So far into intensity that I let it go

I sit here today and I am quiet. I feel the habit of wanting to explain and yet I don't reach out to any of my loved ones. I am in a cocoon, not to avoid people, but because I no longer need to reach out. I don't need that intensity. I don't need to be a walking poem.

On Saturday night, I fell into a friend's arms and was held and loved and allowed to love to the extremes of my ability. It felt like I was being burrowed into and I confessed all the desires I had previously wanted to hide without shame or dis-ease. I was clear. I was accepted. I was loved. I was given permission to be more over the top than ever.

I thought I was satiated then, but I'm not sure what happened. It was almost too much to sleep near him the last night I was there. Even my foot against his calf was too much, even his presence a foot away was too much. Shifts and healing kept happening throughout the night, but it was also exhausting. My dreams were so vivid...

I think we slept for more than ten hours and I'm sure we both awoke exhausted.

Now I'm here with my cats, in my simple little home, feeding this body, resting. I don't feel like talking. I don't feel like texting. I don't think I need to reach outside of myself at all. For once it doesn't seem like the magic can only come from interaction with others.

I just read my last post from over a year ago... and it is so fitting. I have come a long way since then. I let my love for M. destroy me.... until I really did just give up. I was confused by my love for A., though it taught me the beauty of listening to my own heart.

Really, that is what all of this has done. I don't need fireworks or knights in shining armor. I don't need moments that can be turned into amazing stories of another great love. I don't need anything.

I am fully prepared to never be in partnership again. I don't need sex. I don't need romance. I don't need someone willing to forsake everything for me. None of these things make sense to me anymore.

I love my friends. I love my family, but I don't feel like any of it defines me. I don't know if anything defines me. I am simply here, willing to say yes, willing to let go.... willing to experience and then move forward. I don't know. It is all too perfect, so perfect. Beautiful.

I love you.

You are loved. You are loved.

You

are

loved.

and these words started to come to me in the shower and I had to carefully interrupt them so that they'd last until I could write them down... and figure out where they were going to go...

Ask most people what it is they have most wanted to hear, and I don't think their answer would really be genuine, even if they trusted you and wanted to give you an honest answer. It takes such a degree of vulnerability to look into yourself and openly admit the simple phrase that you have always yearned for, but never heard. When I did this on retreat, most of the women had wanted to hear simple things like, "You're good enough"; "You're perfect just as you are"; and "You're beautiful". We would listen as the woman nervously or boldly spoke the words and then we'd say the phrase back to the person. All of us meaning it as much as we could and the person doing their best to accept the phrase they had so long yearned for. 

Mine was a little bit different and, not surprisingly, I wanted to change it to make it more like those of the others, but I didn't doubt that I was loved or accepted, and I didn't doubt my beauty, worth or intelligence. The phrase I had always wanted to hear was, "I want to to be your partner and explore this life with you." A phrase so hard to share with the group and so awkward to hear said back to me from the accepting faces, glowing with love. I felt like I only let the words partially in, but I tried; I tried to accept the words from all of them.

And this is what prompted the retreat leader to tell me to not seek a partner or, if I had one, to put my partner aside for awhile, and learn to love myself. And that someday I would then have a line of people wanting to be my partner. He asked if I understood, and I did, and I said I did, but I tried to rush past the moment. And, even now I try to put my computer aside. 

But, when I first heard Robert Palmer sing those fated lines, I knew he was speaking to me. You're right, I am a stereotypical Pisces with an addiction like all the rest. It's no wonder that The Princess Bride was my favorite movie, with Westley telling Buttercup that not even death could keep them apart and the white horses and the kiss that outranked all of the greatest kisses of all time. 

It is also not surprising that I was drawn from it by I Heart Huckabees.

The other secret, love, is that when the pain would get unbearable, as it did near the end, I told God that I was willing to let go of you, if that was what I needed to do, in order to make the pain stop. I told God that I gave up, that I wouldn't fight anymore, that I would stop trying to run my own life, that I would really dedicate myself this time. But, I told you that I hoped we were in a dimension where we would end up together... and maybe part of that me did, I don't know how it all works... But I (of this dimension) stopped fighting. See, the thing is that I told you that I couldn't fight for you, but I did. I didn't fight another person, because I wouldn't stop you from having what you wanted, but I did fight myself; I ignored the advice coming my way until it came in the form of a metaphorical mallet... or a heavy wooden cutting board with a handle fashioned just for knocking sense into people.

So, I love you, but I can't ignore that voice anymore. We can't cuddle like that right now. You have a girlfriend and I want you to be dedicated to her. I don't want to create a tension between us that will make either of us feel bad about ourselves or hurt another. For me to be single... and to support your life that is honest and uncomplicated, it makes more sense to have activities that are appropriate to our new way of relating. 

Part of me felt like I should pull away, but part of me still feels so drawn to you. It's hard, but I have to listen to that quiet voice. As I do so, I hope you can see me trusting you more. I really do love you, my friend, and I don't want to just love you in a way that is inter-mixed with my addiction. I want to love you without expecting you to feed my habit, both for your sake and for mine.

It's happening already, of course. I was calm before I got home last night and I'm more convinced that we're both doing what is right. 

I'd like to get past the (mutual) addictions and love each other without expecting the other to satisfy any aching need. And, so, I guess I'm asking if we can try not to feed my addiction. My willpower is still a bit weak, but I think we can do it together. 

Because someday I'd like to meet your new love.... and because your friendship is important to me... and because I'm doing the best I can to listen to that delicate voice.

Thank you, my friend. You have been and are a beautiful presence in my life.

I had almost forgotten who I once had been

Would you believe that both of my husbands accused me of being violent and having temper problems? That they both at least once regarded me with fear?

I used to scream and cry. I was such the drama queen.

I read back a few posts and saw how valiantly I was trying not to be the victim then, but I still blamed everything on Daniel when he got to the states. I was an angel, making efforts to get to know his culture, food, interests, and language. He was the devil, slighting me at every turn. But I chose him. I am the one who decided to get engaged ridiculously early into my time knowing him. It didn't quite feel like the right thing, but it didn't feel too terrible, and so I went with it. I was in control of my life, though it took me a long time to admit that... and I still get angry at him sometimes.

I am such a different person now. I take so much better care of myself. I have so much less fear. It is amazing.

I got anxious today and started to feel like I was on the verge of a panic attack. I went on a walk and actively congratulated people on the abundance in their lives, on their fortunes and their blessings. It helped a lot.

I also keep trying to not be scared of or judge the hard emotions. I keep feeling them and loving them, allowing them to move through as they need.... noting ways in which I can gain clarity or treat myself better as the emotions roll by. I am so glad that I have learned all of this and that life is easier. I still feel tired, but I know it isn't like the tired I have felt before. I remember barely being able to stand, confused about how I'd get the energy to even do the most basic things to continue forward with life. Now I just put some things off to till the last minute, but I get things done. And I am actively taking care of myself on so many levels.

I still feel so much attachment. My nerves are on fire. I am so in love and, especially after reading my last post, I know this decision to let go of romance and to spend some real time apart, consciously, is the best decision, but, oh, do I feel the process. I chose God though. I really did.

I chose God and I chose me, and I did it in a way that allowed me to love you better and more. This is the only way to do things. I know.

I love you so much

I feel like I'm scared to write, but I know that I have my signals crossed. There is a small amount of fear in my body, though I imagine it is just adrenaline coursing through me as all of these things pass on by. I have to admit that it gets easier. I keep having emotions to pass through and let go of, but it isn't as overwhelming. I can breathe and make myself a little more expansive and open. I can go into a sensation and explore it. I can scream into my pillow to help facilitate the release of anger. I can appreciate this flame point cat rubbing his face against my computer monitor. He has taken to sleeping right near my head. I think he knows that I yearn for companionship and the trick is to see God in everything, and not just where I want to see it.

God seems so clear when I look at you. Your smile is radiant. Your skin and scars are divine. I could listen to anything you had to say for days. Life has never felt so complete or so easy as it does in your arms.

And, yet, I find myself then more trapped. I get so attached to you. I begin to shadow box, trying to remember how to just love myself, trying to remember how to be my own lover.
I spent one night in your arms and I get so lost in you. This isn't your fault. You're off doing your own thing while I'm on a little roller coaster.

I did get my wish though, the roller coaster was smaller this time around... but, I get scared. And I find myself praying, willing to let anything be taken away: any memory, any attachment, anything... just so I can have peace again.

But then, as soon as I find a place of calm, I find myself adoring you again, wanting to make you little things and mail them to you anonymously. It is like nothing I could ever do would ever let me show enough love to you. I want a family with you, a baby, a home, chickens, a dog. I want to explore all of our dreams and all of our realities. I want to give you everything and I just want to adore you and your crooked smile.

Yet, I sometimes wonder if I can even stand to see you right now.

I can work on all other demons with you, but not this attachment. When I am with you, it all feels fine. But, then I want more and I don't really all of the moments when you aren't there. Oh, some of them I do. I can allow myself to enjoy the moment of shooting Devin's M1A or really allow myself to experience and enjoy a moment of love with my cat. I can see that I am figuring it out. I can see that I am slowly learning to appreciate each moment and take better care of myself.

Though each time I let go of another layer of attachment to you, it seems like I just love you more. This would work out fine, except that I can't seem to stop filling those holes I empty. I create space by getting rid of attachment and I fill it with more attachment. I probably need to spend more time away from you.

I may need to speak to my teacher about this.

I want a companion on this journey of life, not someone that I let get in my way.

Though, I know that I have to look inside myself first. There is something that I want from outside of myself that I am having trouble seeing inside myself. I hope that the weighted blanket helps.

I love you so much and it sucks that we seem to need to spend less time together right now, but I know that I can't be a good partner or a good friend (either to myself or to you), until I can more easily get rid of attachment and less easily build it up.

Process

I write you my process. I sit here cross-legged with a purring cat on my lap. I can feel his back against my stomach as I lean forward to reach the keys. He is kneading the mattress between my feet and the computer. Smooth shows so much love and my heart just hurts so much. And I just don't want to feel so tired. I don't want to feel like my nerves are so exposed and I'm not too fond of this moment; I'm ready to move forward a few months and just see what good can come later.

I don't want to feel like a victim and I don't want to blame. I know I need to change my reactions. I know that I need to let people be who they are, but there are things I need to heal and I don't know how else to get them. I ask for them and I try to give myself conditions conducive to them. I give up control to the universe as much as possible. Each day I start afresh, ready to forget that yesterday I did not get what I needed, ready to forget that an hour ago I didn't get what I needed, ready for this moment to be what I need.

But, I don't get what I need and asking for it over and over is so tiring. I hear that I am understood and that I will get what I need, but then I don't, again. I try not to let resentment build-up. I hear myself thinking and feeling anger, hatred, despair. I resist the urge to say things that would make the other person really understand how terrible this feels. I resist. I will not draw up things from my past. I need to be in this moment and I am not a victim. I feel compassion for myself. I remember to have indifference in the presence of error, but I don't feel it. I feel so tired.

When given all the choices, the most important seems to be to not feel tired. So, I ask myself in this instant....what can I do to not feel so tired? There are obvious things like more yoga and meditation, and not pushing myself so hard. I can always eat healthier. (Another cat has arrived on my lap; it gets harder to type. This seems to melt the knot in my heart, to mix metaphors.)

I can stay in the moment more. I can do this with the cats, but with so many things. My thoughts keep running forward and back.

Oh, how nice. I started by thinking of all the times my thoughts have gone into the past or the future, which, ironically, doesn't have me in the present. Then my cats....well, they bring me into the present with inordinate amounts of cat love. Also, I put on my hippy music, Donna De Lory currently sings Om Nama Shivaya, my favorite.

Still my heart hurts. I feel confused, lost.... maybe this comes from trying to make a decision when all decisions would take me out of this moment.

I want to blame someone else because why in the world would I choose to let myself suffer so?

Certain phrases, heard or read, float through my mind..... I have been told that I should know why each person is in my life; each person should be there for a reason. And I try to think why this person is in my life and sometimes all I can come up with is to potentially give me more time and money (in the future), to cook for me, and to push every button I have so that I can learn and grow.

And do I want that final thing? Did I fucking pray for patience?

(Meaning that we have to be careful what we pray for because the only way to learn patience is by spending lots of time in situations that demand it, like being stuck with an annoying person....)

Is he my inspiration, meant to teach me the painful way? Or is this just the universe giving me what I had asked for? So much time of playing the victim and suffering and now I can make a victim of myself, see myself as the victimizer and the decision maker....... Having the prayer for suffering answered......

This email takes longer to write than it appears. I keep stopping and spending time in the song, in the words, in the feel of the keys, in the cat's head resting on my wrist......... There is much process here. A lifetime has passed since the opening words, whatever they were.....

I realize that in this moment the relationship to this particular manifestation of god doesn't really matter, but writing this email is terribly important, pausing on occasion to sing, hey ma durga......

Seeing that my patterns are changing..... that is important. I chose to write this email. I chose to examine my victimness and my patterns, rather than stumble blindly into rage and sorrow. This in itself is a valiant step. I didn't mask the aching tristeza in my heart with boiling fury. I didn't push the wrath down with castigation and admonishments of inappropriateness. I didn't drown in my tears and my words, though not always kind, were not nearly as hurtful as my habit would have had.

I am sleepy still, an emotional hangover. Something like this feels too big to ignore. How can I get up now and take a shower? I need to write more. I need to continue in this moment with the cat, the keyboard and beginnings of winter cold. I want to sleep more. I want to wake up later and feel refreshed. I try to convince myself that creating flyers and putting them on people's doors is just as an important part of my spiritual journey. I have met the saintly janitor; I know that I don't have to be on retreat or living in an ashram to be a part of god. My every waking moment can be meditation in action, even if I feel sadness dripping through my system and congealing around my heart. It is no more spiritual or healing to go to sleep with my cat and then wake for food, meditation, asana and humor than to go to work and plan a conference, invite people to the host reception and train someone on how to prepare quarterly reports. Mailing the lease! Calling for help to fill out a form! Designing web site content!

I can do each thing with an open heart. I can choose each moment what way to live in order to care for myself. I can do each action with consciousness and let god take the reins.

So much more to say.... more of the same, probably more helpful to me than to you..... but I prepare to depart from this moment of healing music and healing cat kisses and healing email........

Thank you.

Faith and Fairness

I noticed this week that I have this yearning for fairness which makes me act like a child. I want to throw tantrums, kicking and screaming, because things don't go my way. I was in the shower this morning, angry, and I knew that the anger didn't come from him, but from me.

I tried to figure it out. What wasn't I seeing? What was the real cause of the anger? I guessed that it somehow came from my desire to control him, but I wasn't quite sure what the real answer was.

I knew I wasn't paying enough attention.

My brain has been so foggy lately, just trying to take care of myself.

Little experiments, eating less gluten (though I'm currently waiting to go pick up a pizza with green chile crust... all things in moderation, I suppose), taking cooler showers, making popsicles instead of eating so much candy, taking vitamin D, journalling more/again, etc. I let myself fall away from so many healthy things and I am trying both to remedy that and also to be kind to myself, seeing each little step back toward strength as a beautiful part of the process and not berating myself for not doing all of it right now.

And, all of this goes together. All of it comes down to paying attention and listening to the Universe. I asked for something and the Universe is communicating a gentle 'no.' I can accept or I can throw myself upon the floor and wail and beat my hands against the floor. The battle for this fairness is draining and it makes home life so uncomfortable. It isn't even something I really need.

I need to listen, to pay attention, to accept graciously what the Universe gives me.
I'm also looking at Faith. What role does it play in my life? What role do I want it to play in my life?

How do I want to live?

I became weak when I stopped paying attention. I really pay attention briefly... and it is then when my writing is the most profound and my life the most beautiful and easy. So, this week I look at Faith... and I hope that soon I can just open up and completely trust the world, the universe, all of it.

I spent yesterday in silence

Yesterday, I didn't speak. Well, I accidentally said, "yes," while we were at the swimming pool, but I was otherwise quiet. It was lovely.

I know that it frustrated my husband a bit. He had questions for me. He wanted to know how to pronounce things and what things meant, but I just touched my lips and shrugged. Sorry.

It was really lovely though. I saw how often idle chatter ends up with us fighting, over silly little things. He was upset because someone at the bus stop had been talking to him and I didn't intervene. He told me this. I looked at him. I listened. I cared... but I didn't reply. And so the conversation moved forward.

He was frustrated with the fact that he can't make calls to El Salvador and commented how things are crazy here, how we pay for the phones and can't use them. I could sense myself wanting to talk about things are crazy in El Salvador or explain how our phones work... again, with frustration. I just had to shrug though... and when I am able to talk to him, I will do so with calm.

I woke in the middle of the night and was able to see the points during the day where I had been judgmental and the times when I wanted to react based on old patterns. With a little bit of gentle quiet wisdom from Grace, I was able to see how I could be a little bit calmer and a little bit more loving.

We went to the pool and hung out together and I had the energy for it and it felt nice.... often times it feels like there isn't enough time for doing the responsible things I need to go, spending time with him, and dedicating myself to my spiritual practice... but yesterday I took the spiritual practice with me.

I was tempted to explain some of this to him, but I realize that this isn't where he is at... and that is fine.

He is about to get up... we shall see how this day goes. Oh, how I would like to maintain the silence.

Death

Death became a friend when I was fairly young and it is interesting to watch as our relationship changes. First, my grandfather died and this sent me reeling for years as I looked at how I lived my life and I wanted to change things based on the fact that anyone could die suddenly, including myself.

I spent many years telling people how I felt about them and making sure that I had no loose ends. I wrote the letters and made the calls that I wanted to make. I made peace. I let go. I didn't take things for granted.

Then my grandma died and it was sad, but I was able to work with that experience to look at how others reacted to death. I remember seeing the preacher smile. He didn't seem sad at all. That seemed odd for a second but then quickly seemed quite nice. It made sense based on what his religion said.

After many years I finally approached The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying, one that I had seen for many many years.... and I felt compelled to be closer to those that were dying.

Then workshops that dealt with grief and loss. And I sobbed and felt cracked open. My walls fell and I was vulnerable to the world and loved everyone.

Now, I read about death and it is calmer. It is no longer an emotional experience. It is no longer something that makes me run to complete tasks left undone.

I lie in savasana and I, however briefly, am willing to let go of this personality, this ego, this body, to connect to something bigger than myself.

And I know that death does not have to be the only motivation to let go and surrender, but it is such a sweet one.

Where the words will take me, riding on the back of a silent scream, and a hug the size of the Milky Way

Here is the difference: Before when my heart was aching, there was usually drama in accompaniment. There would be weeping and anger. I would call everyone I knew, telling them my tale of woe until they felt sorry for me. My internal dialog vacillated between anger, depression and sorrow. I was the victim.

Right now, my heart hurts again. I still feel the urge to call my daddy or to change my status on facebook to let everyone know just how hard this moment is.... but I'm trying just to breathe and to notice.

The quality of light in my living room is beautiful right now. I have food. I can take a bath.

My heart hurts.

Much of what is happening right now is not my drama. It is the drama of Daniel and the people in El Salvador. The drama that I have comes from my reaction and from my pattern of wanting to play the victim.

I hear myself worrying about his safety and then exhausted with the process and then angry at him for not spending 24 hours a day locked in his room. Then I move to worried about what types of friends he might make here and how exhausting it could be to have him here.

And there is a silent reminder that all of this feeds into me wanting to play the victim... and all of this doesn't really show true Love directed at him... and that nothing has really changed from a few hours ago when I was brushing the cat and watching a movie.

And I remind myself that, yes, I am exhausted... but only because I am trying to do it all. I am not letting Grace do it.

And I listen... and Grace quietly suggests a bath, meditation, some writing, maybe some yoga... but just one small thing at a time. One moment... One second... One instant at a time.

And this conversation continues as I type. There is a desire to wail and cry and give up... to sleep until a day arrives when nothing difficult will happen. And there is an awareness that I am connected to something much greater than this room and this tiny little bump in the road.

Part of me wants to yell and scream and say, "Fuck you world, I haven't even had a real hug for three months!" And part of me quietly and calmly knows that this is just another thought to garner pity and rob energy... that I can connect to the whole universe and be hugged by all the stars....

And this dizzying vertigo as I dance around the addictive drama of my ego and feel the connection to something impossible to lose, this reminds me of the way I used to feel when the desire to write would become so strong that I would stop along the side of the road and let whatever came to me pour upon the page.... and I never knew where I was going or what the words might say or who they might want to speak to... and I never stopped them... and I just let them pour out...

And I wanted to be Jack Kerouac, taping the pieces of paper together so that I would never have to be distracted by putting a new piece into the typewriter....

And I wanted to be brave just because I didn't censor... and I used to think that meant that I would tell everyone in the whole world every secret I ever had. I wanted to be bold and dashing. I thought that meant the courage to write like Poppy Z. Brite about homosexual cannabilistic serial killers, but without a pen name. I thought that I had to be willing to be something that might not be accepted... and at full volume... screaming my braveness from the highest mountain top.

I wanted to suffer and plead upon the rocks... as long as my pain could stop one heart from aching... oh dear... dear Emily Dickinson.... And then I realized that I was completely fucking wrong.. maybe.

Honesty doesn't mean offensive and abrasive. It doesn't mean saying things that break your mother's heart. It can be quiet and calm and happy..... Honesty can be content and useful....

And here I am screaming the cry of a deaf-mute out onto a digital page... giving it all I got and I don't even know if anyone will ever read it... And it might not even matter... because here I am... brave enough to love, brave enough to not be the victim and not be the prince in shining armor... brave enough to just let go... to not be scared.... and to not run away from fear.....

To be the one that hugs my ego... as I do the back stroke in this pool of love....

Yes, even though I want to cry and even though I don't know what is coming in the next 10 seconds, let alone the rest of the week, month, day, year....

I am here. I am okay. I am calm. I am open.

Thank you.

This moment of silence is beautiful

It isn't because I'm busy that I don't feel like socializing. It isn't because my schedule is so packed with meetings and graduations, birthdays and celebrations, fiestas and paperwork. It isn't because I'm afraid or uncomfortable. It isn't because I can't carry the small talk or tell an entertaining story. It isn't because your event is draining or because I'm in a new town.

I can't explain that I just have no need to hear your little stories to get to know you. I don't need to know your favorite color, where you went to school or what type of music you like to see into your soul. We don't need to giggle over a little joke that we can reminisce over next week when are back at work.

I don't need that to feel a connection to you.

I don't need to bond over burgers and beer so as to not feel lonely.

I just like being alone. I just appreciate this time and place in my life. I cherish it but don't cling to it.

This is where I am at... this part of this retreat... this part of this life...

I hang out with the cats.... maybe we take a bath... or meditate... or stream a movie on netflix.

Oh, yes... I am here blogging to myself. Writing without a witness.... Witnessing only I....

And the sister was pretty and the son was funny and the deck was well-made, but that was then... 20 minutes ago... and now.... well, I'm here... in my quiet.

And, I don't know if I can explain it... or even if I want to, but I appreciate it and I love it... and this moment of silence is beautiful.

Staying in the present.....

When I step out of the present, I get tired. Too much thinking and I just want to go to bed.

I got a raise yesterday, and then part of me was thinking about the new amounts of work and how I could keep up while still taking care of myself... and how much more money I would make per month... and when the new pay checks would start..... and how there might be room for growth in this little non-profit.... And, then, oh the sleepiness. By 7pm I was ready to crawl into bed.

I kept listening to Grace, but the ego was shouting. I was calmer than I think I would have been just a few months before. There was less of an emotional roller-coaster, but I am just becoming more sensitive to these ups and downs. Even the few (dozen) stray thoughts that stayed longer than they were asked was tiring, but the good news is that I recognize this.

My anniversary was Sunday as well.... and I just couldn't cry and be sad because we weren't together. It just seemed to me that I had lived him the day before and the day before that and would continue to love him the next day... and why just this special day? Why just this day to build up expectations and be more likely to be let down?

Why remember the past that had good things but that also had problems, which are better now as we have continued to grow and become calmer? I didn't even need to look forward, yearning for the day when he will arrive. I was just comfortable as it was.

And when I did have those few moments of my heart aching... after listening to him and his bit of sorrow. Well, I listened to and paid attention to that tight pain in my heart, but I also listened to quiet Grace.

I took a bath. I read. I played with the cats. I meditated.

The more I just stay present, rather than drifting in dreams, the calmer and more content I feel.

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.

A little reminder for myself

I wrote to my teacher yesterday, slowly, carefully.... I was connected. I was honest. It was beautiful. My migraine went away afterward and my own words keep appearing in my head whenever I find myself obsessing and getting lost time, space or matter.

Before I wrote, I wanted to see last week as a failure. I talked too much. I told jokes and stories to be cool, funny and interesting. I let myself get excited and then stressed over immigration issues. I didn't take care of myself as well as I should have. The list goes on.

But I wrote and saw that I was paying attention, that I was learning, that I was loving myself. I had to admit that I knew almost immediately that my words were not useful, necessary or kind. And this awareness is something new.

I did choke on one sob this week, but I just loved myself and felt it and connected. And I had to remember that it was not that long ago that I was having daily panic attacks and couldn't handle anything.

So, the kindness and the surrender seem to be seeping in. And the writing helped so much.

I want to get that degree of honesty and connection in all of my writings... and all of my words and everything. And the writing really does help. I have perspective.

So, today I have to see that I keep wanting to get lost in how many hours of work I can get done or trying to get my apartment spic and span for my step-mom. Breathe.

The migraine starts to come back when my mind whirs too loud.

It isn't that I can't work or clean... it is that I need to stop obsessing and restricting energy flow. I need to just accept and surrender and enjoy the moment, whether I am cleaning the toaster oven, dancing to reggaeton or eating pizza.

I just need to keep this quality all of the time.

I need to listen.

Intention

No concern, no fear, no gossip, no intrigue. Simply quiet surrendering joy.

I want to connect to and radiate joy and love.

Migraines

When on the verge of a migraine, my brain doesn't work and I feel nauseous. There seems to be a fog between myself and paperwork. A haze creeps around me. Stress increases as I try to make files or type letters.

I persisted though and dealt with immigration stuff, maybe not the best idea....

But I also tried to not fight the migraine. I tried to just surrender, to connect, to be love, to listen to the voice that told me to dance.

When I danced, all was well. When I stopped and breathed, all was well. When I cooked, all was well.

But the computer, the thoughts, the little obsessings, brought stress to my muscles and tension to my stomach.

I want to surrender to Grace. I want to just live as an expression of source. I know that this is more real and necessary and helpful to everyone and everything than waiting on hold with the IRS.

Today, at work, I want to quietly listen and surrender.

I want to stop directing the conversation and talking so much... I don't need to be witty or interesting. I need to be a quiet and magnificent manifestation of the love of God.

Oh, these old silly habits.

Hey, those are my demons!

I was cuddled in bed this morning... half-dreaming, half-listening... I had a dream that resolved around a problematic issue from the past that woke me. I stumbled to the bathroom and realized that the energy from my loved one felt different when he said those hurtful things. Ahh, I realized, it was not him that said those kind of words; it was his demons that spoke those words, that caused that pain, that blocked us off from Love.

I gracefully crawled back into bed and realized... Hey, those are my demons! Yes! As I focus on the pain of the past, as I let the pain of different lovers merge, I realize that they are my projections, my pains, my disembodied demons milling about. The key is not playing with that demon energy. Yes! Yes! I thought and then yes, yes... as I drifted back to sleep.

Then, in the shower, I realized that those demons also play with me when they have me focusing on work, on budgeting, on judgmental things, when I really just want to be meditating and letting go into Grace and God.

So, let go... let go! Let Go! I say.....

Ego Tricks Part One: Time

My ego plays tricks. I play mind games with myself.

A popular one is obsessing over time: Will I get to work on time? I was the first at work, again! How long have I been on lunch? How much time until the end of the day? How long did my commute take me? How should I micromanage my free time? Where did the time go?

The questions swirl in tight little circles and everything sinks into that one heavy moment.

The energy stops flowing and I stop quietly enjoying the moment. I stop paying attention.

This is one pattern to gently disassemble.

11/5/11 Note: Ha! I can't even remember being like this. I know I still care about being on time, but this is one thing that apparently got unraveled when things fell apart earlier this year.

A brief introduction

February seems an appropriate time to start this blog as now is the time when I cut myself off from so many sources of input. Until the end of February, probably until after my birthday, I will not read, not books or news, only things for work and a small book of poetry by Hafiz, I Heard God Laughing. I have also taken away movies, Myspace and Facebook, along with the fact that I keep trying to talk less and less.

I saved at least 400 anytime minutes this month on my cell phone and probably 1,000 more of mobile-to-mobile and night and weekend minutes. Yet still I find myself talking and I become aware that I am talking just to throw a bit of myself out there, just to have some of my energy floating around and recognized by the people around me.

This seems silly, as I know that my energy is out there and that people in other states and countries can recognize it and I can connect to the whole universe, but I guess old habits are hard to break.

I found myself doing sudoku last night, maybe as an attempt to pacify myself. I am not sure if I need to take those away for this month or not as well. I am thinking of going to the library and checking out a book of paintings. I also want to buy some finger paints and some paper. I want to take more photos and more slow walks. I want to change the way in which I express and see myself. I want to go deeper and sideways and see what this life has to offer.

I write here because I want to share, but I don't want to talk and talk about myself at a time when I would rather be listening.

I like writing. It helps me find clarity. It helps me find quiet.

Okay, off to the store..... much love.

11/5/11 Note: Oh! All of what I was working so hard at changing then changed when I lost my mind this year. I have to say I'm glad that so much of me was broken down.