Archives for posts with tag: be the change

I’m still contemplating an epiphany of sorts, a developing understanding, a hint of something broader than I know just on the horizon of my awareness of self. I’d like to write. I feel eager. I feel motivated. I feel. That’s really it; I feel this from my core to my consciousness. I am also feeling just a bit unworthy, or unready or ill-equipped to handle the topic just yet.

The topic dominates my thoughts. Something about the nature of identity, the nature of language and words, the effect of definition, the precious and necessary confound of ambiguity and uncertainty, or the outcome of unanswered questions being a larger part of my experience than the answers to questions ever have been… or… something like that.  The substance and the weight of it, still a bit incomplete and unformed in my thinking, is so massive that I feel ‘crowded’ cognitively, and continuously compelled to write, only to find myself still not yet ready to ‘lay it out’ and take a look at it as words on a page. It’s a strange sensation.  It is that ‘can’t quite put my finger on it’ sensation of being unable to recall the name of a favorite movie in the midst of an exciting dialogue with a dear friend, or being unable to ‘name that tune’ even though it is a favorite song.  A creative gadfly.

The pen: a might artifact, a weapon, a tool, a magic wand, a toy, a treasure.

The pen: a might artifact, a weapon, a tool, a magic wand, a toy, a treasure.

So, although words elude me for now, I celebrate them, and language. So much of who I am, of what we are as beings, of our potential to experience the world and our ability to share it, is in our hands in the form of a pen.

Yesterday’s loveliness lingers in my memory as a secure stronghold against insecurity and fearfulness. I love, and I am loved in return. Today I will embrace serenity and calm, and that still place of observation without judgement that is within me.

Today I will change the world.

Or, for that matter, what it isn’t.  These are subjects for another day – soon.

Today I am focusing on openness and intimacy, fearlessly approaching and being approachable. Eye contact. Observation. Being in the moment, because the moment is what I have. Making room to feel, to be involved in my own experience. Breathing, and finding that still calm place.  Taking practices of mindful self-acceptance, compassion, and gratitude, and applying them to my relationships with others.

Today I find balance, because I choose balance, and compassion because I choose compassion. Today I will change the world.

Every moment holds all the potential that exists to choose well.

Every moment holds all the potential that exists to choose well.

I woke this morning after a night short on hours, long on dreams, and restless, very restless.  I woke a number of times during the night, returning to sleep with little effort.  My dreamscape was lively, surreal, and oddly persuasive on a number of random details that now seem to rate further thought by daylight.  I woke very groggy, to the strident beeping of my infernal alarm clock – it is rare to be asleep when it goes off, and it isn’t my preferred way to wake up.   I dragged my sluggish body down the hall and dumped myself in a cooler than usual shower hoping to find a legitimate state of waking consciousness I could count on for the start of the work week, and afterward made what can only be called the worst mocha ever made, which I steadfastly consumed without (until now) complaint.

I settled down to meditate, and didn’t get far with that; one of my loves joined me for morning coffee and conversation. We don’t overlap much with our schedules, he and I, and any time we have together is precious.  Email can wait, chores can wait, writing can wait; I cherish those brief quiet times together, so this morning even meditation took a back seat to love.  I’m okay with that. The time we had to share was so very brief.  Again and again my thoughts return to the morning, and a feeling of mild regret that I wasn’t more awake.  My thoughts ricochet around in my broken brain and I think of “Time Enough for Love” by Robert A. Heinlein. No reason beyond the title, I suspect, but it is an amazing tale of adventure, of love, of living a life wide open to endless possibilities, and above all – of being human.  If Heinlein hadn’t written anything more than the title, he’d have said enough.  I wish I’d known the value of love much sooner in my life.

Foggy morning

Foggy morning

The work day got under way in a most ordinary fashion.  Eventually it will end and I will head home.  If the weather is pleasant, I may repeat my 5k walk of last Sunday, to experience it in nice weather on dry pavement, and to confirm my suspicion that I’m actually sufficiently fit at this point that I could do it easily every week and gain a little more ground toward my fitness goals.  I’m so tired, though… will taking care of me mean getting to bed earlier, tonight, or will I choose, again, in favor of time with my dear ones? (One short night isn’t a big deal.  If I make a habit of it, the cognitive and emotional consequences become obvious pretty quickly!)

I’m still feeling a bit foggy.  Sleep would be good… but it is hours away,  In the meantime, work, and later chores, and assorted tasks on a lengthy ‘to do’ list, compete with any hope of an early bed time. lol. Welcome to adulthood.

It is a lovely sunny day, now.  I’m still thinking about sleep, and love, and romance, and how to bring new tools and skills forward into my every day experience.

…Oops…I’ve run out of words. lol. I’ll be back with more soon… In the meantime, I plan to go forth and live well and with compassion.  How about you?

This quiet morning I am a woman of few words.  My busy mind is momentarily quieted with meditation, and I’ve got a good latte in front of me, and imminent dawn to contemplate as day breaks.

A new book, Buddhist Boot Camp, arrived in the mail yesterday.  So far, I’m delighted with it.  It is already on my fairly short list of books that have made a difference to me. Books I love are numerous, but the books that have mattered, that have helped me on my path, that have been tools more than entertainment are quite few in number.  I’ve mentioned several of them, and they amount to my ‘recommended reading list’ for getting from “I hate where I am” to “I am going somewhere new and I enjoy who I am becoming along the way”.  Are you a little curious?

Here they are, as of today, in the order I read them:

  • Your Greatest Power by Jack Martin Kohe*
  • The 4 Agreements by Don Miguel Ruiz
  • Success by Heidi Grant Halvorson
  • The Five Elements of Effective Thinking by Edward B Burger, and Michael Starbird
  • The Happiness Trap by Russ Harris
  • Mindfulness for Beginners by Jon Kabat-Zinn
  • Get Some Headspace by Andy Puddicombe**
  • Buddhist Boot Camp by Timber Hawkeye

Are there other books I would recommend? Sure, if someone asked; it would depend on what they said they are looking for, or where they are headed, or perhaps what sort of day it was at the time. I love books. I have read many. I enjoy the feel of a bound book in my hands, and the gift of knowledge, wisdom, or story telling from some other mind, in some other place and time, so carefully preserved for me. 😀 These are just books that from where I stand now, appear to have been key to getting to this point, and since I like this point, they become meaningful, and important [to me].

*A note about Your Greatest Power: The first time I read this book I was fortunate enough to read it in a worn and dusty 1st edition (1953?).  It was 1981, I was young and it struck me that could be the most important thing I’d ever read. (I also recognized that I ‘wasn’t there yet’.)  Happenstance put that 1st edition, a different copy, in my hands in a dark moment that became a decision-making point many years later. Like many of the books in my list, there is an implied verb in using the contents of a book as a tool or catalyst for change. Every book in my list could entirely change someone’s life – anyone’s life – but it isn’t the book that makes the change. It is the choices. 😉

**To be fair, Andy Puddicombe, as a source of inspiration, actually belongs just after The Five Elements of Effective Thinking; it was his TED Talk that moved me in the direction of exploring mindfulness with intent and will, and that was just this very year. 🙂

I am awake before dawn, on a morning I had hoped to ‘sleep in’.  The rain is pounding insistently on the skylight, lest I overlook that it is raining. I enjoy rain, and the sound of it is slowly soothing my raw nerves. I woke face to face with my PTSD, in the form of profound anxiety, fear, a pounding heart, and a distinct awareness that ‘something’s wrong’.

It was quickly clear what woke me, when a firm click of a door elsewhere communicated what it could; frustration, hurt, anger, a limit reached, a moment passed… doors do not communicate with specificity, and it isn’t really possible to ask a door a clarifying question.  I dislike communication via door, whether it is a slammed door, or a firmly shut door, or simply a closed door that blocks communication in a non-verbal-message-sending way.  Doors lack precision for communication. So do drawers, windows, dishwashers, refrigerators, and all manner of household tasks and processes. These are not the tools of clear explicit compassionate communication, any more than yelling is.  We each have so much potential to communicate more clearly than via door – but I too have slammed a door, more than once.  😦

I am working on taking the approach that there is something to be learned here, or progress to be made – for me.  Maybe a chance to learn not to let doors talk to me in the first place? A door clicks closed; I hear the hurt feelings and rejection. Another click, firm and solid and no-nonsense; I may hear resolve and anger. Another click, a different room, a different hand perhaps; I could hear the sorrow, regret, and stress. The doors click closed. They open.  Occasional voices, and I put some space between my consciousness and the words; privacy matters, and it is a matter of respect and consideration.  We all have rough moments, bad times, things to work through. How do I take care of me when private matters between others impinge on my consciousness and drive my symptoms? Well, this morning, I meditated, then got up – sleep clearly wasn’t going to be possible at this level of wariness and anxiety – a latte just the way I like it [vanilla syrup, 4 shots of espresso, whole milk], and some quiet moments contemplating the falling rain.

This morning is an improvement over similar past mornings; I am calm.  I have a pretty serious aversion to angry confrontations, just in general.  Right now I am pleased to find that I am able to have my own experience, without becoming mired in unpleasantness borrowed from someone else’s experience.  A clear (and highly valued) improvement, for me, although I have to admit I don’t necessarily ‘understand’ this change on a level that would allow me to break it down by steps to see what exactly I am doing for this result.

I am able to have my own experience… this morning that has includes some moments of anger at being awakened on one of the rare days I could sleep in.  My experience includes feeling a bit uncomfortable about being able to overhear moments of private conversation, and regret that valued privacy isn’t ‘a given’ (pretty easy to hear through these walls).  My experience also includes feeling cheated out of a lovely morning with my loves, and some irritation about that, and recognition that the morning is far from over. Even sympathy, compassion, and sadness make an appearance this morning.  My feelings don’t seem unreasonable – and this morning they have not dominated my experience, or overwhelmed me. I felt them. I heard myself, and understand what my feelings say about my needs, and my now. Making room in my heart for my own feelings didn’t seem much of a challenge this morning… another improvement.

A rainy autumn sky.

A rainy autumn sky.

It’s later now.  It’s been about 2 hours since I woke to the sound of a door clicking closed. I’ve almost finished my latte. Daybreak has come, and the gray pre-dawn sky has shifted just a bit toward blue, still sullen, gray, and stormy. The trees beyond the window do a slow hula in the wind.  The house is snug and warm, and quiet.  I didn’t get to sleep in, but these quiet hours are precious to me,  and this morning they will not be interrupted by the realization that it is already time to go to work. That may be worth the unpleasant wake-up call.  The trees outside are whipped back and forth for a moment, as if nodding in agreement.  A difficult start to the morning, but it is no predictor of the day to come, and my ‘now’ is actually quite pleasant and serene.

There are only so many days, hours, minutes, ahead of us… and so much to yearn for, to learn, to do… today is Saturday, so for me it will be about mostly practical matters at home: laundry, gardening, a water change for the aquarium, getting ready for a new week and having a quick tidy ’round, in general.  These quite hours before the more organized hustle of task completion, and checking things off a ‘to do’ list, are precious, indeed. I enjoy taking some time for me.  🙂