Look Around You ... Go With It

“I believe in going with the flow. I don't believe in fighting against (it). You ride on your river and you go with the tides and the flow. But it has to be your river, not someone else's. I don't believe in fighting the wind. You go and you fly with your wind. Let everyone else catch their own gusts of wind ... you fly with yours.” ~ C. JoyBell

I've recently been asked what my goals in life are. Approaching 30, many people go to "marriage, children, family."

For me, though, while they've changed some over the years, I'd say for the last 8 years or so, I've had the same main aspirations — traveling, writing, enlightenment, inspiring/helping others .... and the hopes of someone to share it all with and grow with.

I used to get perturbed when someone would act surprised by my lack of a desire for the marriage, the house, the kids, as though that was just ludicrous. But now I've made peace with my answers and others' responses. Maybe because I've made some minor, but significant break throughs recently and feel I've gotten a sense of my higher Self back again — or at the very least I'm on that current path — maybe it's just that I've grown confident and comfortable with my own personal goals over the years.

That having been said, I would be remiss if I didn't mention that just because I don't have the "usual" bullet points on my checklist for life, I'm not unwilling to experience them if one day, my path arrives there. But for now, I'm embracing the aspirations and callings I'm pulled toward ... and going with it.

That takes me into the heart of this post. It's kind of simplistic sounding, but considering how we are as a collective, mind and ego-driven society, it's one of the most difficult things to do I think — going with it.

Eckhart Tolle has taken me further into his book, delving into enlightenment, present awareness, inner peace ... and just what he calls "Being." He also mentions how as continue this transformation, we will notice our circumstances and who and what we attract will begin to change as well.

I was sitting at my favorite "haven" today, near the beach on a bench. It was cool out, but the sun blanketed me and the constant metronome-like waves cradled my spirit. I felt all my stress and cares dissolve instantly. I was just ... there.

It was then I noticed something ... the steady, rhythmic waves, the gentle breeze, the flag on the flagpole gently billowing in the wind, the trees swaying, the reeds and grass softly bending to and fro, the butterflies fluttering on the coattails of a sudden gust ... the birds flying and soaring with breeze ... everything was just being. Everything around me wasn't resisting anything, wasn't resisting what life was doing right at that moment. Those birds' instincts were to spread their wings and just soar while everything else went with the natural ebb and flow around it, too.

Yet humans and the minds that set us apart from everything else — from life sometimes — can't. We resist things all the time. We fight with ourselves, our own instincts, with others, with our circumstances, memories, anxieties, fears, with society's "expectations," pressures, insecurities, with change. We can't just be present and go with life. We can't just trust in the natural evolution of things, in the natural ebb and flow of the universe, in our inner selves. We often want to control everything. I've been just as guilty.

But today, that moment ... it's like it all clicked into place. Every word I've come across, feeling I've felt, every seemingly coincidental, yet random reference to this same notion fused together like the lyrics of a song that were suddenly serenading my very essence.

Sure, the things on my plate, the working parts were and are still there. But why should I fight them constantly? Why should I worry about the moving part that hasn't come to be just yet? There's no point. Why should I compare what is on my plate to others' and who am I or who is anyone else to say what I'm working on or aspiring to do doesn't have just as much "life" in it as anything else? Why shouldn't I just focus on what part of the goal process is in front of me right now, in the present and lay each stone down as I go?

Because my path, after all, will ebb and flow. All of ours will. But as other species, our own pets and the natural world around us showed me today, we're meant to enjoy the ride ... and go with it.

~C~

The Art of Being Gotten

Tying into recent thoughts and posts, I've been more attuned lately to those around me, in my life or just passing by, the current relationships and connections I have as well as those of the past ... pondering who and what is to come. But not in the sense of fixation, more like a gentle observation, of my mind, without judging it (a hard thing to do), how it works, what it does ... and then looking at the minds of those around me, recognizing the familiar patterns, waves, noise.

This extended to mulling over society, its "norms" and its expectations ... how society has become a giant blob that takes on a hundred forms a day, whether reflecting in the people in our lives, our relationships, friendships, our own reflection in the mirror ... our jobs, our everyday mediums. How all of it ties into our minds and perceptions, the ways we look at others, the ways we don't look at ourselves and vice versa.

I've touched on the concept of "being gotten" before. About the sacredness of that feeling, when someone "gets" you. If you have someone like this in your life, all I will say is, cherish them ... get them right back ... and accept them just as they are.

However, one piece of the puzzle I have not slid into place until now, is how that concept also hinges on us getting ourselves. Knowing ourselves, truly. And accepting what we know. In the last several years, I've been always looking externally for my identity ... and harshly criticizing myself or those around me for not being "it." Is there someone or several someones out there who "get me?" Yes, I've met some already and will meet more.

I just had to get myself.

So, what does that look like? What picture does being gotten and getting myself paint?  I'm not quite sure, but my guess is ... it's something like this ...

She laid on the den floor, examining the nails in the wood, pressing her hot cheek against its coolness. She could almost feel the vibration of a deep voice, rumbling through the floorboards, quivering against her eardrum. 

She breathed in the ink and paper scent, wafting ever so slightly across the room. She felt like a piece of play dough, poked and prodded, forced into one form or another. Her body ached from the contortions. But now, as she lay there, her feverish skin melted back into a formless puddle — neutral, reborn.

Lie here, say that, get up, don't be melodramatic, calm down, let go, cheer up, try this, do more of that, don't be selfish, come here … no wait, stay there, think this, don't think that, did you know … he's this, she's that, I'm this … you're that, we are, I swear, be on time, be sensitive, understand … have patience, love is … pay attention to me, to yourself, pain, I'm sorry, smile with me, trust me … see me, love me, listen to me, forget you, forget … remember.

The whispers thrummed through the veins in the wood. So much noise … static. Everyone always pressing in on themselves, on eachother … pure intentions lost. A societal cluster, building on itself, conformation. Her body began to cool against the wood. She heard the door close in the other room … footfalls against the thin runner along the hallway. The loose board near the doorway creaked against his weight.

She felt a tear escape the corner of her eye and hit the wood beneath her. Her lips slightly parting as she looked down, toward the doorway. She saw a silhouette lean against the frame, crossing arms, examining her. Examining, judging, labeling … mind dominance, microscopes, here's a flaw, there's one, too … she sees them everywhere as well … maybe it's really her standing there, or a new him, maybe its the entire societal cluster, taking on one form, no one is innocent, guilty.

But she has begun to quiet the noise. She has found silence amidst the coolness … bringing sanity to a maddening place.

Will he pull her up, make her come to him … put her on a pedestal and then point out her flaws … will she reciprocate, constantly searching for identity.

Her body takes shape, its bruises gone. She feels him walk over, bringing the scent of vanilla and honey with him … and stands over her. She once flinched, flinched under the lens. But she doesn't this time. A different energy surrounds them.

She feels him crouch down, move a piece of her hair from her eyes. He leans in, kisses her temple, then unfolds onto the floor next to her. He presses his cheek into the wood and meets her guarded eyes. They're the same eyes … they're his eyes, they're hers … they're theirs. He makes no movement at first, but then reaches behind and pulls out something. Suddenly, she feels the warmth of fabric cloak her body. She scrunches her forehead, holding back a dam of emotion brought on by relief.

He says nothing … silence … everything is silent for the first time ever.

And then … he simply reaches out his hand — bursting her dam.

~C~

The Mind, Friend or Foe?

"People think that the way you make a change is that you wait for it to feel natural or easy. But transformation comes from being willing to be uncomfortable or uncertain. You have to dive right into not knowing. It's hard at first, but the process gets easier over time." ~ Kelly McGonigal

 

So, to continue from my last post, but kind of in a different direction, the above paragraph I just came across today hit me hard because there's a lot of change going on around me and in me right now. It's not all bad, but it's not all easy either. And it IS pretty damn uncomfortable. Being a woman who has always focused on being "in control," I've realized I haven't been in control of much of anything. My MIND has been controlling ME. And the truth is, while it is a vital part of my existence, it's become the main thing driving my ship. Which means, I'm either constantly living in the past or constantly dreading/anticipating the future. I'm rarely in the present. 

 

I had a post not long ago describing my "creative process" and in that post I talk about how when I'm "in the moment," I experience every possible detail, layer, emotion, scent, touch, sound, sight going on around me at once. And nothing else matters. My mind is working in harmony with the rest of me and I create as a result ... whether I create peace within or positively impact another, whether I create a poem or short story, perhaps a sketch ... something that impacts people in other ways. But those experiences often lead to positive things within and without.

 

I just never knew how to sustain that state of being beyond those temporary moments until now. I'd always end up defaulting to my mind, to anxiety, depression, dissatisfaction ... to the past or the future and no longer in the present.

 

"See if you can catch yourself complaining in either speech or thought, about a situation you find yourself in, what other people do or say, your surroundings, your life situation, even the weather. To complain is always nonacceptance of what is. It invariably carries an unconscious negative charge. When you complain, you make yourself a victim. Leave the situation or accept it. All else is madness." ~ Eckhart Tolle

 

Madness ... that hit.

 

I think most of us do this at some point or another. Because we identify ourselves so deeply with our minds and not much else, we just tend to live in the past and future. And so, that creates a state of dissatisfaction ... we all know the notion, of always wanting more. Oh, he's doing this with his life, I should be doing that to. Oh, she's got this going on, I want that, too. I'm not good enough, I'm not where I should be, etc. and so on.

 

Kelly McGonigal, a psychologist, yoga teacher and longtime meditator wrote an article about this same exact concept of "present awareness." She talks about how neuroscientists have found that everyone has a "default state that the brain shifts into when we are not fully immersed in an activity."

 

This state is constantly thinking about the past or future, making judgments and categorizing and comparing things. It makes our brain a "suffering machine." And our minds (aka egos) thrive off that. I mean, think about it, if you force yourself to be IN the present, whether by "watching" what your mind is thinking about without judging it (I've noticed when I do this, my mind immediately stops and any anxiety I was feeling is gone) or by just forcing yourself to be fully in the moment (focusing on details, your breath, the smell of the air, the sounds around you, etc.), your mind is no longer "in control." This has been my issue most of my life ... this constant dread feeling or sadness from the past. It really is exhausting. 

 

So, Kelly mentions these mindfulness practices, like yoga and meditation, can take us temporarily out of that default state and into this present experiencing state. And the more you do this and monitor your mind as though it is some separate from you, the more you gain control over it and find more balance. 

 

What I liked about Eckhart's quote is the idea that when we express discontent or complain, we make ourselves victims. And either we can do something to change our current circumstances (or at least try to) or we can fully accept them, but either way, some action is better than none. I've noticed that when I start slipping into a funk and counteract that state with something productive or something I CAN control to change things or work toward changing things, I feel better ... more at peace. I think focusing on what you can do in the present moment to alleviate that dissatisfaction is key ... because you're focusing on the now and everything else will happen as it happens.

 

So, to sum things up ... I've basically realized that everything I've been reading for the last several years, quotes about living in the now, have FINALLY clicked. Guess I just needed something to bring it all together ... and it's crazy how it just kind of happens. All these pieces around me are finally clicking.

 

Because it's true, our lives are happening at this moment ... there is no future day when we're all of a sudden going to start "living." It's all right now and by taking it in as it ebbs and flows, we are being present.

 

Sure, this is all FAR easier said than done. And I'm still learning, messing up, reining it back in ... but that's all part of the present, too. It's not about success and failure (those are mental perspectives). It's about giving all I've got in each moment ... that's all the success I need.

 

Till next time ...

 

~C~

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.

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~

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~

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.

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~

Elemental Simplicity

The sculptor produces the beautiful statue by chipping away such parts of the marble block as are not needed  -- it is a process of elimination.  ~ Elbert Hubbard

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~