Archives for posts with tag: hand me that map

I’m drinking coffee and giving thought to the day ahead. Days ahead. The weekend, too. Building a mental map of what is likely to come, and also gently letting that go; the map is not the world. Hell, it’s not even properly a map; it’s just a sense of direction. πŸ™‚

A local transit map gets me across town, but tells me nothing much about the places to which I travel.

Maps are funny things. They give me a sense of security about the direction I’m headed, and some hints and pointers about how to get where I’m going. I appreciate those things. I also recognize that there are some limitations. Maps have scale, and boundaries; anything too small disappears from view, anything outside the borders isn’t shown. Depending on the distance I want to travel, or the complexity of the journey, any one map may be unsuited to the purpose.

Other maps, other details; not all maps suit all purposes.

If I take the wrong map on the hiking trip, I could easily become very lost. πŸ™‚ Too little detail, and I don’t see the trails to follow. Too much detail, I don’t see important details of the terrain. Get in too close, and I can’t see “a bigger picture”. Pull away too far, and I lose a sense of context, and place. Perspective matters, on the trail, on the commute, and in life. The accuracy of the map matters, too.

I fell yesterday. I was walking briskly across a busy street, after work, heading to the train platform, and slipped on a rain-slick manhole cover. I fell hard, into the street, onto the train tracks. I hit the ground hard enough to knock the air out of my lungs, and I struggled to pick myself up easily. I was shaken, and stood confused, on the sidewalk for some moments. Passers-by expressed concern. I wasn’t entirely coherent, for some seconds. My jeans were soaked on the side of my body that took the impact. I walk across that street almost every day. You’d think I’d have mastered it by now. My mental map did not have that manhole cover noted anywhere, and the risk escaped my notice as I hurried along.

I got home with minimal frustration, still aching all over from falling. I made a trip to the store, because I’d said I would, but my head was still reeling a bit from the fall, and I made the trip short and very efficient. I really just wanted to go home. I felt vulnerable, raw, and very very mortal. I felt betrayed by my awareness, and overly sensitive to the excessive real-world detail strewn about all around me. Overwhelmed by the sudden awareness that I just don’t notice everything, I was feeling a bit anxious, and still kind of dizzy from the fall.

I got home, and just as I was breathing a sigh of relief, hands full of shopping bags, and also juggling my keys, my cane, and my backpack… the door would not unlock. Fuck. I snarled at the door and tried again. Nope. Not unlocking. I snapped. I felt my consciousness winding up to prepare me to lash out against that wretched, cursed, unresponsive door, and just as the stream of invective began to leave my lips – my Traveling Partner opened the door with a sheepish, loving smile, and an apology; he’d locked the door knob (I lock the deadbolt). I started to cry, he immediately offered me comfort. We moved on from the moment very quickly. He made sure I was really okay, and helped me look after my health properly. No obvious lasting damage, honestly. I just fell. I got back up. I got home safely. We enjoyed a lovely evening. Well and good. πŸ™‚

The mental map matters every bit as much as any physical map ever has. Expectations, unchecked, often result in disappointment, confusion, resentment, and frustration. Assumptions that are not verified against actual facts, can lead to some terrible decision-making, miscommunication, and poor quality relationships. Even simple lack of awareness can wreck a map and render it entirely useless due to lack of relevant details. I’m just saying – it’s not enough to take just any map, it also needs to be a map of the correct place, and drawn to the correct scale, using an accurate perspective.

If you’re struggling to get where you are going in life… maybe it’s time to redraw the map? πŸ˜€

 

I woke comfortably this morning, the alarm did not annoy or startle me. My sleep was not dreamless, but my dreams were surreal and seemed almost tender, as if chosen with great care to nurture me in the night. The morning feels gentle and quiet. I feel content. The room has a chill to it, and my coffee cup feels warm in my hand in a very pleasant way. This is a lovely morning.

I let my thoughts drift among the delightful living metaphors of my experience: long walks, cups of coffee, home cooking, the pot of gold at the end of… wait…what? I find myself smiling, and thinking of ‘the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow’, which for me has tended to be envisioned as both broken, and empty, as long as I can remember. A hidden metaphor for my injury, perhaps, that I didn’t realize I was carrying with me all this time. I used to have a bleak recurring dream of chasing rainbows looking for the pot of gold, and finding it shattered, empty, with just a note left in among the shards…a note I never could pick up to read, however hard I tried. Dreams of disappointment, frustration, and futility were once very common in my dreamscape. They are more rare now. What jolted me back to more awareness of my thoughts, this morning, is that the pot isn’t broken! Here I am just drifting among the thoughts, old and new, and something is changed; it’s a startling sensation. This morning, the pot at the end of the rainbow is neither broken, nor empty; it is duct-taped together with great care, and although I cannot see the contents, I am aware the pot is filled. Someone has written on the duct tape – in my own hand writing, in ball point pen – ‘contentment’. This makes sense; I used to think that ‘happily ever after’ was what I would find in the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Β When did I rewrite this fanciful metaphor? How is it that I didn’t notice sooner? Why this morning? Do these questions matter at all? (Probably not – they don’t read like the significant questions do, in some hard to identify way.)

What a lovely small thing to notice changed in a positive way, within myself. How easily it could have gone unnoticed! It’s a gentle reminder that our programming exists in the background of our consciousness, weighing in on our experience, and our understanding of our experience moment-to-moment, regardless of our awareness. That programming can support all the heartfelt compassion and delight with which we can face our world, or it can resonate with our doubts, fears, and insecurity, lead us to madness or despair, or influence our thinking in ways we would not choose were we more aware.Β Gnothi seauton. Β It isn’t a caution or a criticism; just a reminder how important it is to be who we are, aware, awake, and without judgment.

Another door opens.

Another door opens.

This morning I am adding a book to my reading list – and I haven’t even finished it yet. This wee volume seems every bit as colossal on my journey as the weightiest tome ever could be, and already, just pages into it, I feel… Yes. That’s really it. I feel. This books moves me, and stirs my thinking, raises my awareness – like unfolding the next relevant section of a map. I won’t ruin the ending… I don’t know the ending. πŸ™‚ “How to Love” by Thich Nhat Hanh goes on the reading list today.

Today is a good day for rainbows, for colorful pots in tiny gardens, for small books with big ideas, and for love. Today is a good day to know myself, and to delight in time I spend with me. Today is a good day to learn to love.