Realized yesterday, driving home, that still small space was gone.
When I meditate, I fill a reservoir of calm in my heart. A spaciousness that cushions the hard spots in life.
I realized that my chest only hurt. Aha no wonder I feel so bad. See how I must meditate.
It's like filling a bicycle tire. You need to keep it full or the road will sure hurt and you won't get very far and it will wear you the fuck out.
You need to fill you reserve. That plugging into calm, giving yourself that permission, letting you off the hook for that imagined original sin tucked away somewhere. You can drop the bullshit, and the chasing thoughts and circles and just be. Just be.
So this morning I meditated. I breathed slowly into the reservoir. And see I have not lost it. It has only dried up a bit. But the place I have cultivated is still waiting for me where I left it.
I just have to remember.
That I left it.
To remember.
(before the next bullshit begins)
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Stated otherwise, the Nepalese man at work (one of the 2 men who lead us in Pranyama breathing which, turns out, that besides being silly is also kind of rad. in a snot-filled sort of way. bring a kleenex.) says that what his old-ass living-in-a-village-kicking-it-old-school Uncle says is that meditation does not keep you from getting upset. It allows you to respond best when it happens.
That's what I'm saying man. That's what I'm saying. It's kind of awesome.
P.S. I realize, btw, that my upbringing was 1) crazy and 2) kind of sort of explains a lot about me. Not that I don't want to take credit for every iota of my goddamn kookiness. But this was the church, the only church they ever bothered to go to. But that my father briefly became a hippie minister in. Rock ya'll. Rock. Anyhow yeah, this was the church I grew up in.
Sound familiar? Shit don't fall far from the tree. But also, I'm starting to think the more I run away, the more I come back home where I started.
I'm not going to do it. I'm not going to quote T.S. Eliot because I'm certain, just certain that my quoting-that-T.S.Eliot-line allowance is used up. I put it in my 2nd year paper for Chrissakes. Although the only person I'm confident ever actually read it was my therapist.
Anywho, I'm going to quote it anyway. I'm just going to do it. But see I'm gonna give you all the good stuff.
We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
Through the unknown, remembered gate
When the last of earth left to discover
Is that which was the beginning;
At the source of the longest river
The voice of the hidden waterfall
And the children in the appletree
Not known, because not looked for
But heard, halfheard, in the stillness
Between two waves of the sea.
Quick now, here, now, always-
A condition of complete simplicity
(Costing not less than everything)
And all shall be well and
All manner of thing shall be well
When the tongues of flame are infolded
Into the crowned knot of fire
And the fire and the rose are one.
Have a goodnight. I can even forgive Eliot for being a prick with those poems he wrote. Tonight feel forgiven too. Let yourself be at peace, even if for a moment. That's what I say anyway
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Saturday, December 27, 2008
life
Of course couldn't pull of cards this year for the holiday. Although as of incredibly recently (these past quiet weeks) I reinstalled my pegboard vertically in a little corner of the bedroom. Turned a shelf into a little drying rack. Got myself a nice efficient little work station again. It is simply lovely. Our space is so small, and I'm slowly building in little pieces of functionality into it.
I've finally begun to organize the "office"- the bit of space between the door and kitchen we use for a desk and printer. I installed wall shelves like a champ all by myself. Power drill, level, anchors, and didn't even f them up. I'm not done yet, but strange how these things can change a chaotic and awful space into something that helps your soul to lighten again.
And the craft space not only allows me to make cards more efficiently, faster, but also much nicer it seems. It raises the quality by allowing me to do them more smoothly and in larger batches. It's the iteration that brings refinement. So while neither Christmas cards or Hanukkah cards will go out this year, I'm contemplating a New Years card instead.
And of course, then I need to fast-track my work for dear AE, who has a wedding dress but no wedding invitations. I was off my game in all ways these past few weeks, but also I was psyched out that I couldn't match the vision in her head. But then I realized, in the way that I always try to realize, I simply need to step back and reframe my thinking and how I'm approaching a task.
One of the things I love most about the challenge is when you are able to see it not as an antagonist, but as a moment for brain-storming, refocusing, and re-centering. Then seeing the adaptation that turns a challenge not to a hurdle, but an interesting bend in a river. The very thing that makes life so precious.
I see this in making cards, in the projects at work, in social dynamics.
Frankl said by choosing to find a meaning in life we could face the insufferable. He did not mention that it was something valuable in itself, beyond the point of keeping you alive or sane or whatever. But it is. It seems it is more than a life-raft, but perhaps something greater.
My meaning is to apply all the things I have learned to making the world a little more positive instead of a little more negative. This applies to "problems" and to people. I can only do this when I am stable, but it also helps me return to stability. Understanding human pain, I understand it's healing more now too. Every person my path intersects with I try to make a positive contact instead of a negative default. I talk to strangers waiting for their prescriptions at CVS, feeling overwhelmed by their health problems. I talk to the man waiting in the line at Burger King about life and hardship, reflecting back at him the smile that shines in his face when he talks of the satisfaction of seeing his kids happy on Christmas, even when that means no gifts for him. I smile at the woman walking by, intercepting her scowl with something much more pleasant to take away with her.
And all I can tell you is I believe in human good, even if we have to coax it out. Let's be that.
The best example I saw/heard this year of Christmas, my dear secular Christmas, which is not about baby Jesus but simply human warmth and love between people, was on the history channel- a show called Christmas Truce. Wiki tells of multiple Christmas Truces. Where instead of fighting, young men on the front lines instead choose to acknowledge each other's humanity, and spread greetings and warmth. I find this compelling. This is the Christmas I embrace.
So with this and Citalopram I march onward to a new year with the vision of all the beauty I hope to cultivate within it. Namaste Y'alls.
I've finally begun to organize the "office"- the bit of space between the door and kitchen we use for a desk and printer. I installed wall shelves like a champ all by myself. Power drill, level, anchors, and didn't even f them up. I'm not done yet, but strange how these things can change a chaotic and awful space into something that helps your soul to lighten again.
And the craft space not only allows me to make cards more efficiently, faster, but also much nicer it seems. It raises the quality by allowing me to do them more smoothly and in larger batches. It's the iteration that brings refinement. So while neither Christmas cards or Hanukkah cards will go out this year, I'm contemplating a New Years card instead.
And of course, then I need to fast-track my work for dear AE, who has a wedding dress but no wedding invitations. I was off my game in all ways these past few weeks, but also I was psyched out that I couldn't match the vision in her head. But then I realized, in the way that I always try to realize, I simply need to step back and reframe my thinking and how I'm approaching a task.
One of the things I love most about the challenge is when you are able to see it not as an antagonist, but as a moment for brain-storming, refocusing, and re-centering. Then seeing the adaptation that turns a challenge not to a hurdle, but an interesting bend in a river. The very thing that makes life so precious.
I see this in making cards, in the projects at work, in social dynamics.
Frankl said by choosing to find a meaning in life we could face the insufferable. He did not mention that it was something valuable in itself, beyond the point of keeping you alive or sane or whatever. But it is. It seems it is more than a life-raft, but perhaps something greater.
My meaning is to apply all the things I have learned to making the world a little more positive instead of a little more negative. This applies to "problems" and to people. I can only do this when I am stable, but it also helps me return to stability. Understanding human pain, I understand it's healing more now too. Every person my path intersects with I try to make a positive contact instead of a negative default. I talk to strangers waiting for their prescriptions at CVS, feeling overwhelmed by their health problems. I talk to the man waiting in the line at Burger King about life and hardship, reflecting back at him the smile that shines in his face when he talks of the satisfaction of seeing his kids happy on Christmas, even when that means no gifts for him. I smile at the woman walking by, intercepting her scowl with something much more pleasant to take away with her.
And all I can tell you is I believe in human good, even if we have to coax it out. Let's be that.
The best example I saw/heard this year of Christmas, my dear secular Christmas, which is not about baby Jesus but simply human warmth and love between people, was on the history channel- a show called Christmas Truce. Wiki tells of multiple Christmas Truces. Where instead of fighting, young men on the front lines instead choose to acknowledge each other's humanity, and spread greetings and warmth. I find this compelling. This is the Christmas I embrace.
So with this and Citalopram I march onward to a new year with the vision of all the beauty I hope to cultivate within it. Namaste Y'alls.
Friday, December 26, 2008
This little light of mine
Twenty days since I last posted.
Been out deep surfing the big waves, so to speak. Which leaves me triumphant tho tattered. Because I can ride the waves. Because the people at work feel bad for me, when I do not. Because they cannot see the lights that I see. The vision tinged with electricity of hope, of seeing potential within the world in heavenly sparks that mere mortals cannot see.
And of course you realize losing your mind is quite interesting. I can see myself from a third person stance and find the patterns quite interesting. The building tension. The emotional charges. The rumble. The crumble. The instability I descend to before regaining my footing. Coming out of it. Finding the light again that keeps me moving upward and onward no matter.
I wonder sometimes shouldn't they envy me, instead of feeling sorry. Wouldn't they be jealous if the knew what they are missing. Or am I deceiving myself? Would life be full of unimaginable happiness were it not for my specific life trials? Perhaps I simply do not know what I'm missing.
But they do not seem happier. Indeed they are ruffled easier, many of them.
But I digress. Life is hard, yet blissful. Desperate yet lovely. Not full so much of life but full of love. A warm love that warms the home. That softens the air and makes colors soft. That makes the world okay even when it isn't. And that makes me fulfilled in a way indescribable. Though the winds may blow. Tho the winds may blow and blow.
Hope your holiday time was full of love. And hope your new year has even more.
Been out deep surfing the big waves, so to speak. Which leaves me triumphant tho tattered. Because I can ride the waves. Because the people at work feel bad for me, when I do not. Because they cannot see the lights that I see. The vision tinged with electricity of hope, of seeing potential within the world in heavenly sparks that mere mortals cannot see.
And of course you realize losing your mind is quite interesting. I can see myself from a third person stance and find the patterns quite interesting. The building tension. The emotional charges. The rumble. The crumble. The instability I descend to before regaining my footing. Coming out of it. Finding the light again that keeps me moving upward and onward no matter.
I wonder sometimes shouldn't they envy me, instead of feeling sorry. Wouldn't they be jealous if the knew what they are missing. Or am I deceiving myself? Would life be full of unimaginable happiness were it not for my specific life trials? Perhaps I simply do not know what I'm missing.
But they do not seem happier. Indeed they are ruffled easier, many of them.
But I digress. Life is hard, yet blissful. Desperate yet lovely. Not full so much of life but full of love. A warm love that warms the home. That softens the air and makes colors soft. That makes the world okay even when it isn't. And that makes me fulfilled in a way indescribable. Though the winds may blow. Tho the winds may blow and blow.
Hope your holiday time was full of love. And hope your new year has even more.
Saturday, December 6, 2008
I love field trips
It is snowing again. Finally where it sticks on the ground a little- not like the last brief shower. I drove home in them, lightly fluttering about, wetting the road that held the drivers frantic from the holiday anxiety back in the shopping center.
I got to go "in the field" today. To see the survey in action. Grand conclusion, it's really hard to get people who are home, available, and willing to take a survey. How else shall we estimate poverty, disability, or any other problem? How else do we gather national data about these things without you telling us. We have to ask you. But people are suspicious, as would I be.
Take home point. If a fed employee one day shows up at your door and tells you that you're part of a probability sample that needs to be fulfilled if we are to tell you anything about the people of America, please do help them out. We're out there. Seriously, where do you think this information comes from? You know how people say that there's a small group of people out there who have been examined by aliens in strange and probing ways to understand humanity. Well a small sample of America also gets surveys. And we too are probing and invasive, but we won't hurt you. And it's important for you, too. It's important for all of us. How else are we to know?
But do you think that could discourage me. Hah you would be mistaken. It was a lovely experience and gave us both ideas on how we could improve the process and it was completely interesting and worthwhile. A new thing I never thought I would/could do/perform/be. Which is nice. Which isn't half bad really.
I got to go "in the field" today. To see the survey in action. Grand conclusion, it's really hard to get people who are home, available, and willing to take a survey. How else shall we estimate poverty, disability, or any other problem? How else do we gather national data about these things without you telling us. We have to ask you. But people are suspicious, as would I be.
Take home point. If a fed employee one day shows up at your door and tells you that you're part of a probability sample that needs to be fulfilled if we are to tell you anything about the people of America, please do help them out. We're out there. Seriously, where do you think this information comes from? You know how people say that there's a small group of people out there who have been examined by aliens in strange and probing ways to understand humanity. Well a small sample of America also gets surveys. And we too are probing and invasive, but we won't hurt you. And it's important for you, too. It's important for all of us. How else are we to know?
But do you think that could discourage me. Hah you would be mistaken. It was a lovely experience and gave us both ideas on how we could improve the process and it was completely interesting and worthwhile. A new thing I never thought I would/could do/perform/be. Which is nice. Which isn't half bad really.
Friday, December 5, 2008
And sometimes it's not
What happens when there is never enough. The gap between what you need to live and what you actually have is threatening to swallow you.
What happens if you ran out of gas miles ago, and your running on fumes till you stall on the tracks.
What happens if the patience, the strength, the health, and the psychological endurance you need run out.
Do I internalize. Shall I return to ideations, giving up on my life.
Do I externalize. Do I lash out at the things around me?
It seems to be one or the other. Right now I'm on the latter, but I tend to alternate between the two.
The things I need are so vast, so far, and so out of our reach. What do you do if you are out of fuel? What if your hopes are just mirages? What if you look again and you were fooling yourself. What if things never get better? What if I haven't it in me to keep on trying? What if I'm drowning in it all. What if we're getting farther from our target and not closer. Do you realize how many people are suffering out there without resource, explanation, or resolution? Do you realize how likely it is that we will suffer the same fate. Do you understand how very tapped out I am?
What if the dam breaks. What if I can no longer function or fight, but only drown in the chaos around me. What if I crack. What if I can no longer compensate? What if I envision setting my house on fire, ramming people on the interstate or with my shopping cart in the store? What if I cannot handle this anymore? How the hell is this going to end?
What if I just gave it a good try, and that is all I have.
Monday: Xanax. It's not a solution, but it's comforting. What I really need is a big fucking miracle. A BIG FUCKING MIRACLE. Do you hear me god? You're losing me fast. A Big Fucking Miracle. Or I'm toast. Seriously. Long term goal- peace and relief. Short term goal- comfortably numb.
..........
Don't worry, I've already stabilized. Till the next time! Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da, life goes on. We just gotta keep life going on!
What happens if you ran out of gas miles ago, and your running on fumes till you stall on the tracks.
What happens if the patience, the strength, the health, and the psychological endurance you need run out.
Do I internalize. Shall I return to ideations, giving up on my life.
Do I externalize. Do I lash out at the things around me?
It seems to be one or the other. Right now I'm on the latter, but I tend to alternate between the two.
The things I need are so vast, so far, and so out of our reach. What do you do if you are out of fuel? What if your hopes are just mirages? What if you look again and you were fooling yourself. What if things never get better? What if I haven't it in me to keep on trying? What if I'm drowning in it all. What if we're getting farther from our target and not closer. Do you realize how many people are suffering out there without resource, explanation, or resolution? Do you realize how likely it is that we will suffer the same fate. Do you understand how very tapped out I am?
What if the dam breaks. What if I can no longer function or fight, but only drown in the chaos around me. What if I crack. What if I can no longer compensate? What if I envision setting my house on fire, ramming people on the interstate or with my shopping cart in the store? What if I cannot handle this anymore? How the hell is this going to end?
What if I just gave it a good try, and that is all I have.
Monday: Xanax. It's not a solution, but it's comforting. What I really need is a big fucking miracle. A BIG FUCKING MIRACLE. Do you hear me god? You're losing me fast. A Big Fucking Miracle. Or I'm toast. Seriously. Long term goal- peace and relief. Short term goal- comfortably numb.
..........
Don't worry, I've already stabilized. Till the next time! Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da, life goes on. We just gotta keep life going on!
American Life
Apparently my rear is not sufficiently padded to endure the 9.5 hours a day I sit on it. Okay counting driving, it's 11.5 hours. Although I do spend a good portion of my day moving about between the bathroom, the kitchenette, friends cubicles, a meeting or two, I sit quite a lot. Of the adaptive biology in the human body, perhaps we are only designed to sit maybe a few hours a day and not the long stretch that I do. But my ass hurts. Seriously.
I suspect this is also strongly associated with our "couch". Our "couch" is the cheapest futon Ikea sells, purchased 4 years ago. Now as we are avid sitters, the boards in this couch began to yield years ago, eventually culminating in my husband being able to sit on the couch and on the floor at the same time. It was like the couch was trying to eat us, and largely succeeding.
Not having the dough to replace this rapidly failing piece of furniture, I fixed it last weekend (or the weekend prior, time is sort of a hole to me) with pieces of plywood between the broken boards and the meager cushion. So much better. But maybe a little tough on the tush.
In addition to this pain in the ass, I think my massive consumption of fast food in lieu of real food is taking a toll. I feel like shit. Sort of like a big heap of shit.
Reading about Ample's raw diet purges sounds so good. But I know it is all I can do to do what little I do, and I haven't the time to keep up with the investment required for proper consumption. So I'll do what I can.
This morning I ate an apple. That was the single healthy food item available in the house. I need to go grocery shopping, as well as clean intensively, and catch up with every other little thing which I will not succeed in catching up with. All I can do is little pieces. Thus my mantra "no good is wasted". I have to believe all the little bitty things I do add up, or else it would be too discouraging, and I would stop even trying. Would have stopped long ago.
However, I do have an appointment with the magical pill doctor on Monday to dispense her magical mood pills to me. Perhaps she has some for my ass as well?
I suspect this is also strongly associated with our "couch". Our "couch" is the cheapest futon Ikea sells, purchased 4 years ago. Now as we are avid sitters, the boards in this couch began to yield years ago, eventually culminating in my husband being able to sit on the couch and on the floor at the same time. It was like the couch was trying to eat us, and largely succeeding.
Not having the dough to replace this rapidly failing piece of furniture, I fixed it last weekend (or the weekend prior, time is sort of a hole to me) with pieces of plywood between the broken boards and the meager cushion. So much better. But maybe a little tough on the tush.
In addition to this pain in the ass, I think my massive consumption of fast food in lieu of real food is taking a toll. I feel like shit. Sort of like a big heap of shit.
Reading about Ample's raw diet purges sounds so good. But I know it is all I can do to do what little I do, and I haven't the time to keep up with the investment required for proper consumption. So I'll do what I can.
This morning I ate an apple. That was the single healthy food item available in the house. I need to go grocery shopping, as well as clean intensively, and catch up with every other little thing which I will not succeed in catching up with. All I can do is little pieces. Thus my mantra "no good is wasted". I have to believe all the little bitty things I do add up, or else it would be too discouraging, and I would stop even trying. Would have stopped long ago.
However, I do have an appointment with the magical pill doctor on Monday to dispense her magical mood pills to me. Perhaps she has some for my ass as well?
Monday, December 1, 2008
Cause sometimes it's okay
When I'm not agitated and ranty, and partly to not be agitated and ranty, I make these. I make them slowly, with time here and there. Slowly.
I'm supposed to make (or jointly-make, however it plays out) wedding invites for AE's wedding. I think that is the raddest thing, and I hope that I will find the time to make them so super awesome that even I will actually cease fixating on flaws and just be able to enjoy them in their purity. The loveliness I am chasing. The state of softness, and magic, and celebration.
In other news, cavebear is finally out of HEAT and will stop driving me crazy. Until she goes into pseudo-pregnancy that is. We've got 2 months people. Figures my dog would also be hormonal and crazy. Rock.
And last but not least I will end the post with the way the day ends here. Although normally, I see it through my window at work, a good hour at least before it's time to go. The skies turn a panorama of pink, with the Washington monument way off in the distance. It celebrates that the day is almost over, another good day because I'm still standing. And it is lovely.
Goodnight. And may you have a beautiful tomorrow.
I'm supposed to make (or jointly-make, however it plays out) wedding invites for AE's wedding. I think that is the raddest thing, and I hope that I will find the time to make them so super awesome that even I will actually cease fixating on flaws and just be able to enjoy them in their purity. The loveliness I am chasing. The state of softness, and magic, and celebration.
In other news, cavebear is finally out of HEAT and will stop driving me crazy. Until she goes into pseudo-pregnancy that is. We've got 2 months people. Figures my dog would also be hormonal and crazy. Rock.
And last but not least I will end the post with the way the day ends here. Although normally, I see it through my window at work, a good hour at least before it's time to go. The skies turn a panorama of pink, with the Washington monument way off in the distance. It celebrates that the day is almost over, another good day because I'm still standing. And it is lovely.
Goodnight. And may you have a beautiful tomorrow.
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