Saturday, September 8, 2012
Saturday, September 1, 2012
Now Is Truly All We've Got
“Time isn’t precious at all, because it is an illusion. What you
perceive as precious is not time but the one point that is out of time:
the Now. That is precious indeed. The more you are focused on time — past
and future — the more you miss the Now, the most precious thing there is.” ~ Eckhart Tolle
"We may be searching for answers that will helps us move from anxiety to peace, from confusion to clarity and from emotional pain to happiness. As the world's great wisdom traditions tell us, the answers are always within. By going inside and connecting to the deepest level of our being, the clamor of competing outside messages begins to fade and inner awareness dawns." ~ Deepak Chopra.
"We may be searching for answers that will helps us move from anxiety to peace, from confusion to clarity and from emotional pain to happiness. As the world's great wisdom traditions tell us, the answers are always within. By going inside and connecting to the deepest level of our being, the clamor of competing outside messages begins to fade and inner awareness dawns." ~ Deepak Chopra.
This post is going to be a bit “out
there” … so consider yourself warned ;-)
There was a time in my life, pretty
much around the time I was 15, 16, 17 and 18, when I was a lot more
spiritually in tune with myself and those around me, when I was
meditating a lot, in touch with nature, the elements and going to
intuition seminars with my cousin, Nikki.
I remember still dealing with
depression and anxiety, but having such a strong sense of self and my
true identity that I was able to keep a lot of those mind-related
worries and issues in check or they eventually didn't exist at all.
They didn't hold the power they eventually began to. Those who know
my personal life, know the various experiences, bad and good, that
ensued and have brought me to this point. Unfortunately, along the
way, I lost that identity and was no longer tapped into that higher
self, so to speak, like I once was. I began to fully identify with my
mind, with memories and an obsession with a better future. I always
got sidetracked or put getting back in touch with the spiritual part
of myself on the backburner, thinking, “One day I'll get back to
it, after I deal with this, this and this.”
Well, I'm done with that. In fact, in
the last five months, I have had countless signs pointing me to the
present moment. The first major one, in March, when my heart
condition acting up from stress and anxiety led to a hospital stay.
The emergency phycisian walked into my room and just stood next to me
for a minute … he studied me, looking into my eyes and then began
talking about holistic treatments for the things going on with me. I
was so taken aback. I mean, I can't imagine holistic emergency
physicians are a commonality. He talked to me about holistic ways of
relaxing and finding peace and a mindset free of anxiety/depression,
hurt and pain and disease. A few days prior to this, two people I
randomly encountered (one was a source I interviewed for a completely
different story) talked about meditation, Yoga, Reiki. My Yoga
instructor at that time was also talking about Chakras (or our energy
centers).
I felt a strong pull inside, like I did
as a teenager … that calling. And yet, I didn't respond … again.
I got caught up in my daily grind, in sorting out my emotional and
psychological issues while putting my spiritual self on the
backburner. But, as per usual, the universe doesn't work on MY whim.
Since then, I've had continous, seemingly random references to those
same practices, including me starting to receive the Yoga Journal and
being turned onto Eckhart Tolle's teachings.
I have many moving parts going on right
now in my life. But I realize none of that matters. Just like when I
was younger, I don't need to complete one thing or another to
reengage with this part of myself. It can work harmoniously with
anything else going on in my life, good and bad. And it's different
now. I'm different now. I'm not the little girl I was then (even
though she makes her appearances on occasion still). And I'm not
without my scars, my mistakes, flaws, regrets and hard-learned
lessons. But everything in the readings and teachings I'm finally
paying attention to is simple: Live in the NOW … be always present.
It's about ending your mind's rule over
you. It's about no longer identifying with your mind and with time
itself (meaning the past and future). It's about realizing those are
illusions and everything that matters and that we experience is
happening right this second … it's not happening in the future or
in our past.
I am so sick of my mind ruling me. In
fact, I'm determined now more than ever to change that. I've done it
before so I know I can do it again. But I also know it's going to
take a lot of practice, time, discipline and dedication. The mind/ego
can be a VERY powerful thing and feeds off of emotion and
identification, so any threat of separation is going to naturally
cause resitance. But I'm up for the challenge.
So, instead of just starting to
physically do stuff every day (Yoga, stating my intention every
morning, meditation, etc.) I've been reading, reading and doing more
reading to “prep” myself for this undertaking. The physical stuff
wasn't cutting it without the mental, emotional and spiritual mindset
in place.
So, I'm going to leave you all with a
few Tolle passages that have hit really hard. And I'll elaborate more
on them soon.
“For so many people, a large part of
their sense of self is intimately connected with their problems. Once
this has happened, the last thing they want is to become free of
them; that would mean loss of self. There can be a great deal of
unconscious ego investment in pain and suffering.”
"Intense presence is needed when certain situation trigger a reaction with a strong emotional charge (something that happens to me more than I'd like). The reaction or emotion takes you over — you 'become' it. You act it out. You justify, make wrong, attack, defend ... except that it isn't you. It's the reactive pattern, the mind in its habitual survival mode."
“Time and mind are inseparable.
Remove time from the mind and it stops — unless you choose to use
it. To be identified with your mind is to be trapped in time: the
compulsion to live almost exclusively through memory and
anticipation. This creates an endless preoccupation with the past and
future and an unwillingness to honor and acknowledge the present
moment and allow it to be.”
“The compulsion arises because the
past gives you an identity and the future holds the promise of
salvation, of fulfillment in whatever form. Both are illusions.”
“Life is now. There was never a time
when your life was not now,
nor will there ever be.”
“The
mind creates an obession with the future as an escape from an
unsatisfactory present.”
“The
past perpetuates itself through lack of presence. The quality of your
consciousness at this moment is what shapes your 'future.'”
And lastly, this one REALLY hit me,
because I've often regained perspective in certain overwhelming
moments of my life by imagining myself on my own death bed and
thinking about what would really matter in that moment.
“Death is a stripping away of all
that is not you. The secret to life is to 'die before you die.'”
Think of that.
~C~
Monday, August 27, 2012
Compassion, a gift or curse?
"Sometimes
someone says something really small, and it just fits right into this
empty place in your heart." ~ My So-Called Life
So, I assume somewhere I signed up for a free sampling subscription of Entertainment Magazine. At some point, I have started to receive the Yoga Journal in the mail as well.
Instead of being baffled, I'm just going with it ... especially because the things in these magazines are resonating with me more now than ever before. I was reading my August Yoga Journal about a week or two ago. One of the articles inside talked about three different types of breathing exercises people can do throughout the day to bring them into a state of calm and relaxation ... and one they can presumably maintain throughout the day the more they practiced them.
I'm starting to practice them, but it's definitely a process and like any "practice," you really have to be consistent to get results.
Another article that also hit me pretty hard was "More than a feeling, practicing compassion can strengthen your relationships."
What was interesting about it is, the article suggests those of us who are easily compassionate toward others and act on that compassion in their everyday lives are more spiritually heightened, engaged and aware ... more in tune with their natural instincts.
"You're likely to gain much more profound insight into your own well-being and have more success in your interpersonal life," said Emiliana Simon-Thomas, a consulting neuroscientist with Stanford university's Center for Compassion and Altruism Research and Education. "Compassion facilitates more meaningful connections with other people."
That part is what I resonated with most, because when I think back on the most meaningful connections I've made over the years (in my childhood, teenage years, college and adulthood) they've been borne through compassion, understanding, a feeling of belonging as well as being accepted.
However, in my past, I've sponged up others' strife and tribulations so deeply (especially a few years back), I would lose myself. This article touches on that, too; referencing a nine-week program that uses meditation techniques adapted from various contemplative traditions — such as tonglen, a Tibetan Buddhist practice where you imagine breathing in another's suffering while sending out love and kindness as you exhale.
The idea is to teach students how to nourish their compassionate instincts and to regulate their emotions so that they can feel another's pain without being engulfed by it. Which is what I have been actively trying to do for the better half of a year now.
This article also talks about why some of us lose this part of ourselves. I've encountered many people like this over the years, especially in my field. For me (and as the article also mentions), it happens when our minds are disconnected from our hearts. When we mainly dwell in the reasoning mind, we often experience other people as obstacles toward our goals rather than fellow beings on the path, according to Swami Ramananda of the Integral Yoga Institute, who suggests we take a few moments a day to cultivate compassion to help bring us back to our hearts. Because our hearts have the capasity to embrace everything.
However, the mind and rationale always has it's place, I believe. And where I've gone wrong in the past is being either too much of one or too much the other. There are those out there who would love to take advantage of "too much heart" people. I've met them. And there are plenty of "too much mind" people who are impossible to penetrate, who have trouble knowing how to live. I've known them. I've been one of them.
But when I've found that in between — and granted, it's come and gone since it, too, is an active practice that must be upheld consistently — I've found both peace and elation ... joy and love, even if just in glimpses or stolen moments. But the key is practicing more of this compassion technique regularly to maintain that balance continuously.
The Yoga Journal cites a 2010 study that showed 85 percent of adults said they felt greater well-being after volunteering, 73 percent had reduced stress levels and 68 percent felt healthier. The study supports the notion that freely serving others can reduce anxiety and depression, speed up recovery from illness, reduce pain, help older adults stay mobile and increase longevity.
One guy quotes "rather than aspiring to volunteer, find something you can do that works for the life you have right now. Start with something that's within your grasp and build on it."
I liked that ... because that's how I feel whenever I do something for someone or even just bring a smile to someone who is down ... or put them at ease somehow. It's something that is within my grasp and part of my daily life ... and costs me nothing. Nothing but a few moments, nothing but a piece of my heart.
That's how I feel every time I exchange a meaningful conversation with a close friend or connection. It feels nourishing inside and it's this natural thing that just happens. And I notice it building on itself all around me now, in the people that have come into my life and in the things people share and the bonds I've formed over the years.
And that compassion and those bonds are the very ones worth living, loving and fighting for.
~C~
So, I assume somewhere I signed up for a free sampling subscription of Entertainment Magazine. At some point, I have started to receive the Yoga Journal in the mail as well.
Instead of being baffled, I'm just going with it ... especially because the things in these magazines are resonating with me more now than ever before. I was reading my August Yoga Journal about a week or two ago. One of the articles inside talked about three different types of breathing exercises people can do throughout the day to bring them into a state of calm and relaxation ... and one they can presumably maintain throughout the day the more they practiced them.
I'm starting to practice them, but it's definitely a process and like any "practice," you really have to be consistent to get results.
Another article that also hit me pretty hard was "More than a feeling, practicing compassion can strengthen your relationships."
What was interesting about it is, the article suggests those of us who are easily compassionate toward others and act on that compassion in their everyday lives are more spiritually heightened, engaged and aware ... more in tune with their natural instincts.
"You're likely to gain much more profound insight into your own well-being and have more success in your interpersonal life," said Emiliana Simon-Thomas, a consulting neuroscientist with Stanford university's Center for Compassion and Altruism Research and Education. "Compassion facilitates more meaningful connections with other people."
That part is what I resonated with most, because when I think back on the most meaningful connections I've made over the years (in my childhood, teenage years, college and adulthood) they've been borne through compassion, understanding, a feeling of belonging as well as being accepted.
However, in my past, I've sponged up others' strife and tribulations so deeply (especially a few years back), I would lose myself. This article touches on that, too; referencing a nine-week program that uses meditation techniques adapted from various contemplative traditions — such as tonglen, a Tibetan Buddhist practice where you imagine breathing in another's suffering while sending out love and kindness as you exhale.
The idea is to teach students how to nourish their compassionate instincts and to regulate their emotions so that they can feel another's pain without being engulfed by it. Which is what I have been actively trying to do for the better half of a year now.
This article also talks about why some of us lose this part of ourselves. I've encountered many people like this over the years, especially in my field. For me (and as the article also mentions), it happens when our minds are disconnected from our hearts. When we mainly dwell in the reasoning mind, we often experience other people as obstacles toward our goals rather than fellow beings on the path, according to Swami Ramananda of the Integral Yoga Institute, who suggests we take a few moments a day to cultivate compassion to help bring us back to our hearts. Because our hearts have the capasity to embrace everything.
However, the mind and rationale always has it's place, I believe. And where I've gone wrong in the past is being either too much of one or too much the other. There are those out there who would love to take advantage of "too much heart" people. I've met them. And there are plenty of "too much mind" people who are impossible to penetrate, who have trouble knowing how to live. I've known them. I've been one of them.
But when I've found that in between — and granted, it's come and gone since it, too, is an active practice that must be upheld consistently — I've found both peace and elation ... joy and love, even if just in glimpses or stolen moments. But the key is practicing more of this compassion technique regularly to maintain that balance continuously.
The Yoga Journal cites a 2010 study that showed 85 percent of adults said they felt greater well-being after volunteering, 73 percent had reduced stress levels and 68 percent felt healthier. The study supports the notion that freely serving others can reduce anxiety and depression, speed up recovery from illness, reduce pain, help older adults stay mobile and increase longevity.
One guy quotes "rather than aspiring to volunteer, find something you can do that works for the life you have right now. Start with something that's within your grasp and build on it."
I liked that ... because that's how I feel whenever I do something for someone or even just bring a smile to someone who is down ... or put them at ease somehow. It's something that is within my grasp and part of my daily life ... and costs me nothing. Nothing but a few moments, nothing but a piece of my heart.
That's how I feel every time I exchange a meaningful conversation with a close friend or connection. It feels nourishing inside and it's this natural thing that just happens. And I notice it building on itself all around me now, in the people that have come into my life and in the things people share and the bonds I've formed over the years.
And that compassion and those bonds are the very ones worth living, loving and fighting for.
~C~
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
The Flame
Ever since I've experienced the sensation of disassociation (both in my past and sometimes even now), I've been fascinated with how it feels, works, how I would describe it if I could. I've learned, in most cases, it's a defense mechanism. But I've decided to play around with it a bit in the story I wrote tonight.
I've had this image of a detached-looking woman, a smudged wine glass and a broken relationship in my mind for a long time now, which is usually how my short stories begin. An image that hits and stays with me that I eventually write around. In this case, though, I kept waiting, because I hadn't felt the "it" I needed to feel to put it on paper.
Until today. One of my good friends, Claire, was telling me about something her acupuncturist had mentioned, a meditation of sorts, for when you're in some kind of troubled state. It's a mental exercise where we go back to images of our former selves during a similarly troubled state (under the notion our lives/behaviors can be cyclical or patterned) and we tell that version of our self something that will put them at ease, break their current negative state, something that will bring some peace. And the idea is that will help our present self break that same negative state and unhealthy pattern.
Well, as she said all this, I felt the "it." So tonight, I had to write.
I looked at my left hand, examining the engagement ring. It was small, but flashy. It didn't suit me, so why did I pretend otherwise? Who was I anymore?
I've had this image of a detached-looking woman, a smudged wine glass and a broken relationship in my mind for a long time now, which is usually how my short stories begin. An image that hits and stays with me that I eventually write around. In this case, though, I kept waiting, because I hadn't felt the "it" I needed to feel to put it on paper.
Until today. One of my good friends, Claire, was telling me about something her acupuncturist had mentioned, a meditation of sorts, for when you're in some kind of troubled state. It's a mental exercise where we go back to images of our former selves during a similarly troubled state (under the notion our lives/behaviors can be cyclical or patterned) and we tell that version of our self something that will put them at ease, break their current negative state, something that will bring some peace. And the idea is that will help our present self break that same negative state and unhealthy pattern.
Well, as she said all this, I felt the "it." So tonight, I had to write.
The Flame
I slowly pressed the glass rim against
my lips, cradling the round base in my palm as I felt the thin stem
extend between my fingers. I gently tipped my head back and let the
dry, slightly bitter Pinot Noir die upon my lips, leaving hints of
cherry, raspberry and plum in its wake.
I ran my tongue along my lower lip and
looked up at him.
He sat in the green recliner … his
recliner and continued on. His cutting words like a thousand small
knives slowly digging into my skin. The pain began to blend together,
the trails of blood from each wound streaming as one.
Suddenly, his words, tainted with
bitterness, resentment, anger and hurt became distorted and jagged as
well, like a well used, rusty razor's edge.
I looked down again, focusing on the
finger printed glass as I swirled and swirled the deep burgundy
liquid … and felt another tear brim before cascading to its death
on my forearm, leaving another mascara streak behind it.
Another followed suit, stopping at the
tip of my nose. I brought my free hand up and quickly sniffled
against it. He didn't seem to notice … or perhaps
he didn't care. He had a point to make after all.
I looked at my left hand, examining the engagement ring. It was small, but flashy. It didn't suit me, so why did I pretend otherwise? Who was I anymore?
What was I doing?
I shifted my weight to the left and
drew my legs up underneath me. I parted my lips, now chapped by dried
tears, to say something, defend myself, yell back like I once used
to.
Nothing.
I sucked in a deep breath, feeling a
lump in my throat. I imagined it a knot of a thousand half thought
notions, never uttered, sticking to each other, like sap to a tree.
Instead I cleared my throat and took
another sip of wine. When I finally did begin to speak, my
voice quivered with uncertainty. He cut me off and barreled on.
His
dark brown eyes, darker … almost nonsensical in their gaze, as
though he was more in love with his own words, the sound of his
voice, than he ever was with me.
Maybe he didn't know what love was anymore
than I once did. Maybe I still don't. But something inside tells me otherwise, like a phantom whisper.
I tossed my head back and looked up at
the ceiling, another mascara streaked tear rolling down my cheek,
past my sharp law line and along my neck. I was running on empty. I had nothing
left to give. I remember this feeling. I remember it
well. Only this time, I refuse to let my body become a deflated
pillow on the floor … beneath his feet.
But why, oh why could I not speak?
Where was my fire? When had it been smothered beyond my
notice?
I slightly shook my head and looked
back at the smudged glass, gazing deep into it, feeling the familiar
disconnect of my mind from the present.
I suddenly stood before the 16-year-old
version of myself. She was sitting on the floor of an outdoor porch
as it rained outside. She brought a cigarette to her lips, took a full
drag and slowly let the smoke unravel through the window screen into
the misty rain.
She examined the ring of black lipstick
against the butt before she smashed it into the cement beneath her. Her insides swarmed with loneliness and
an isolation she had yet to fully understand. Mascara ran down her cheeks as she
examined her black chipped nail polish. I leaned in, near her ear,
brought my hand against the side of her head, over her temple and
whispered.
“Never doubt yourself. I love you.”
I watched her eyes twitch with my
words, as though catching them on the wind with slight recognition. A
heaviness began to lift as she rose up and threw the remaining
cigarettes in the mud outside.
I felt myself disconnect once more. I was back on that sunken in couch,
swirling that wine.
“Does that make any sense to you?”
He asked, his voice seeping with indignation.
I solemnly nodded, my energy puttering. I began to twirl the ring on my finger
around and around with my thumb. Again, I felt my mind unhinge like a
door.
I saw another version of myself in a
strange bathroom in the basement of a house. She stared in the
mirror, watching his dark haired head disappear as he closed the door
behind her. She looked at her bloodshot, sleep deprived eyes,
confused, bewildered, scared, invaded.
I stepped up behind her, wrapped my
arms around her mid section and whispered in her ear.
“You will heal. Not all touches hurt.
I love you.”
I stepped back and watched her sink to
the floor and hug her knees. But her eyes were no longer empty and
lost … they held a glimmer of hope.
I blinked, feeling the weight of a body
next to me on the couch. I looked over at his thin, wiry body as he
moved closer, pulling me into his arms. I tried to push back, but he
held tight. I sat rigid for a few minutes before going slack.
Candle flames are fickle things …
they can be blown out in an instant.
I began heaving with tears. Something
felt twisted about the source of hurt trying to comfort the wound. He murmured soft words against my head,
his tone lithe once more. We were like a scratched record. Lord knows
I was familiar with this dance ... my bones ached from it's familiar strides.
Old and gray, he'd say … old and
gray.
I felt ashen already, hollowed out, as
though we'd been feeding each other poison for years.
How do I stop the record?
I noticed the lump was gone. His words
meant nothing anymore. I closed my eyes tightly against his
shoulder and immersed in the sparking blackness.
I homed in on a silhouette lying in a
bed surrounded by plain, static white walls.
It was a slightly younger version of
myself, I realized. I floated above her as she curled into fetal
position beneath the covers, afraid to close her eyes, afraid of what
she'd see.
I descended to the bed behind her and
moved forward to envelope her. I moved a strand of long, auburn hair
out of her eyes and behind her ear, resting my lips near her temple.
“You are never alone. Ever. You will be OK.
I love you.”
He finally released me, snapping me
back to the present. He tried to force my chin up to look at him. I
pulled at my face, trying to wipe it clean. He grabbed at my hands to
stop.
Candle flames really are fickle things
… a kiss of oxygen can ignite a blaze.
I pushed away and stood up, feeling my
throat expanding, my heart racing with adrenaline. I looked over at the glass of wine on
the scuffed and stained coffee table and lifted it up to his baffled
and incredulous face.
I slid the ring to the tip of my finger
before letting it plunk into the glass, sinking like an anchor to a
crimson shore.
I grabbed my keys and purse. He began
to rise, but I held up my hand and shot a fierce look that stayed his
movement, causing him to slowly sink back to the couch in silence.
“I am loved. Very much. Just not by
you.”
And with one swift motion, I shut the
door behind me … and felt the hinges finally lock into place.
~C~
Monday, August 6, 2012
Elemental Simplicity
I've had this picture for some time, waiting for when I wanted to write about it. It was shot at the small beach near my place a few weeks back, but it captures a phenomenon I've long found fascinating.
The way elements and time transform things ... take something once raw, complex, jagged and rough to the touch and smooth it out, bring a softness to its surface, an ease to its touch and a beauty to its transparency, the blending of its colors and hues ... a wisdom of age to its markings. It's not necessarily simplified, but there is something less complicated, more facile in its new form, an air of embracing transformation and its elemental sources.
Lately, I've been trying to ... simplify or smooth out things a bit in my own life. In the past, I'd do this by taking a break from social media, shutting my phone off for a few hours at night or on the weekend, making a point to meditate every day or just taking a vacation or weekend to get away.
I'm due for one of those weekends and already have something in mind, but that'll be for a later post. In the meantime, the "simplifying" that I'm trying to currently do is more in a mental sense. In a previous post, I tried to encapsulate just what it's like in my brain on a constant basis, but especially during my "creative process."
It's a chaotic web of spark plugs going off simultaneously, yet somehow making sense through the madness. But oftentimes, especially when concerning matters of the heart, it can be ... exhausting. I can exhaust myself.
Well, I'll come back to a quote (as per usual) that I always try to remember: "Lend yourself to others, but give yourself to yourself." ~ Michel de Montaigne
So, I've been thinking about ways to mentally simplify and be kinder to myself. Meditation, yoga, walks, nature, those have always been helpful go-to's, but it's about more than that.
It's about embracing the sources of change around me and letting them sand my rough, stubborn, scarred and defensive edges a bit. It's about letting the minerals and water work their magic rather than fight against the tides the way I tend to.
A lot of metaphors, I know. To be more specific, I've found myself thinking back on who I used to be and what I was about, not so much in the recent past, but as a child. I've been a spiritual and nature-oriented person since as far back as I remember. I've also been very much attuned to feelings, to the human "sixth sense," to intuition or just general instincts. I didn't realize how often I used those things to assess almost every situation or experience I was having at the time, but I realize that now, looking back.
If I met someone, an adult or a kid, I would immediately pay attention to their energy ... even as a child. I remember how some people gave me have bad feelings inside, in my stomach ... while others felt safe and comforting. I remember how certain rooms or places felt, how sometimes a room or atmosphere gave me feelings of unease, sickness or foreboding, while others felt welcoming, loving and cozy.
So, at some point, I strayed from trusting those senses and instincts and instead, began using my rationale, my analytical mind and reason to determine my situations, friendships, relationships and experiences. Reason has its place, don't get me wrong ... but I've gone so far that way, every time I try to shut out all that analytical "noise," I can hardly hear my inner self speak. And it always had really great stuff to say.
So, that's what I've been focusing a lot of my energy on lately ... letting life strip me down to the beautiful, uncomplicated, effortless simplicity it can sometimes truly be. By first feeling again, giving outside elements (in this case, people) a chance ... shutting out the white noise of judging, analyzing, dissecting, searching, etc. ... and instead, channeling my inner child, before I was tainted by life, before I knew what people or life was capable of, before I had everyone else's noise and anxieties draped over my own. To a time when I was much less in my head and much more inside my body, heart and soul. When things came back to how I felt inside, determining what I was drawn to and away from ... and it was really just that simple.
So, every time I hold one of those rocks, seemingly worn down by its surroundings, I look at its beauty, I feel its silky touch and realize it's not worn down at all ... it has merely shed its complications, given into life and unveiled its natural beauty at its simplest form.
And in that moment, I'm given hope that with discipline, the right tools, surroundings and mentality, I can achieve such a lucky state.
~C~
Thursday, July 26, 2012
Embracing Your Voice
Confidence comes not from always being right but from not fearing to be wrong. ~ Peter T. Mcintyre
Lately, whether it's my good friends going through some tough things or it's myself, the common denominator has been "trusting that inner voice."
Dipping into the personal realm for a second, as people know from following past blogs, there have been quite a few times in my history I have not trusted my inner voice or used my actual one. I've allowed things to happen that I wasn't OK with, that were violating or abusive. I freeze.
I freeze a lot.
Whether it was that time at 13 with that kid on my bus, whether it was that time, when I was 18, at that party ... or whether it was the things I allowed in the recent years. I keep asking myself why? Why do I ignore my intuition, why do I smother my voice and hand over all my power? Am I really a masochist? And why does this happen most often with men?
I'm working on the answers. I've been working on them, with help. And I'll get to the bottom of it eventually. I know enough by now to know it has a lot to do with self doubt, self worth, a victim complex perhaps.
I've made bad judgment calls in the past (like most people do at one time or another). But I punish myself for them. I convince myself that if I messed up before, how will I "know" not to mess up again? I let those prior mistakes or bad judgements and other people's opinions rule my judgments and my decisions. Well, I used to anyway. I'm trying to stop that more and more these days.
But lately, some of my friends have also struggled with holding their own, expressing their emotions, not letting others make them doubt themselves or withhold their inner voice. Like I've been trying to do for myself, I tell them to trust what they feel inside. Because a lot of times, it really IS all there. So often we don't self monitor our own responses to things, atmospheres, situations, people. Or we try to rationalize them.
For me, it's often the latter. But either way, I've been trying more and more to pay attention to what my intuition tells me. Doesn't mean I always choose to listen or I always quite understand it. But eventually, I'm almost always forced to.
However, I was told recently, progress is not a linear endeavor. You move forward a bit, you move to the side sometimes, you may take a step back here and there and then move forward again, but it's always in motion. And it comes back to whether or not you WANT to change and make progress and get to the root of things.
Growth is a passion of mine. It may be the hardest thing to do sometimes, to face things and grow from them, to peel back the layers of yourself, to be exposed and vulnerable, but along with making meaningful connections, it's what both fuels and terrifies me — the desire to learn and grow and expand, experience, make mistakes, fall down, get back up.
I'm very proud of my friends. They are growing and facing things, too. I feel like we're swaying to the movement of each other. We are learning to trust ourselves and not always look to others for the answers or affirmation. Everyone has motives, some of them are as benign as wanting to help, while others may be selfishly driven ... or somewhere in between. As my friend once said, always consider the source and take advice with a grain of salt.
There's a Walt Whitman quote I'm reminded of: Re-examine all you have been told ... Dismiss what insults your soul.
Yet, despite the progress I am making, it does sometimes feel like it's at the pace of molasses. But as I try to keep in mind, I can't change behaviors or self defenses I've been using for 16, 17 years of my life overnight. And I'm not gonna lie, I still freeze sometimes. I still lose myself for a moment and feel like a little girl again, with stifled vocal chords, uncertain motives and perceptions.
However, it ties back into trust. And as I continue to trust myself, to look within myself for the answers and guidance as well as in the connections and signs around me, I will continue to grow and learn and take another step forward.
And so will my friends <3
~C~
Lately, whether it's my good friends going through some tough things or it's myself, the common denominator has been "trusting that inner voice."
Dipping into the personal realm for a second, as people know from following past blogs, there have been quite a few times in my history I have not trusted my inner voice or used my actual one. I've allowed things to happen that I wasn't OK with, that were violating or abusive. I freeze.
I freeze a lot.
Whether it was that time at 13 with that kid on my bus, whether it was that time, when I was 18, at that party ... or whether it was the things I allowed in the recent years. I keep asking myself why? Why do I ignore my intuition, why do I smother my voice and hand over all my power? Am I really a masochist? And why does this happen most often with men?
I'm working on the answers. I've been working on them, with help. And I'll get to the bottom of it eventually. I know enough by now to know it has a lot to do with self doubt, self worth, a victim complex perhaps.
I've made bad judgment calls in the past (like most people do at one time or another). But I punish myself for them. I convince myself that if I messed up before, how will I "know" not to mess up again? I let those prior mistakes or bad judgements and other people's opinions rule my judgments and my decisions. Well, I used to anyway. I'm trying to stop that more and more these days.
But lately, some of my friends have also struggled with holding their own, expressing their emotions, not letting others make them doubt themselves or withhold their inner voice. Like I've been trying to do for myself, I tell them to trust what they feel inside. Because a lot of times, it really IS all there. So often we don't self monitor our own responses to things, atmospheres, situations, people. Or we try to rationalize them.
For me, it's often the latter. But either way, I've been trying more and more to pay attention to what my intuition tells me. Doesn't mean I always choose to listen or I always quite understand it. But eventually, I'm almost always forced to.
However, I was told recently, progress is not a linear endeavor. You move forward a bit, you move to the side sometimes, you may take a step back here and there and then move forward again, but it's always in motion. And it comes back to whether or not you WANT to change and make progress and get to the root of things.
Growth is a passion of mine. It may be the hardest thing to do sometimes, to face things and grow from them, to peel back the layers of yourself, to be exposed and vulnerable, but along with making meaningful connections, it's what both fuels and terrifies me — the desire to learn and grow and expand, experience, make mistakes, fall down, get back up.
I'm very proud of my friends. They are growing and facing things, too. I feel like we're swaying to the movement of each other. We are learning to trust ourselves and not always look to others for the answers or affirmation. Everyone has motives, some of them are as benign as wanting to help, while others may be selfishly driven ... or somewhere in between. As my friend once said, always consider the source and take advice with a grain of salt.
There's a Walt Whitman quote I'm reminded of: Re-examine all you have been told ... Dismiss what insults your soul.
Yet, despite the progress I am making, it does sometimes feel like it's at the pace of molasses. But as I try to keep in mind, I can't change behaviors or self defenses I've been using for 16, 17 years of my life overnight. And I'm not gonna lie, I still freeze sometimes. I still lose myself for a moment and feel like a little girl again, with stifled vocal chords, uncertain motives and perceptions.
However, it ties back into trust. And as I continue to trust myself, to look within myself for the answers and guidance as well as in the connections and signs around me, I will continue to grow and learn and take another step forward.
And so will my friends <3
~C~
Sunday, July 1, 2012
The Idea of Settling
“Living with integrity means: Not settling
for less than what you know you deserve in your relationships. Asking
for what you want and need from others. Speaking your truth, even though
it might create conflict or tension. Behaving in ways that are in
harmony with your personal values. Making choices based on what you
believe and not what others believe.”~ Barbara De Angelis
I've been thinking about the idea of "settling" lately. What does it mean? I suppose it could mean different things to different people. I've written a couple short stories here in the past that touch on it (The Door, Woman In Red).
To me, it's not a simple notion at all. In fact, I think it has many layers depending on the context. I can't speak for all of you, but I would venture to say everyone, at one point in their lives, in one area or another, has settled. By this, I mean, chosen to remain in something (i.e. job, current living situation, group of friends) or with someone either for convenience, comfort, complacency ... perhaps because it "works" and therefore why mess with it?
I think we all have our reasons for why we do this. And quite frankly, I think sometimes, settling really does have its place, at least for a time. But I'm realizing more and more as I get older, especially during these years of self growth and discovery, that I'm just not built to settle in much of anything that is less than what I believe in, what I'm striving for, yearning for, breathing for. I refuse to do it. That ship has already sailed to be honest. Will I regret that one day? Perhaps. After all, I'm on this ambiguous trip just like everyone else. But my truest of true instincts and intuition tells me I won't.
However, there are people who do settle (whether in their jobs, relationships, lifestyles) and are miserable in so many ways -- some which have yet to present or manifest themselves. But there are also people who settle and own it. Or they settle in one area to flourish in another, sacrifice one part of themselves for the sake of another. I've done that myself. I can't disrespect that. In fact, in all honesty, I have my moments where I envy them that. Because while it has its shortcomings, it does carry with it that comfort and security that I have not felt in a long time.
However, I believe I can find those things within myself. And the more I'm growing and expanding my horizons, the more I'm letting people in or putting myself out there, trying new things, meeting new people or reengaging in or discovering new aspects of myself, the more I'm finding comfort and security in myself and who I see when I look in the mirror.
That said, I do have days where I struggle with the notion I may be just too damn picky ... or perhaps my scars run so deep, they inhibit me from being happy with what's in front of me. I don't know. All I do know is, when I push my mind aside and just allow myself to feel, that feeling has always told me to keep searching. Before, I would "wait" for this something or someone in idle. Thinking if I'm just patient enough, it will come to me.
But I now know that's not how it works. I have to keep searching for my place in this world and living and trying and healing. I have to keep slowly opening myself back up to the world after having put everything on lockdown for so long in order to "protect" myself from feeling the pain and anguish that -- at one time not too long ago -- was all I curled up with at night.
But the search itself is still petrifying. It's akin to feeling my way through darkened tunnels, cloaked in shadows and mist, utterly unaware of what or who I'll encounter. However, through a different looking glass, it's also an adventure, a challenge to trust my other senses and instincts. And as I've been opening back up and letting people in again, I've been learning so much more about myself, what I want in life, what I like, what I don't, what I will never tolerate again, what I can live with, what I can't live without ... all of it. And while I'm still terrified of getting hurt, making mistakes, getting taken advantage of, losing myself, etc. I realize I'm a lot stronger now than I ever was before with a lot more muscle at my disposal.
So, I guess my point is, despite having moments where I wish I could just suspend that voice inside of me that -- throughout my life -- has constantly whispered, "Keep looking and you'll find it," I am more grateful for it now than I have been in a long time. It's what guides me on the rough days and it's what inspires me on the good ones.
Only now, I'm determined to actually get out there and find it.
I believe -- and fear -- I may be as ready as I'll ever be.
~C~
I've been thinking about the idea of "settling" lately. What does it mean? I suppose it could mean different things to different people. I've written a couple short stories here in the past that touch on it (The Door, Woman In Red).
To me, it's not a simple notion at all. In fact, I think it has many layers depending on the context. I can't speak for all of you, but I would venture to say everyone, at one point in their lives, in one area or another, has settled. By this, I mean, chosen to remain in something (i.e. job, current living situation, group of friends) or with someone either for convenience, comfort, complacency ... perhaps because it "works" and therefore why mess with it?
I think we all have our reasons for why we do this. And quite frankly, I think sometimes, settling really does have its place, at least for a time. But I'm realizing more and more as I get older, especially during these years of self growth and discovery, that I'm just not built to settle in much of anything that is less than what I believe in, what I'm striving for, yearning for, breathing for. I refuse to do it. That ship has already sailed to be honest. Will I regret that one day? Perhaps. After all, I'm on this ambiguous trip just like everyone else. But my truest of true instincts and intuition tells me I won't.
However, there are people who do settle (whether in their jobs, relationships, lifestyles) and are miserable in so many ways -- some which have yet to present or manifest themselves. But there are also people who settle and own it. Or they settle in one area to flourish in another, sacrifice one part of themselves for the sake of another. I've done that myself. I can't disrespect that. In fact, in all honesty, I have my moments where I envy them that. Because while it has its shortcomings, it does carry with it that comfort and security that I have not felt in a long time.
However, I believe I can find those things within myself. And the more I'm growing and expanding my horizons, the more I'm letting people in or putting myself out there, trying new things, meeting new people or reengaging in or discovering new aspects of myself, the more I'm finding comfort and security in myself and who I see when I look in the mirror.
That said, I do have days where I struggle with the notion I may be just too damn picky ... or perhaps my scars run so deep, they inhibit me from being happy with what's in front of me. I don't know. All I do know is, when I push my mind aside and just allow myself to feel, that feeling has always told me to keep searching. Before, I would "wait" for this something or someone in idle. Thinking if I'm just patient enough, it will come to me.
But I now know that's not how it works. I have to keep searching for my place in this world and living and trying and healing. I have to keep slowly opening myself back up to the world after having put everything on lockdown for so long in order to "protect" myself from feeling the pain and anguish that -- at one time not too long ago -- was all I curled up with at night.
But the search itself is still petrifying. It's akin to feeling my way through darkened tunnels, cloaked in shadows and mist, utterly unaware of what or who I'll encounter. However, through a different looking glass, it's also an adventure, a challenge to trust my other senses and instincts. And as I've been opening back up and letting people in again, I've been learning so much more about myself, what I want in life, what I like, what I don't, what I will never tolerate again, what I can live with, what I can't live without ... all of it. And while I'm still terrified of getting hurt, making mistakes, getting taken advantage of, losing myself, etc. I realize I'm a lot stronger now than I ever was before with a lot more muscle at my disposal.
So, I guess my point is, despite having moments where I wish I could just suspend that voice inside of me that -- throughout my life -- has constantly whispered, "Keep looking and you'll find it," I am more grateful for it now than I have been in a long time. It's what guides me on the rough days and it's what inspires me on the good ones.
Only now, I'm determined to actually get out there and find it.
I believe -- and fear -- I may be as ready as I'll ever be.
~C~
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