, though…

I can share a picture of an object of great beauty...

I can share a picture of an object of great beauty…

...or a photograph of a moment of inspiration...

…or a photograph of a moment of inspiration…

...I can share my experience in great detail...

…I can share my experience in great detail…

...or consider it in the context of much bigger things...

…or consider it in the context of much bigger things…

...but I am having my own experience, and walking my own path.

…but I am having my own experience, and walking my own path.

I can only share with you as much as you are open to, and not a word of it, not a single image, has more value than you take from it, yourself, by choice.  It isn’t about ‘being right’ or convincing, or persuading.

There’s still so much to feel, to experience, to choose or not choose. But…

A walk on the beach doesn't last 'forever', however timeless it feels.

A walk on the beach doesn’t last ‘forever’, however timeless it feels.

Evening did eventually call to me.

I take a last look at the beach.

I take a last look at the beach.

The wait for the bus heading home was interesting on its own. I shared the time and space with a woman, probably about my age, and it was a strange happenstance.  A sort of fun house mirror of selves staring back at each other across a strange gulf in values, and mismatched appearances. Me, the middle-class looking middle-aged woman in a beige trench coat over a practical black hoodie, emblazoned with the name of my corporate overlord, and she, more timeless, yet strangely stern of visage, wearing the uniform of hippies and flower-children, with just the most vague hint of affluence peeking round the edges and seams; we surprised each other. Our conversation lead here and there and ended with an understanding that we were not at all who we appeared to be. Me, the seeker, the student, a work in progress, a kitten in a strange house… She, convinced, certain, unyielding, and subtly disapproving.  That’s okay with me; I already knew how deceiving appearances can be.

The night bus ride was uneventful and quiet. I was tired, and eager to be home. I wanted more than anything at that moment to be welcomed home into the warmth and light of home and heart by my loves, imagining them to be eager to hang on my every excited word. After a day alone I yearned for intimacy and connection, feeling very much like I would somehow be so much better at it for having had the day at the beach…

I arrived home, tired. The house was quiet. One partner awake to greet me, another lost in sleep and dreams.  A pleasant enough homecoming, although truly I was too tired by that time for any real enthusiasm for it, and more emotional than I realized. My TBI occasionally fucks me over on those sorts of moments, happening as they often do at the end of an arduous or tiring experience, or simply a very long day. My fatigue results in more volatility, less understanding, more confusion, less resilience.  It was time to rest.  I’m grateful that I have partners who understand.  First one, then the other (who had wakened to greet me), slipped off to bed and I was again… alone.  I gave in to exhaustion, hormones, and emotion, and quietly wept for a while, not really understanding why, and not finding any real need to investigate or inquire. They were harmless tears, heartfelt tears, gentle tears, that told only of fatigue and tender humanity, and no great despair or pain. I felt clean and whole, and simply capable of feeling powerful emotions, beyond what I could contain, and so, they spilled out from my eyes, slipping down my cheeks, past the smile that sill lingered from the power of the day.

That’s really it… my day at the beach.  I’m still turning it over in my thoughts, finding my way to greater understanding, cherishing the moments.  I doubt my words or pictures have any hope of doing the experience real justice. I’m okay with that. You are having your own experience, too, and you will find meaning where you do, and take it as having value if you will, and if it serves you. I’m delighted with this morning, with the writing, with looking again and again at all the pictures; choosing just the right ones to share.

Today is quiet. The house is sleeping. I woke, unexpectedly, ahead of my alarm clock – which wasn’t turned on at all. lol.  The dawn unfolded unnoticed as I wrote, content within my own thoughts.  My latte grew cold. It is the weekend, and for me, the end of that – tomorrow is a work day, and today is committed in advance to making ready for another week.  Whatever the day holds, I hope to find contentment, and to treat myself and others well, with consideration, kindness, and compassion. They are also having their own experience.

Today I hope to choose wisely, to love well, and to build rather than to destroy.  😀

The day is nearly at an end. It is quiet. I feel calm. The night falls gently. There is more I could do, if I chose, and nothing so pressing that it is a duty to myself or an obligation to another. So, I take some quiet time for me.

Autumn at twilight.

Autumn at twilight.

Tomorrow is mine, too, and a rare treat.  With my therapist on vacation this week, I’ve got the day without a solid agenda of errands or tasks. I decided to take advantage of the general nature of Thursday being planned around ‘taking care of me’.  I usually spend the time after my appointment working through ‘homework’, finding balance, study & reflection, observation and awareness – and crying, sometimes there is a lot of crying – so rather than cancel my take care of me time… I am taking the time and taking care of me. 🙂  I’ll be up at the usual early hour and headed to the coast for a day of analog life: walking on the beach, writing, meditating, sketching, talking live and unscripted to actual human beings in their natural environment, and much much more! (Well… not much more at all. A bite of lunch, probably… lol)

Technology will wait. It wasn’t so long ago that once a person walked away from their home, they were no longer ‘connected’. There was life before the digital age. I’m going to live some of that, tomorrow. Eyes open and smiling.

Evening is past. Night has fallen. I am thinking of love, and enjoying this nice gentle place I find myself; a little wistful about how challenging it is lately to share this… ‘place’.

Tomorrow is a new experience. Will I have a chance to inspire someone? Will I be inspired? Will life unfold a wonderful lesson for me? I will tell you about it later, maybe… on a Friday. 😀