It is harder to fight when you can't talk about what may have been....

This thought came to me from a fleeting memory in which I was a frustrated and emotional young woman trying desperately to fight with her husband, but literally unable to talk about what might have been. For the lack of certain verb forms (the conditional and the past tense subjunctive), I was only able to talk about what really had happened.

The fight was unable to progress because I could not clearly communicate my fears about some imaginary situation, probably to the benefit of us all.

Now, of course, it is easy enough to pick a fight over things that have happened or are happening (or at least how we have interpreted them), but it seems lovely to at least take out the fights, the worries, and the tears.... all caused by things that only happened in our minds.

Hmm... The funny part is that when I start to look at that last little paragraph, I quietly realize that all of the fights and problems have not been caused by the situations (real or imaginary) but by the whining and whimpering, or stomping and screaming of my ego.

Whenever I let go of Love and forget to pay attention, whenever I get caught up in the drama of situations that might have been or that might be, whenever I start imagining the repercussions or insinuations of each little word and action, then my ego takes center stage - rending hair and beating a deep and powerful percussion that whips everything up into a Dionysian frenzy. And while I play the part in that emotional Bacchanal, I am distanced from truth, and I let myself suffer (probably becauses it feeds into my "poor me" drama that keeps my ego going).

I guess the trick is to be unable to fight about these things that might have been, even when I have the words to do so, to see how pointless and silly it is to rage against the ghost in the machine, to just breathe and let the words come from that quietness of what really is.

A little shift

If I were to take a walk today or ride my bike or dip my toes into some cool river, what would be the important part of each of those seconds, each of those possibilities?

The truly magical thing is that I am really starting to trust and to believe and to let go and to have faith. Worries about money will appear or how I will submit my weekly quota of hours worked, but I can just gently say to myself that Grace will take care of it... that I will just pay attention and listen and that it will all be fine. The fact that it does work out fine is obvious and maybe doesn't need stating... the fact that I can release that little knot of tension is the part that seems like a subtle little miracle.

And so I think that now the trick is to just pay my demons a little less heed and, again, to really just listen quietly.

Oh, it feels like I am repeating myself. I imagine I just say the same things over and over again so that I don't forget or maybe they are little revelations each time.

And, really, even with the same words, each time I have a slightly different meaning. When I said the same thing three months ago, it hadn't sunk in quite like it has today.

I am really starting to feel fear drop away. I am really starting to loosen my grasp upon expectations and fantasies.

There are still a thousand games for my ego to play and a thousand ways in which I will learn a different version of the same lesson.... but things really are shifting.

Old routines of self

I am becoming so aware of the ways in which I am addicted to myself and my ego. This addiction, this battle that my ego wages takes a dozen different forms, but they are all variations upon a theme.

Recently, it has been a novel. The screaming ego child inside me pleads to read, even when my mind is already abuzz or when I can barely keep my eyes open and I know that it is time to sleep. I choose to bring it with me when I go to take a bath, rather than meditating.

And when the irritation from the novel becomes a little too overt, well, then I think a movie might be nice, or another clip of Rowan Atkinson performing live, or maybe I should write another review on Yelp.

I have been warned of motion that might come in as my mind starts to become (just a tiny bit) quieter, and oh, how true it is. In my mind I ask myself what I will do today... and there is never the possibility of just taking care of my body, my mind, and my soul; there is always some desire to achieve, to organize, or... as stated above, to fill my mind with even more words.

But, of course, I cannot fight. The battle would just be between the obvious ego and the one that pretends not to be the ego, so as to preserve itself with another emotional encounter.

No, instead, I must simply be aware. I must simply listen to that quieter, calmer, stiller part of me.... and not just fall into those old routines of self.