If I consider myself ‘back’ – what does that mean? That I’m home and thus where I really belong? That the cottage is not ‘home’? That on all our trips, I’m more than ‘away’ or ‘outta town’ – that I’m gone?
Yes, it feels excellent to be settling in to the apartment again and it feels like home here. But so does the cottage once I’ve settled in there. And our trips are generally not adventures; we repeat familiar routes to visit family or good friends, albeit spending our nights in hotels and living out of a suitcase. So these trips are rarely exploring new territory; they almost feel like an extension of being at ‘home’ if you take a less literal view of the term. So yes, I’m gone (i.e. I’m not in this principal residence, as the tax office calls it) but I’m not far away either, I take ME along; and I come back different each time. But changing from who I am (who I think I am) in the morning happens every day, every hour of each day no matter where I am.
So what’s my point?
I’m not sure. Maybe that I feel in transition, in more ways than just geographically and that I’m getting curious about the feeling, and I’m looking at my well-trodden paths and the yearly calendar, and what staying in one place for an extended period might feel like, and what I’d miss if I didn’t hop around so much.
Am I being pulled in these directions by some purpose, or am I in a rut, or am I running away from something? What’s it mean to ‘be gone’ ? Is ‘home’ where I am when I’m alive and awake and is the actual location important? Except for the expense and inconvenience of packing up and/or closing down, and the long waiting periods at security, airports and car rentals, why not be me, alive and awake, somewhere else than ‘at home’?
It’s clear to me that the downside of being away is that I don’t get time to bite my teeth into anything (anywhere), and I’m sensing that I find it frustrating – in the abstract at least. But/and I know I’m kidding myself (I’m back on the Am I Being Honest WITH MYSELF!? theme again). I’m aware that I’ve not allowed myself to really focus on the opportunity costs of being away so much in terms of What I’d Do/Be if I stayed here more. I’ve let myself sleep. Maybe that’s my point.
It is and I am an Emerging Future and I’m the one that’s holding myself back. If I’d stop thinking about what I might do (thinking about living) and let my higherSelf connect with my body, it’d be a start! Inviting and allowing, boldly (!) and courageously (!).
It’s also time to Dream, even to Dream Big; to give myself permission to break out of my box(es); to let myself be tempted and to trust mySelf to know when to bite. And to see where it takes me (here at home, or away again?! or both).
I know I’ve been at this point before; and that judging myself for being back at the starting gate again is pointless. I’ll take a deep breath and know that there’s no time like NOW to take off again, afresh!
This ‘what AM I doing!?’ topic seems urgent to me today because we’re flying to Europe at the end of the week to visit family and old friends again. If all goes as planned it’s going to be an easy, familiar trip and I’ll have lots of time to let this conversation rumble inside. Dreaming is unfamiliar territory but I’ll see if I can’t GO THERE while I’m gone. Recently, nobody has stopped me from booking that trip recently – nothing, and nobody except myself.
Monday, September 3, 2007
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Yesterday
Driving yesterday, I listened to Margaret Visser’s CBC Massey Lectures “Beyond Fate’ that had fascinating discussions on time and space that seemed meant for me after my musings the day before. I have had these recorded lectures on my shelf for 2 years – how come I chose to listen to them yesterday?! Syncronicity at work! The rest of the innumerable topics she touches on were mind-stretching too and I was very aware how much I love to have my intellect tickled and nudged. Margaret’s accent made me giggle, it seems so exaggerated and from another time and place (the Commonwealth of my youth, maybe). And her thoughts and thought-processes made me sit up straight and quiver with delight.
Yesterday’s birthday-celebration over asian lunch in Montreal with my the two ‘ol buddies (whom I wrote about on Tuesday) was less ‘intellectual’ but was nonetheless as mind-stretching, vibrant and energizing as Visser’s tickling had been. I felt comfy and ‘safe’, very welcome and totally accepted ‘as is’. With the result that I could be ME and enjoy the companionship and yes, invite and allow aloha-like. It happens more often now, and I’m grateful whenever it does.
Yesterday, there didn’t seem to be any ‘need’ or reason to tell S. And J. about my blogsite. After blogging about them on Tuesday I had realized that, in fact, I do feel ‘decloaked’ with them and I know that when the topic is relevant that I WILL give them my url and tell them what blogging means for me as part of the Wel-Systems community. For now, it doesn’t seem like something I want to switch the conversation towards in order to let them know that I’m a blogger; it seems to be making too much of a deal about it. When I do want to, I’m confident that I’ll manifest the opportune occasion. For now, it seems enough for me to know that I’m happy to be a blogger, and it doesn’t feel dishonest if I don’t tell them about this part of my life..
Hmmmm. I’m belabouring this point, aren’t I?? Maybe there’s more behind this than I’m willing to be honest WITH MYSELF about . . . Maybe I’ll just email them my url and end this conversation with myself!
Back to yesterday – after all, that’s my topic!
When I arrived at the cottage after roadrunning through the Quebec landscape (lunch was en route), the scene was glorious. The weather was still hot and summery, the landscape was green and luscious, the smells were late-summer fragrant, and Stefan was happily drafting a house – a project which he’s enjoying. I was glad to be there.
Our evening disintegrated into a dumb, familiar contest of ‘who’s right’ and ‘why did I insist’ etc which I regretted. After we’d each retreated to our own corners on the ring and called a truce, I started to contemplate that I had created the ‘scene’ for a reason, that every thing unfolds as it should, and in it’s own way, as unpleasant as I’d found the argument, that it would ultimately teach me something more about myself when I let the penny drop. At the very least I’ve discovered another trigger/anchor in my arsenal of conditioned responses that doesn’t serve me any more.
All in all, my holodeck seemed pretty damn wonderful yesterday. And it still does today.
Reading Anita’s blog this morning reminded me that one of MY monsters usually visits with pangs of ‘do I deserve this’ too - and I realized, then, that yesterday my beast stayed away: I was simply receptive, grateful and thrilled; no guilt, no concern for consequences and whether it would last – just an awareness of a wonderful present state.
The prospect that the extinction of this particular monster could become a ‘new normal’ is very, very exciting!
So, yeah! for yesterday, yippeeee! for tomorrow. And for now, I’ll get serious about making the rest of today meaningful too.
Yesterday’s birthday-celebration over asian lunch in Montreal with my the two ‘ol buddies (whom I wrote about on Tuesday) was less ‘intellectual’ but was nonetheless as mind-stretching, vibrant and energizing as Visser’s tickling had been. I felt comfy and ‘safe’, very welcome and totally accepted ‘as is’. With the result that I could be ME and enjoy the companionship and yes, invite and allow aloha-like. It happens more often now, and I’m grateful whenever it does.
Yesterday, there didn’t seem to be any ‘need’ or reason to tell S. And J. about my blogsite. After blogging about them on Tuesday I had realized that, in fact, I do feel ‘decloaked’ with them and I know that when the topic is relevant that I WILL give them my url and tell them what blogging means for me as part of the Wel-Systems community. For now, it doesn’t seem like something I want to switch the conversation towards in order to let them know that I’m a blogger; it seems to be making too much of a deal about it. When I do want to, I’m confident that I’ll manifest the opportune occasion. For now, it seems enough for me to know that I’m happy to be a blogger, and it doesn’t feel dishonest if I don’t tell them about this part of my life..
Hmmmm. I’m belabouring this point, aren’t I?? Maybe there’s more behind this than I’m willing to be honest WITH MYSELF about . . . Maybe I’ll just email them my url and end this conversation with myself!
Back to yesterday – after all, that’s my topic!
When I arrived at the cottage after roadrunning through the Quebec landscape (lunch was en route), the scene was glorious. The weather was still hot and summery, the landscape was green and luscious, the smells were late-summer fragrant, and Stefan was happily drafting a house – a project which he’s enjoying. I was glad to be there.
Our evening disintegrated into a dumb, familiar contest of ‘who’s right’ and ‘why did I insist’ etc which I regretted. After we’d each retreated to our own corners on the ring and called a truce, I started to contemplate that I had created the ‘scene’ for a reason, that every thing unfolds as it should, and in it’s own way, as unpleasant as I’d found the argument, that it would ultimately teach me something more about myself when I let the penny drop. At the very least I’ve discovered another trigger/anchor in my arsenal of conditioned responses that doesn’t serve me any more.
All in all, my holodeck seemed pretty damn wonderful yesterday. And it still does today.
Reading Anita’s blog this morning reminded me that one of MY monsters usually visits with pangs of ‘do I deserve this’ too - and I realized, then, that yesterday my beast stayed away: I was simply receptive, grateful and thrilled; no guilt, no concern for consequences and whether it would last – just an awareness of a wonderful present state.
The prospect that the extinction of this particular monster could become a ‘new normal’ is very, very exciting!
So, yeah! for yesterday, yippeeee! for tomorrow. And for now, I’ll get serious about making the rest of today meaningful too.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Honesty, honestly!
Moving along in a 6-Day mindfulness is interesting . . . for me right now, it’s about being awake, and letting go, and allowing, and not knowing. It’s what I’ve been able to do more or less successfully since Wel-systems, but the ‘new context’ of the 6-Day scenario has added a different dimension; a useful space for me to play with, play in.
My sense of TIME, once again, seems wonky; I’ve had this before, and it’s noticeably strong again now. Some phone calls seem interminable even though they only last 13 minutes. Others seem really quick although they also lasted 13 minutes. (My phone shows me the length of a call, and I’ve started to notice it.) Today flew past, last night seemed long. A fire alarm in the building could be blamed, although standing outside on the sidewalk at I.30 on a balmy August night can’t be called suffering; there was no fire, no problem –except some fault in ‘the system’. What does that mean in, from a Wel-systems perspective? The residents chatted, compared ‘how’s your summer been’ stories and returned to their apartments with friendly ciaou’s or g’nights. I’ve no idea how long we were outside; the sound of the alarm went on ‘forever’ and the exhaust from the 3 firetrucks that stood, engines running, in the middle of the street at-the-ready was annoying (both the smell, the pollution and the waste of fuel) but that’s how ‘the system’ works according to the fire department’s protocols.
Systems seem to be a recurring word/concept for me tonight, don’t they?! And it’s about systems that aren’t ‘working’ for me, isn't it. Hmmmm.
What will tomorrow’s time-frame feel like, I wonder with curiosity, not concern. And will I bump up against other systems? I hope it won’t be the provincial police’s speeder-catching system because I’m going to drive to Montreal to celebrate my very oldest friend’s 60th birthday over lunch with another wonderful ‘old’ friend. I’ve known the birthday-girl since kindergarden; and the third woman at the table has been in my life since I was 10. We don’t feel like the cliché version of 60, or 58 for that matter – unless we look in the mirror, of course. These two ‘girls’ are important/meaningful to me – we talk honestly, openly, and have a lot of fun. They’re supportive, in the abstract, of my ‘journey of discovery’ these last 2 years and they’re interested, in the abstract, about Wel-Systems; we share enthusiasm for some of the reading we have in common. AND I’m very aware that I’ve never told them of my blog . . . so how honest am I? Tears well up, as I write.
In a 6-Day game, what have I got to lose by giving them the URL, I wonder? In ‘real’ life, what do I fear from those whom I consider ‘best friends’. I’m gonna breathe on/around this one! I’m running out of TIME.
Intellectually at least, I want to stop playing games like this with myself and my “good, old friends’. What holds me back? My bva’s! – the one’s I declare irrelevant and history, yesterday? Darn.
As I’ve heard often enough: breathing is good, so I’ll close now and do so, deeply, with no concern for the time I might ‘need’ to process this . . . A wonky sense of time is ok by me and lack of honesty with myself and those I love isn’t – any more.
Ciaou; g’night.
My sense of TIME, once again, seems wonky; I’ve had this before, and it’s noticeably strong again now. Some phone calls seem interminable even though they only last 13 minutes. Others seem really quick although they also lasted 13 minutes. (My phone shows me the length of a call, and I’ve started to notice it.) Today flew past, last night seemed long. A fire alarm in the building could be blamed, although standing outside on the sidewalk at I.30 on a balmy August night can’t be called suffering; there was no fire, no problem –except some fault in ‘the system’. What does that mean in, from a Wel-systems perspective? The residents chatted, compared ‘how’s your summer been’ stories and returned to their apartments with friendly ciaou’s or g’nights. I’ve no idea how long we were outside; the sound of the alarm went on ‘forever’ and the exhaust from the 3 firetrucks that stood, engines running, in the middle of the street at-the-ready was annoying (both the smell, the pollution and the waste of fuel) but that’s how ‘the system’ works according to the fire department’s protocols.
Systems seem to be a recurring word/concept for me tonight, don’t they?! And it’s about systems that aren’t ‘working’ for me, isn't it. Hmmmm.
What will tomorrow’s time-frame feel like, I wonder with curiosity, not concern. And will I bump up against other systems? I hope it won’t be the provincial police’s speeder-catching system because I’m going to drive to Montreal to celebrate my very oldest friend’s 60th birthday over lunch with another wonderful ‘old’ friend. I’ve known the birthday-girl since kindergarden; and the third woman at the table has been in my life since I was 10. We don’t feel like the cliché version of 60, or 58 for that matter – unless we look in the mirror, of course. These two ‘girls’ are important/meaningful to me – we talk honestly, openly, and have a lot of fun. They’re supportive, in the abstract, of my ‘journey of discovery’ these last 2 years and they’re interested, in the abstract, about Wel-Systems; we share enthusiasm for some of the reading we have in common. AND I’m very aware that I’ve never told them of my blog . . . so how honest am I? Tears well up, as I write.
In a 6-Day game, what have I got to lose by giving them the URL, I wonder? In ‘real’ life, what do I fear from those whom I consider ‘best friends’. I’m gonna breathe on/around this one! I’m running out of TIME.
Intellectually at least, I want to stop playing games like this with myself and my “good, old friends’. What holds me back? My bva’s! – the one’s I declare irrelevant and history, yesterday? Darn.
As I’ve heard often enough: breathing is good, so I’ll close now and do so, deeply, with no concern for the time I might ‘need’ to process this . . . A wonky sense of time is ok by me and lack of honesty with myself and those I love isn’t – any more.
Ciaou; g’night.
Monday, August 27, 2007
Living as if
Has anyone else been tempted by Louise’s question in her recent blog (http://www.louiselebrun.blogspot.com/) : What if I would have only 6 days left to live? On the drive back from the cottage I started wondering what that might mean for me,
Within seconds, the landscape became brighter, the scenery, cloud formations and plays of light on the hills and fields were enchantingly beautiful - although an hour later the smog over Montreal’s downtown core was an unavoidably, threateningly, dark grey goop. All in all, the intensity heightened within and around me; I was so awake and aware of my immediate environment. It was so amazing to see how easily and fast that happened, just be asking a new question, by changing the context.
Inside my body, lots was going on and my thoughts were flying in all directions. I felt relief mixed with awe because it was, all of a sudden, glaringly apparent to me that my culturally conditioned self, with my beliefs values and attitudes (bva’s), is so totoally irrelevant in a 6 Day Scenario.
Louise blogged about warring religious zealots who might awaken to their ‘investment in misery’. The penny dropped for me when I read her comment that I have been zealously living by, and guarding/defending, my beliefs and values. Not always those of my parents or teachers – many I have rejected or reframed (protest, yes! and yet it’s still the same conversation). But mostly, I have blindly been living my bva’s, out of habit; and believing (that word again!) I must defend/uphold/live by them – maybe as a way of defining myself in my world? It’s been my personal ‘investment in misery’ - my own. I’d never thought of it as misery but as I read Louise’s sentence my stomach contracted tangibly. While the conversation about small boxes and ‘break out of them, Lucy!’ is not new for me any more, I’m intrigued with the effect of bringing in the element of misery that is so connected to, so often a result of zealousness, judgements, defending beliefs, and of the restriction these beliefs and rules impose on movement (by narrowing thought and action). Louise was thinking of wars fought ‘for religion’ around the world, but the word ‘misery’ works for me, locally – I had created my own little war zone!
I see that I’m not able to write coherently about what buzzed in my head yesterday, and still rumbles in me now; yet I feel there’s something worth saying – my agitation tells me so. So I’ll keep going, hoping you, readers, will find some nuggets in all of this!
As I tried to think of ‘what has meaning for me’ in this new context of only 6 days left, there was a rushing panic moving though my body because nothing leapt to mind: I do not have a long-held dream to fulfill. In the past, I have not given myself permission to dream and it seems to be a hard talent to acquire ‘on demand’.
What I did sense, and still do, is a ‘need’ (desire? dream?) to go out with a bang . . . and I’m finding the urgency of ‘only 6 days’ is daunting. This game is focusing my attention – obviously it’s a useful exercise for me!
Since returning to Ottawa, where did “my 6 day game” go? It fizzled. I silenced it, until writing about it now. Why? I remember that as I neared home, I had become bogged down in the difference between asking myself questions about who/what would I BE before the/my bang and what would I DO to create the bang. I had caught a whiff of a sense of my feelings of deep caring and love (in the abstract) . . . and a sense of this ‘game’ is something I’m going to play more with.
As soon as I got off the highway, I hopped right back into my old skin, bva’s and all; habits and patterns; duties and responsibilities. I called Time Out; I didn’t mention my fascination with these thoughts to anyone, and became predictable and practical - and the afternoon lost it’s magic.
Why did I get off the playing field and abandon the game? What am I afraid of? The intensity and urgency that the game started to imply? The fun I was having, just thinking about it? That I might live it, not just think it? Change? Flow?
Monday morning:
I wrote this piece last night and I left it to reread this morning before deciding whether to post it or not.
It’s a glorious morning, the sun and air are clear and refreshing and I’m just back from a walk through the market with a wonderful friend. We chatted about various unconnected things - it is a very pleasant way to begin the day.
In the clear light of This Monday Morning: I notice that I AM actually living as if my personal, misery-making war zone is behind me, history. I am aware that this summer, I have allowed myself to enjoy and accept things, others, and situations without judgement, and that I was –for the most part! – not zealously defensive or combative – and without feeling I’m letting down my team. And as a spin off, I’ve learned that can be more gentle with and accepting of myself, the retired warrior, and it’s ok! I can be happier, more open, more present – and things get easier, not tougher. At this point, I’m not making a bang; it feels more like a little ripple or gurgling noise of a brook . . . I’m ok with that right now - at least it’s audible!
This summer, I was unwilling to accept that others around me were still very ready to see me as the old adversary they knew well – understandable from their point of view, I guess, but not the result I wanted. It’s getting clearer for me: I want to be seen for who I am now, who I am inside – and for that I will have to speak up and out, and . . . yes, not just think about living but actually LIVE as if I only have 6 days more.
On my mark, get set, go!
Within seconds, the landscape became brighter, the scenery, cloud formations and plays of light on the hills and fields were enchantingly beautiful - although an hour later the smog over Montreal’s downtown core was an unavoidably, threateningly, dark grey goop. All in all, the intensity heightened within and around me; I was so awake and aware of my immediate environment. It was so amazing to see how easily and fast that happened, just be asking a new question, by changing the context.
Inside my body, lots was going on and my thoughts were flying in all directions. I felt relief mixed with awe because it was, all of a sudden, glaringly apparent to me that my culturally conditioned self, with my beliefs values and attitudes (bva’s), is so totoally irrelevant in a 6 Day Scenario.
Louise blogged about warring religious zealots who might awaken to their ‘investment in misery’. The penny dropped for me when I read her comment that I have been zealously living by, and guarding/defending, my beliefs and values. Not always those of my parents or teachers – many I have rejected or reframed (protest, yes! and yet it’s still the same conversation). But mostly, I have blindly been living my bva’s, out of habit; and believing (that word again!) I must defend/uphold/live by them – maybe as a way of defining myself in my world? It’s been my personal ‘investment in misery’ - my own. I’d never thought of it as misery but as I read Louise’s sentence my stomach contracted tangibly. While the conversation about small boxes and ‘break out of them, Lucy!’ is not new for me any more, I’m intrigued with the effect of bringing in the element of misery that is so connected to, so often a result of zealousness, judgements, defending beliefs, and of the restriction these beliefs and rules impose on movement (by narrowing thought and action). Louise was thinking of wars fought ‘for religion’ around the world, but the word ‘misery’ works for me, locally – I had created my own little war zone!
I see that I’m not able to write coherently about what buzzed in my head yesterday, and still rumbles in me now; yet I feel there’s something worth saying – my agitation tells me so. So I’ll keep going, hoping you, readers, will find some nuggets in all of this!
As I tried to think of ‘what has meaning for me’ in this new context of only 6 days left, there was a rushing panic moving though my body because nothing leapt to mind: I do not have a long-held dream to fulfill. In the past, I have not given myself permission to dream and it seems to be a hard talent to acquire ‘on demand’.
What I did sense, and still do, is a ‘need’ (desire? dream?) to go out with a bang . . . and I’m finding the urgency of ‘only 6 days’ is daunting. This game is focusing my attention – obviously it’s a useful exercise for me!
Since returning to Ottawa, where did “my 6 day game” go? It fizzled. I silenced it, until writing about it now. Why? I remember that as I neared home, I had become bogged down in the difference between asking myself questions about who/what would I BE before the/my bang and what would I DO to create the bang. I had caught a whiff of a sense of my feelings of deep caring and love (in the abstract) . . . and a sense of this ‘game’ is something I’m going to play more with.
As soon as I got off the highway, I hopped right back into my old skin, bva’s and all; habits and patterns; duties and responsibilities. I called Time Out; I didn’t mention my fascination with these thoughts to anyone, and became predictable and practical - and the afternoon lost it’s magic.
Why did I get off the playing field and abandon the game? What am I afraid of? The intensity and urgency that the game started to imply? The fun I was having, just thinking about it? That I might live it, not just think it? Change? Flow?
Monday morning:
I wrote this piece last night and I left it to reread this morning before deciding whether to post it or not.
It’s a glorious morning, the sun and air are clear and refreshing and I’m just back from a walk through the market with a wonderful friend. We chatted about various unconnected things - it is a very pleasant way to begin the day.
In the clear light of This Monday Morning: I notice that I AM actually living as if my personal, misery-making war zone is behind me, history. I am aware that this summer, I have allowed myself to enjoy and accept things, others, and situations without judgement, and that I was –for the most part! – not zealously defensive or combative – and without feeling I’m letting down my team. And as a spin off, I’ve learned that can be more gentle with and accepting of myself, the retired warrior, and it’s ok! I can be happier, more open, more present – and things get easier, not tougher. At this point, I’m not making a bang; it feels more like a little ripple or gurgling noise of a brook . . . I’m ok with that right now - at least it’s audible!
This summer, I was unwilling to accept that others around me were still very ready to see me as the old adversary they knew well – understandable from their point of view, I guess, but not the result I wanted. It’s getting clearer for me: I want to be seen for who I am now, who I am inside – and for that I will have to speak up and out, and . . . yes, not just think about living but actually LIVE as if I only have 6 days more.
On my mark, get set, go!
Thursday, August 23, 2007
A Watershed, This Week
My granddaughters and their parents have gone home, new/other visitors have moved on too, and I’m still at the cottage - enjoying the calm again. And I’m packing up the stuff that really belongs in Ottawa that we thought we needed here – but in fact, didn’t. That in itself is a curious-making realization. How much stuff do I think is ‘necessary’ for a ‘successful’ summer only to find out it is not, in fact, imost of it's not been touched all summer. When will I let go of ‘planning for all eventualities’ and thereby avoiding dicey situations; when will I truly trust that it’ll all unfold as it should and when will I truly know that I’ll be FINE withOUT my (cautious) preparations/attention to wee details?! Sooner, not later, I now know.
Looking back on the last nine weeks since my Oceanstone/Leadership-Emerging Futures experience, I see a fuzz of discrete and very varied events. And I remember very distinctly numerous wonderful times spent with Stefan, with both my children and their partners, my grandchildren, some of my family, and a few close friends. And better still, I feel great right now. I know that I’m a different person than I was in June, that the many quite difficult moments/days were at least as important as the frequent glorious, nourishing moments I had alone and the innumerable joyful times I enjoyed being with others.
As I looked at my last blog, the ‘content’ I wrote about seems like history; as does so much of what I focused on this spring and summer in my journal and blogs. How quickly my context changes – especially when I let go! I feel as if all that is now is part of the ‘substance’ which I am and which supports ME as I go forward. It’s not forgotten, nor rejected nor regretted. And what I have gained from it will inform my decisions as I choose where my next foot will land (as I put one foot in front of the other).
The issue of context became so clear to me on several occasions this summer. After several years of being away, I returned to many very familiar spots (the sea-side house of my parents in Maine; the tennis club porch and swimming dock, at the lake nearby; a favorite picnic spot beside a rushing stream in the New Hampshire mountains). Each one was still virtually unchanged and lovely, very evocative of innumerable memories, yet as well, each one seemed totally different to me now. This awareness each time brought home to me quite clearly the choice I have between being in flow/undergoing change and living NOW (me!) and being static and/or anchored/living in the past. While I enjoyed revisiting the sites, and found the memories mostly pleasurable, I am so very glad to notice how ‘done’ those memories are, how distanced I feel to the person I was then. They don’t have a hold on me even though the memories are still part of me. At the same time, I’m fascinated that I can retrieve them vividly - from 'out there' where all information hums. So much to learn! so much to remember!
AND I know that I am much more than those memories and I am to eager to explore what that might mean..
Tonight feels like my context is changing again – I’m ‘moving on’ after eight weeks of:
- playing with, enjoying, learning from and caring for my granddaughters;
- engaging with and learning from my daughter, sometimes through importantly truthful moments and othertimes through watching and listening and recognising parts of me (in her) struggling to emerge and grow;
- learning more about Stefan as he opens up to himself, and entering into conversations with him that feel new and open-ended, and so learning more about myself as well;
- creating an environment that furthers growth, honesty, love and sharing and reduces the well-entrenched minefields of caution, fear and silence interspersed with mixed-messages;
- feeling the huge disappointment and loss of trust in myself when the last mentioned ‘creation’ seemed to be self-destructing;
- regaining my ground and footing afterwards, and realizing that those ‘setbacks’ are important feedback; that I have choices; and that my life unfolds as it should when I give myself permission to invite and allow – without judgement.
That’s a lot of ‘writing’ - for a first blog after several weeks of silence! Once I’m off this green, late-summer hillside and back in the city with reliable e-access, I’ll indulge in more musings. T’won’t be long!
My ‘context’ in a few days, back in my familiar Ottawa surroundings, will contain all of the recent experiences I’ve just described (they’re part of me), and yet the context will feel . . . what? different? new? Can I/Will I create ‘unboxed’ and bigger? expanding and unfolding? How big and how good do I want it?!
I’ll stay awake ‘n aware, and keep ya’ posted.
Looking back on the last nine weeks since my Oceanstone/Leadership-Emerging Futures experience, I see a fuzz of discrete and very varied events. And I remember very distinctly numerous wonderful times spent with Stefan, with both my children and their partners, my grandchildren, some of my family, and a few close friends. And better still, I feel great right now. I know that I’m a different person than I was in June, that the many quite difficult moments/days were at least as important as the frequent glorious, nourishing moments I had alone and the innumerable joyful times I enjoyed being with others.
As I looked at my last blog, the ‘content’ I wrote about seems like history; as does so much of what I focused on this spring and summer in my journal and blogs. How quickly my context changes – especially when I let go! I feel as if all that is now is part of the ‘substance’ which I am and which supports ME as I go forward. It’s not forgotten, nor rejected nor regretted. And what I have gained from it will inform my decisions as I choose where my next foot will land (as I put one foot in front of the other).
The issue of context became so clear to me on several occasions this summer. After several years of being away, I returned to many very familiar spots (the sea-side house of my parents in Maine; the tennis club porch and swimming dock, at the lake nearby; a favorite picnic spot beside a rushing stream in the New Hampshire mountains). Each one was still virtually unchanged and lovely, very evocative of innumerable memories, yet as well, each one seemed totally different to me now. This awareness each time brought home to me quite clearly the choice I have between being in flow/undergoing change and living NOW (me!) and being static and/or anchored/living in the past. While I enjoyed revisiting the sites, and found the memories mostly pleasurable, I am so very glad to notice how ‘done’ those memories are, how distanced I feel to the person I was then. They don’t have a hold on me even though the memories are still part of me. At the same time, I’m fascinated that I can retrieve them vividly - from 'out there' where all information hums. So much to learn! so much to remember!
AND I know that I am much more than those memories and I am to eager to explore what that might mean..
Tonight feels like my context is changing again – I’m ‘moving on’ after eight weeks of:
- playing with, enjoying, learning from and caring for my granddaughters;
- engaging with and learning from my daughter, sometimes through importantly truthful moments and othertimes through watching and listening and recognising parts of me (in her) struggling to emerge and grow;
- learning more about Stefan as he opens up to himself, and entering into conversations with him that feel new and open-ended, and so learning more about myself as well;
- creating an environment that furthers growth, honesty, love and sharing and reduces the well-entrenched minefields of caution, fear and silence interspersed with mixed-messages;
- feeling the huge disappointment and loss of trust in myself when the last mentioned ‘creation’ seemed to be self-destructing;
- regaining my ground and footing afterwards, and realizing that those ‘setbacks’ are important feedback; that I have choices; and that my life unfolds as it should when I give myself permission to invite and allow – without judgement.
That’s a lot of ‘writing’ - for a first blog after several weeks of silence! Once I’m off this green, late-summer hillside and back in the city with reliable e-access, I’ll indulge in more musings. T’won’t be long!
My ‘context’ in a few days, back in my familiar Ottawa surroundings, will contain all of the recent experiences I’ve just described (they’re part of me), and yet the context will feel . . . what? different? new? Can I/Will I create ‘unboxed’ and bigger? expanding and unfolding? How big and how good do I want it?!
I’ll stay awake ‘n aware, and keep ya’ posted.
Monday, July 30, 2007
Growing, Space to Grow
The fact that my cottage dial-up internet “service” is frustrating, slow and totally unreliable hasn’t helped me get back into blogging. But more ‘legitimate’ is this reason: I have been way ahead of my fingers in my thoughts and feelings and each time I think that writing would feel good now, I start breathing and moving and . . . I don’t write anything.
So here I am, many, may days later and still with the urge to write, to state my current truth and aliveness and eagerness to, to . . . GROW . . . that just popped off my fingertips and it fits (glory be! is my higherSelf at the helm!?)
Certainly I’ve been doing just that, and although much of the growing has NOT felt good. (A memory popped: painful leg-cramps when I was a child were explained with “it’s all part of growing” – and how poorly that comforted me even though growing (and growing up) was a goal!). Over the last two weeks, my body has been talking to me in loud, harsh tones – and I’m still processing the experience(s). Through the physical stuff which flattened me so I felt like road-kill for 2 days (the image doesn’t fit perfectly as I was still able to breathe, and relished breathing deeply, knowing that was the way forward), I’ve discovered lots about my 2-3 dances. Thankfully even as I lay there, I knew that I didn’t have to continue dancing them – Now, it’s as if those tunes’ intensity is far less; though the triggers are still there, most times, I notice them now and choose not to run the old strategy. And my body is being gentler with me again; and me with it, grateful that the message was crisp and clear albeit forceful.
And –here’s the best part - I’ve already taken bold and courageous steps (for me!) to state my position and my unwillingness to tolerate or enable the status quo. (This is, I believe, what my body was alerting me to.) ‘Already’ flowed off my fingertips with pleasure as my ‘normal’ or old-me modus vivendi was to put off stating MY standpoint and MY feelings; sometimes I’d go beyond ‘putting off’ to the point of retreating into silence-mode and resentment. I’m not willing to do that any more. And a few people on my holodeck are seeing and hearing it; and I feel very good about my awareness of, and my voice about MY place right now.
I’m exposing my edges! I’m creating my space! And I’m growing as I go.
What was also wonderful to note for me was that I manifested what I needed in ‘physical’ help: caring and open ears listened to me when needed; a calming, energy-balancing massage appointment was available virtually immediately; and so on. I welcomed my body’s messages and I was extremely grateful for the external support which I sensed I needed and could muster simply by voicing my need. I realize that I can trust, trust mySelf to help me, and that there are no accidents!
A propos . . .
My altercation with the mouse-hole at the end of May FELT like a bad accident at the time, that’s sure. And the ‘result’ is still cramping my mobility; and my foot still swells a bit each evening. But as I heal gradually, moving at half-speed through my physical world, I see that I’m taking the time that I need. And I notice some metaphors with enthusiasm. Certainly, I’m on a new footing now with many people in my life and with my bva’s too. I’m finding my ground again in a new environment that I’m creating through voice and deed. I’m walking more consciously/mindfully on the one hand while also allowing my feet to take me at the speed and over terrain that fits my needs. And I feel I’m walking towards . . . who knows where? . . . and that my feet in their own way are helping me get there.
And there’s more I want to say, though where it ‘fits’ in this blog-piece isn’t clear. It’s just clear, and welcome, to me that this is where I am:
At an amazing open-air circus/theater performance at the Bread and Puppet Theatre in Vermont yesterday afternoon, I finally heard what the puppeteers’ve been saying. We’ve been attending their performances and engaging in their issues since the late ‘70s. Each year they expose and present burning issues in the world and especially egregious ‘errors’ being committed by the American government using enormous, beautifully sculpted and symbolically potent puppets and images. They urge, exhort and demand that the audience, we the public, wake up and take a stand. THIS much, I heard and felt each time we were there, and carried it with me long afterwards. Where they then, always, went on to and to which I felt no resonance until yesterday’s performance, was the possibility of going beyond incremental change to transformation through collective intention and action. I realize now that I was not ready to hear it; ‘transformation’ was not registering at all in my consciousness. I would watch the performances, engage emotionally and visually in the pageants, and when it came to the ‘final act’ I would note the victory of good over evil, marvel at the stage set, regret the conflagration which destroyed a wonderfully creative sculptural piece (representing, say, the military industrial complex, or agri-business which devours small-holders). And I was not seeing the enormity of the scope of their message of transformation. Why am I so blown away to I realize what was ‘escaping’ me at each performance? I’m realizing fully how very ok I have been with incremental change – it felt doable, safe, enough, all I could hope for – and thus all I could see. No more! Now though, it’s transformation for me . . . it’s out there as an option that I am now fully aware of, and that I too can make happen! I KNEW this for the first time at “emerging Futures” in June – so it’s perfect that I actually SAW this at the B and P. yesterday. Cool eh? as my five-year old granddaughter might say.
And with that awareness comes my commitment to doing what it takes. Those at Oceanstone in June will remember Louise's careful and clear warning: if x is what is meaningful and what I want, and if it takes a and b and c to get x, but I only do a and b, I will NEVER have x, I’ll have something different. And it’s my choice. At that moment my body understood, and as I write now, the feeling comes back to me: Resolve? Commitment? Desire? Which nominalization to use? Who cares!
When I think back to the days I spent recently feeling like road-kill, I think it was a reminder from my body to “do C” or else. By stopping before C, I’d be letting myself down, selling myself short, repeating what I’ve always done . . . and getting f, not x. This week, C was for choosing, and creating. And they felt and feel good.
Ultimatley, x will make a Big Bang, and I’m gearing up for it; little big bangs are already audible this week . . . and I like the sounds they make! And I really like the space they make which allows me to grow bigger, clearer, edgy-er . . . NOW.
So here I am, many, may days later and still with the urge to write, to state my current truth and aliveness and eagerness to, to . . . GROW . . . that just popped off my fingertips and it fits (glory be! is my higherSelf at the helm!?)
Certainly I’ve been doing just that, and although much of the growing has NOT felt good. (A memory popped: painful leg-cramps when I was a child were explained with “it’s all part of growing” – and how poorly that comforted me even though growing (and growing up) was a goal!). Over the last two weeks, my body has been talking to me in loud, harsh tones – and I’m still processing the experience(s). Through the physical stuff which flattened me so I felt like road-kill for 2 days (the image doesn’t fit perfectly as I was still able to breathe, and relished breathing deeply, knowing that was the way forward), I’ve discovered lots about my 2-3 dances. Thankfully even as I lay there, I knew that I didn’t have to continue dancing them – Now, it’s as if those tunes’ intensity is far less; though the triggers are still there, most times, I notice them now and choose not to run the old strategy. And my body is being gentler with me again; and me with it, grateful that the message was crisp and clear albeit forceful.
And –here’s the best part - I’ve already taken bold and courageous steps (for me!) to state my position and my unwillingness to tolerate or enable the status quo. (This is, I believe, what my body was alerting me to.) ‘Already’ flowed off my fingertips with pleasure as my ‘normal’ or old-me modus vivendi was to put off stating MY standpoint and MY feelings; sometimes I’d go beyond ‘putting off’ to the point of retreating into silence-mode and resentment. I’m not willing to do that any more. And a few people on my holodeck are seeing and hearing it; and I feel very good about my awareness of, and my voice about MY place right now.
I’m exposing my edges! I’m creating my space! And I’m growing as I go.
What was also wonderful to note for me was that I manifested what I needed in ‘physical’ help: caring and open ears listened to me when needed; a calming, energy-balancing massage appointment was available virtually immediately; and so on. I welcomed my body’s messages and I was extremely grateful for the external support which I sensed I needed and could muster simply by voicing my need. I realize that I can trust, trust mySelf to help me, and that there are no accidents!
A propos . . .
My altercation with the mouse-hole at the end of May FELT like a bad accident at the time, that’s sure. And the ‘result’ is still cramping my mobility; and my foot still swells a bit each evening. But as I heal gradually, moving at half-speed through my physical world, I see that I’m taking the time that I need. And I notice some metaphors with enthusiasm. Certainly, I’m on a new footing now with many people in my life and with my bva’s too. I’m finding my ground again in a new environment that I’m creating through voice and deed. I’m walking more consciously/mindfully on the one hand while also allowing my feet to take me at the speed and over terrain that fits my needs. And I feel I’m walking towards . . . who knows where? . . . and that my feet in their own way are helping me get there.
And there’s more I want to say, though where it ‘fits’ in this blog-piece isn’t clear. It’s just clear, and welcome, to me that this is where I am:
At an amazing open-air circus/theater performance at the Bread and Puppet Theatre in Vermont yesterday afternoon, I finally heard what the puppeteers’ve been saying. We’ve been attending their performances and engaging in their issues since the late ‘70s. Each year they expose and present burning issues in the world and especially egregious ‘errors’ being committed by the American government using enormous, beautifully sculpted and symbolically potent puppets and images. They urge, exhort and demand that the audience, we the public, wake up and take a stand. THIS much, I heard and felt each time we were there, and carried it with me long afterwards. Where they then, always, went on to and to which I felt no resonance until yesterday’s performance, was the possibility of going beyond incremental change to transformation through collective intention and action. I realize now that I was not ready to hear it; ‘transformation’ was not registering at all in my consciousness. I would watch the performances, engage emotionally and visually in the pageants, and when it came to the ‘final act’ I would note the victory of good over evil, marvel at the stage set, regret the conflagration which destroyed a wonderfully creative sculptural piece (representing, say, the military industrial complex, or agri-business which devours small-holders). And I was not seeing the enormity of the scope of their message of transformation. Why am I so blown away to I realize what was ‘escaping’ me at each performance? I’m realizing fully how very ok I have been with incremental change – it felt doable, safe, enough, all I could hope for – and thus all I could see. No more! Now though, it’s transformation for me . . . it’s out there as an option that I am now fully aware of, and that I too can make happen! I KNEW this for the first time at “emerging Futures” in June – so it’s perfect that I actually SAW this at the B and P. yesterday. Cool eh? as my five-year old granddaughter might say.
And with that awareness comes my commitment to doing what it takes. Those at Oceanstone in June will remember Louise's careful and clear warning: if x is what is meaningful and what I want, and if it takes a and b and c to get x, but I only do a and b, I will NEVER have x, I’ll have something different. And it’s my choice. At that moment my body understood, and as I write now, the feeling comes back to me: Resolve? Commitment? Desire? Which nominalization to use? Who cares!
When I think back to the days I spent recently feeling like road-kill, I think it was a reminder from my body to “do C” or else. By stopping before C, I’d be letting myself down, selling myself short, repeating what I’ve always done . . . and getting f, not x. This week, C was for choosing, and creating. And they felt and feel good.
Ultimatley, x will make a Big Bang, and I’m gearing up for it; little big bangs are already audible this week . . . and I like the sounds they make! And I really like the space they make which allows me to grow bigger, clearer, edgy-er . . . NOW.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Fear Of and Fear For
Both can be real handicaps in a mother-daughter relationship, and last night the realization that they have been shaping my life since Vicky was born (maybe even since her conception?) rolled through me last night like a tank with all guns firing. I’d often bantered about being scared of Vicky’s reactions – but now I know I wasn’t fooling, I’d only fooled myself enough to be able to bury it for 38 years. After all, I ‘knew’ that children are loveable, not fearful. I’m aware now that Vicky was both, to me.
I feared her moods, her sometimes brutal honesty, and her sharp criticism; they disrupted our illusion of a ‘happy family’, disturbed the equilibrium I sought, and pointed out my/our shortcomings. I see now that if I’d understood those aspects of Vicky as expressions of herself, an authentic self, I could have learned a lot –from her words and by her speaking-her-truth example. I’m aware (now) that her anger, hurt and opinions are hers and to be engaged by her; that I felt ‘under attack’ was my response in my body and had origins in my youth and development, unrelated to Vicky.
It was huge for me to realize last night that in my relationship with Vicky I was working from a base of fear and ‘containment’; I was trying to mitigate, mediate, control situations and outcomes.
And my love for her, and my basic position in the danger/scarcity camp ensured that I was also fearful for her as she was growing up, of course, and well beyond. And my tendency, until starting the Wel-Systems programs almost two years ago, was to try to protect her from anything I perceived to be looming ominously on her horizon. Obviously I couldn’t and didn’t prevent anything – but I nonetheless would advise/warn about something I felt relevant to her ‘safety’, perform tasks to assist her, and so on – well beyond motherly-‘normal’ and necessary. I thought I was acting/thinking out of love, out of caring – with a bit of A Mother’s Responsibility included. And I persisted, even though she has demonstrated a zillion times that she’s extremely capable of looking after herself.
In case the impression I’m giving is of a tormented and unhappy relationship, it isn’t. We have shared innumerable wonderful experiences together, and are sharing the cottage this summer, with enjoyment, ease and mutual respect for each other’s needs and wishes. My ‘original fear’ that our relationship could be as meaningless for me, and for her, as the one between mine and my mother is for me, seems to NOT be the case, thankfully! I definitely feel a strong bond of love and caring. Notwithstanding, we have created a pattern in which we tread very carefully around each other, keep our respective silences and respect each other’s ‘privacy’ with amazing (in retrospect) diligence/caution.
When I woke up this morning after a short but good sleep, I wondered if my memory of the night’s tears and anguish, and attempts to breathe and ride the surf, were imagined. But I know they weren’t – because Vicky sounds and looks quite different to me this morning, and I feel very different. Is there a word for a new-found absence of fear? In my body, it’s close to ‘calm’ and ‘open’ and ‘relieved’.
What this discovery will mean, I don’t know. Once Vicky’s children are in bed tonight, I will tell her over dinner what I’ve learned about myself. If she doesn’t run off screaming, scared as hell by ME, of ME, it could be the beginning of a good conversation. I look forward to it, without fear OF her, or FOR her, or fear of where it might lead.
I feared her moods, her sometimes brutal honesty, and her sharp criticism; they disrupted our illusion of a ‘happy family’, disturbed the equilibrium I sought, and pointed out my/our shortcomings. I see now that if I’d understood those aspects of Vicky as expressions of herself, an authentic self, I could have learned a lot –from her words and by her speaking-her-truth example. I’m aware (now) that her anger, hurt and opinions are hers and to be engaged by her; that I felt ‘under attack’ was my response in my body and had origins in my youth and development, unrelated to Vicky.
It was huge for me to realize last night that in my relationship with Vicky I was working from a base of fear and ‘containment’; I was trying to mitigate, mediate, control situations and outcomes.
And my love for her, and my basic position in the danger/scarcity camp ensured that I was also fearful for her as she was growing up, of course, and well beyond. And my tendency, until starting the Wel-Systems programs almost two years ago, was to try to protect her from anything I perceived to be looming ominously on her horizon. Obviously I couldn’t and didn’t prevent anything – but I nonetheless would advise/warn about something I felt relevant to her ‘safety’, perform tasks to assist her, and so on – well beyond motherly-‘normal’ and necessary. I thought I was acting/thinking out of love, out of caring – with a bit of A Mother’s Responsibility included. And I persisted, even though she has demonstrated a zillion times that she’s extremely capable of looking after herself.
In case the impression I’m giving is of a tormented and unhappy relationship, it isn’t. We have shared innumerable wonderful experiences together, and are sharing the cottage this summer, with enjoyment, ease and mutual respect for each other’s needs and wishes. My ‘original fear’ that our relationship could be as meaningless for me, and for her, as the one between mine and my mother is for me, seems to NOT be the case, thankfully! I definitely feel a strong bond of love and caring. Notwithstanding, we have created a pattern in which we tread very carefully around each other, keep our respective silences and respect each other’s ‘privacy’ with amazing (in retrospect) diligence/caution.
When I woke up this morning after a short but good sleep, I wondered if my memory of the night’s tears and anguish, and attempts to breathe and ride the surf, were imagined. But I know they weren’t – because Vicky sounds and looks quite different to me this morning, and I feel very different. Is there a word for a new-found absence of fear? In my body, it’s close to ‘calm’ and ‘open’ and ‘relieved’.
What this discovery will mean, I don’t know. Once Vicky’s children are in bed tonight, I will tell her over dinner what I’ve learned about myself. If she doesn’t run off screaming, scared as hell by ME, of ME, it could be the beginning of a good conversation. I look forward to it, without fear OF her, or FOR her, or fear of where it might lead.
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