Back to Basics

I have this growing sense that despite everything, all the complications and complexities that seem to riddle this human existence, life is, truthfully, simple. I found myself in a moment today feeling deeply sad, only to suddenly realize that it was because I felt left out - not part of something I expected and wanted to be part of. And for me, as an adult, feeling left out sucks as much as it did when I was 6. In that moment I realized that this simple fear or yearning has been part of much of the suffering I have had in my life and relationships with others. I don't know what to do with that yet, but there it is. A piece of a larger puzzle no doubt, but it's pretty basic stuff.

Resoundingly I am coming to realize that the 'answers' to life's unknowns reside in the simplest things. To be loved and love in return without reservation, to trust that things are as they are meant to be, and know that regardless of how much time it seems to take sometimes, all things pass on, and perhaps return to us in a different form. 

I am going to posit that when the shit hits the fan in life, we are not being called to 'figure things out' with another layer of complication. I can retell the same story a thousand times, or come up with a new one about what I or someone else did wrong, or wonder about past lives and chakras and which rock to place on my mantle in order to ensure the optimal Feng-Shui-ness. I have no doubt that all these things are worthwhile and have their gifts. But maybe I just need to learn to pause more often, and find the still points where the rush and grind of life is quieted. To understand that there is nothing unreasonable or overly idealistic about the things I want in life, but that I need to learn a few things I missed along the way. 

I need to learn how to choose (because I often let others or circumstance choose for me).

I need to learn how to (sometimes) walk away and (sometimes) stay put and wait, and to know the difference. 

And to be ok if I got it wrong.

I need to learn to stop trying to imagine all the things that can go wrong and all the things that can go right. Because something else is taking care of that, and it has a much better imagination than I do.

I went skydiving once, and after the chute opened instead of being buffeted by wind and noise I found myself engulfed in a windless silence. Last week I found the perfect surf wave and I experienced something similar, sitting weightless and loose in the moving, careening rush of river water. What I am looking for is that silence, the suspension of control and surrender to the forces that are beyond me. Seeking the answers or explanations or understanding of things past and present and future will not bring me closer to this.

Mystery

There are grand rewards for those who pick the high hard roads, but those rewards are hidden by years. Every choice is made in the uncaring blind, no guarantees from the world around you.

There is an art to this life.
And a tolerance for mystery is part of that artfulness. Acceptance of not knowing. I think we (I) try to understand everything as best I can, get all the details, ask for all the truths.
But the real truth is that there are myriad things happening at once, in the hidden acres below the topsoil. Things that I don't and can't see. They are unavailable to my comprehension, and made of vapour and shards of moving sunlight and dust.  Real truth is not within sight, and out of the grasp of words. I find this untenable, often, and try to force things into shape, and sense. Get clarity.

But clarity and certainty could well be the trap. The things I am sure of will continue to turn cloak.
I would be fooling myself to think that I understand or have any control over what comes next, what is becoming. In seeking that I am probably paying attention to all the wrong details, the wrong signs. The important things are hidden, quietly cloaked in mystery, flitting away at the slightest touch of the thinkers' mind and the graspers' hand.

To remain still in the midst of this mystery is the task, not transmuting the stillness into stories, annoyance, frustration or fear. But I struggle to live life in the uncaring blind.

Grace

Grace

Under pressure. In the storm. In the face of awkwardness. This is my work, to embody grace. And yours perhaps.

Life is a walking, breathing meditation and we are asked daily, in every moment to exist in this constant state of change. To bring grace to the things that stick in our gut, make us uncomfortable; that feel as unpredictable as betrayal. To bring it to the feelings that we are not proud of. It is possible to meet ourselves in them with grace. Kindness. A light hand.

It is not about subsuming ourselves, or covering up, or being modest, or soft, or too quickly forgiving. (Sometimes it is about being a hard-ass.) Grace can be rough, uncut, audacious, angry, sullen, giddy.
Careful or careless; it can be bright eyed and cacophonous. It does not need to be polite. It can and does exist in the land of Fuck You.

Grace is about stillness. The stillness that sits in our centre even as we might swirl around it, keening, pining, grasping. Laughing wildly and shouting 'what the fuck!' into the wind. It is the calm eye of my storm and yours. Grace allows us to drop the facade of competence, wholeness, perfection.
We can be broken and weak and still have it.

"We must accept the gifts of what was in order to embrace and accept what is."

the Art of happy

I was reflecting this week that I am damn good at challenge. As a side note, I met a woman while paddling on Tuesday who told me that as a Capricorn, I have been gifted with a life that is not always easy. Apparently it goes with the astrological territory. She was happy to inform me though that my moon in Pisces makes me appear less mercurial on the outside than my Capricornian bones might dictate. Thank goodness for small miracles.

Memories of trees.

But anyway, back to my point. I may not have it mastered, but as a Capricornian fish-goat I am quite adept at processing, overcoming, and absorbing the hard stuff that life tosses in my path. I certainly don't do it alone, and maybe part of what makes me good at it is that I do sometimes ask for help. And I tend to come out of it all stronger, clearer, and more myself on the other side. Moreover, I do this with a certain messy and beautifully human grace that is all my own. I have depth and I don't suffer the shallows gladly.

I found myself wondering how I do with the not-so-difficult things. The downright gleeful and blindingly joyful experiences and events that also get thrown into my arena. Am I as good at those as I am at dealing with the impossible, painful and breathtakingly disappointing?

I cast my mind back to the last time I felt that something simply wonderful had landed in my lap. It was pretty splendid. And I doubted it and myself. I remember that. It was a big ticket item and my 'receive' valve seemed to be jammed. As the light would begin to shine in I would be overcome with fear in the form of 'what ifs' and attachment to outcome. There were moments in the beginning when I was filled with dread; a terror that I was just imagining it. It couldn't possibly be real or meant for me. Even though it was obviously, and exactly that.

The good news is that I am aware that I have a tendency this way, and I am able to let go of some of this stuff as it arises. I see it for the fear-based morass that it is, at least in moments. I understand that it is rooted in a non-present mind that is yelling at me about the possibility of deep disappointment down the road, or the (terrifying) possibility that I am simply delusional and have an untrustworthy intuitive sense. However of late I am tempted to do better than that. There have been a couple of great (though less big ticket) things that have come up for me recently. Maybe these, and the next delectable item that is passed in my direction are good training for practicing the art of happy.

I am hard wired to continue to rise to life's challenges. But I will also aspire to have the same grace in the face of the stunningly wonderful as I do in the midst of catastrophic shit-storms. That is my assignment.

Straight Lines

I notice that I am using words borrowed from friends in these posts sometimes. The title here comes from a conversation that I had with my friend Julie, who has talked and listened me through some rough patches in the past months. She's a good 'un and reminded me one day that healing is not a straight line. Although it happens sometimes, we rarely wake up 'all better' never to fall back into the abyss again.

Most often I find that things move in waves, sometimes better and more clear, sometimes not. I have moments and occasionally days of epiphany and clarity. Then on the nth day I find myself 'regressed' again, turning over the same stone as before, perhaps seeing another aspect of it, or maybe just seeing the same aspect with different eyes. I get fed up with myself then. The ego pulls up to the curb and smacks me around a bit and asks me what the hell I am doing here, back on this beach, with this endless supply of sea-worn stones. Wasting my time. Get over it, she says, move on, find a new stone or two. Better, go to a new beach. She never reminds me that I have already done that, already moved on, or that coming back here sometimes is ok, not the end of the world, and is part of the process. I take a step or two forward, maybe a step or three back, but the result is something new. The ego is not gentle or truthful. And we are not built for straight lines.

I actually found myself saying to someone the other day that I am happy. It just came out, very calmly and without fanfare or analysis. I have built, am building a good life. I felt it to be true in that moment, and the sense of it has remained with me. It is a quiet voice, and it is made of simple stuff. It is not wild and collaborative and perfect. It is a calm intensity (to borrow someone else's words), imperfect, purposeful and kind.

Online

It's a bit of a departure for me in terms of topic, but I have something to say on the matter, so here goes. This bit is about navigating the heart, head and soul through the art of being 'single'.

Being single is kind of awesome. And not in the way that popular media or society might define 'being single' as being someone who is able to swim in the dating pool. The search for a partner is a thing that we seem to expect people to do when not in a relationship. This suggests that to be without a partner is to have a lack, and a need for striving instead of being. Admittedly I might be missing something here, as I have certainly not always been able to relate to the fear people experience as a result of being alone. Part of this is my make-up and part of it has been my social environment. But I think we are missing out on something in our constant quest for partnership. I am not saying that it's bad to want to date someone, not at all. Just that it's not weird not to. In fact, it could be an invitation to become more conscious of my own triggers and internal landscape. It is an invitation to return to yourself.

This all comes on the heels of a recent revelation. Having been encouraged by a couple of friends, I signed myself up on an online dating site. What the hell, I thought. But I guess what I remembered is that I am not a 'what the hell' kind of person. I went through the motions though. I wrote a rather blasé profile and exchanged a few messages. I even met a guy and went for coffee and a walk. But after a few weeks I took myself off the site for a number of reasons that are not altogether made of reason and more made of intuition. The experience has made me reflect on our desperate aversion to time spent alone, as well as the fears and insecurities I have that arise in the face of what I believe is expected of me.
I actually know a great number of people, male and female, many of whom I deeply admire and respect, who have done the online dating thing. It works for them. But for me the experience brought on an intense and almost overwhelming resistance. Rising like a tsunami. There is something, probably many things in that for me to reflect on that that I will not go into here, but I knew 'getting out there' was not the way forward for me.

Last year I started a relationship with someone. When it began I was pretty fresh out of a long term partnership and not looking to be in another one. I was enjoying my time and space, my kitchen clean or dirty by my own hands. But what emerged was something incredible, beautiful, magical and really really joyful. And for a couple of months we were swept up in the swing of something deeply connected, synergistic, and fun. It was not without it's complications, which ultimately led to the loss of this person in my life, but he was, if ever anyone ever has been, a 'fit'. Now, 10 months later, having just entered and quickly exited the 'dating' scene I have some observations on the matter of being single.
Here it is, in no specific order...

1) Connection:
Societal wisdom dictates that it helps to 'get back in the dating pool' in order to get over it or move on. The point of this (I think) is to drive the wedge of some other person between you and the last experience. But in my case I had this feeling that not only was the wedge impossible at this time, it was also only serving to make me feel worse. It made me feel more disconnected rather than more connected.
The real wedge that I needed was myself, the becoming of all the feelings and gifts that arose with that other person. To recognize that these came as a result of the coming together of kindred souls, but emerged from within. They are and always have been part of me. Realizing that there is no 'other', and there is no loss. Connection is always there, whether or not we are willing or able to truly feel it. It arrived in order to remind me of that. And to teach me what is possible, and how high the bar really is. I should be rising to that and meeting myself there, not trying to fill a hole.
Very often we feel that when the object of that love disappears for whatever reason, good or bad, so does the flow of love and connection. We are plunged into all the stories of loss and abandonment that our busy little minds can dredge up. In my case, regardless of the actual story and circumstance, I battle the persistent belief that I am not enough. Although when I shut my ears to that external noise, and tune in to what lies beneath and all around, I am reminded that this is not the case. More so it is the opposite. And even if I am able to tune into this quiet truth for moments in a week, it is enough. This is as clear to me as anything can be.
I also remembered what it is that I really want. My heart's desire. Not a picket fence, or a friday night date, or the pride of knowing that someone I think is awesome and wonderful feels the same (although all those things are lovely and good). I want connection, depth, truth. And that comes on wings, and is not on call, and will surprise me, as it comes in many different forms.

2) Scarcity;
We live in a culture that tells us, beats us over the head, with the idea that men (or women), the good ones, are rare. It reeks of competition and fear. We are told from every angle...and we believe... that it is hard to find anyone, not to mention 'the one'. I notice how this idea, this feeling, rises up in me. Inadequacy plagues me in the wake of heartbreak. But really that is bunk and it's not because there are hordes of beautiful men out there jonesing to date me. It is bunk because it is a construct and a numbers game. Love and connection are not about statistics. Despite what the media (or your mother, or your friends, or anyone else) tell you. It is about connection, which happens organically, naturally and emerges in the best ways when we are engaged in living our truth and are being most fully ourselves. A recognition of the transience of things, and an ability to notice even the small things in life.
Scarcity begets scarcity.  Abundance begets abundance. And a knowing that 'this too shall pass' and one day, 5 minutes or 5 years down the road, I will find myself noticing that whatever wonderings I had that I would ever meet anyone again have evaporated, because that is a ridiculous and absurd thought. Life is fluid and is constantly shifting, it is not static. Whatever the mind is telling you to believe right now is a story. Scarcity is an illusion. Useful only to those who would like to create demand based in fear. True connection lies outside of this construct.

3) Attachment:
I seek connection, but work not to attach to the form it takes. It is a gift in any form. Friendship is as important as romantic love, in fact generally trumps it in the end and in the best cases is the foundation for it. Above all he was and is my friend, my partner in mischief and laughter, someone I respect and admire and care deeply about. Regardless of the earthly form it currently takes, this channel has been opened. I aspire to relinquish myself to this flow and care less about the material shape of things.
This is a difficult line to walk and maintain, but it is where truth resides.

4) The "10 mistakes men/women make in relationships" myth. You know this, you've probably read a few of these articles and blogs that recite fear-mongering, blamey and monstrously dehumanizing rhetoric directed at the hordes of single people out there in the world. These paradigms are flung towards those who seek an external answer to 'what did I do wrong'. It's what makes many people cling to bad relationships and abhor periods of alone time. Maniacally dating to avoid the emptiness that is part of being human. Most of the things on these lists revolve around a central theme - don't be a normal human being who experiences feelings and periods of loneliness, sadness or neediness. Certainly don't ask for what you need, or express yourself with an open heart (heaven forbid you tell someone you care about them when it's the truth - you might scare them away!). It is unethical fear based bullshit and it grasps at us with it's clammy paws like Gollum with a fish.

The real trick is to steep yourself in being human and having feelings and occasionally saying or doing the 'wrong' things. If someone runs away because you did then it may be hard and these feelings will arise again, but ultimately you have been called to move deeper into yourself. Learn to be the living art that you are. Love the fact that you spent yourself, and did not lock it in the vault to turn to dust.

Burst

It is energy

Rebellion

A charge of electrical sea-bent storm-powered 

Wildness.

Something that possesses me at the end

of a slow, painful, 

Wait.

It's what it’s all about now.

It always comes back to this.

Meet the vileness you have been waiting to beautify,

Purify.

Clean this gorgeous dead carcass

Teaming with life.

Meet me somewhere, anywhere.

And you will see this life force 

Unleashed.

Beaten.

And awash with tears and 

Saltwater

Tearing me apart at the seams.

And burning me together

With the slow flame

That I am.