Signposts (Where I'm At)

 

On Monday, while standing in line at Target, I thought to myself:

What are my plans for myself this summer?

Usually I have travel plans or some kind of personal fulfillment project. But this year I've only thought of Jim's schedule and what needs to be done around here and getting a grip on some things around here that have been neglected too long.

No goals for exercise or art. Certainly no travel. My writing goal is already in place and has been rolling along quite fine.

I thought, well, I'm set, right? Maybe some yoga? Yes -- for sure--some yoga.

And I also thought of my book reading goals. How many years have I said "This summer I will finally read A Thousand Years of Solitude?" I’m determined once again. Every time I finally read a long neglected classic, it is always rewarding.

I mused on writing about this, so I went to my coloring app library and found this graphic I had started to color weeks ago and then left undone.

It appears it has been sitting there waiting for me, because I realized these signposts are all I need to know.

Happiness -- My husband is here and I have more time with him.

Pleasure -- Music, good food, relaxation, time to take a break from teaching

Health -- I keep up with stretches, but I do need to walk more and go to yoga. And I keep reminding myself not to stress about things I can't control.

Gladness -- I have friends. I have love.

Wellness -- As crazy as things could be, I feel stable and balanced.

Wealthiness -- We are looking to start selling some of our collections.

Wonderful & Beautiful -- I will keep looking at life with wonder, and notice beauty whenever and wherever I can.

Share -- What I do here every day!

And let's not forget the three birds at the top of the signposts -- after all, don't they stand for "Every little thing is gonna be alright"?

The question my mind brought forward in a vulnerable moment was once again the part of me that is trying to find fault with my life, rather than just being one with it. It's challenging me to be happy with where I am. The signposts reminded me to be grateful for what I have. What else do I need?

Alchemy

 Inspired by these words from Rumi’s poem “Undressing”:

Learn the alchemy true human beings

know: the moment you accept what

troubles you’ve been given, the door

will open.

Amid the every day

Love nestles in

Claiming a primary place

Heralding my heart to trust

Even when difficulty arises

My mind returns to oneness

“Yes” is the answer to everything 

Don’t Waste Your Life (On Saying Yes, Part 2)

On Saturday morning I went for my biweekly massage. While I was there, I realized a couple of things, one being that I need to reread Thich Nhat Hanh's book Being Peace. I first read this in 1992, bit by bit, and have returned to parts of it many times. This time I knew I had to read all the way through.

 

After I returned home, I got right on it. It wasn't long before I wrote this in my journal:

 

I have already started reading and my eyes are opening. 

I'm realizing just how much I've let the current circumstances give me "permission" to be a bitch.

I knew it felt wrong. But it was easier.

Thay (his nickname) suggests doing "gathas" -- four lines that help you focus. Here is an example:

Breathing in, I calm my body.

Breathing out, I smile.

Dwelling in the present moment

I know this is a wonderful moment.

Thay is very big on smiling, focusing on breath, and being aware of suffering. 

It is the last one that has had the most impact on me. 

This is the thing I turn away from consistently. I ignore it and focus on other things. But it is always there and by the time I finished the book, I knew it was the thing I've been missing for a very long time.

I am now practicing my oneness with suffering--my own and others. I now can see more clearly how much impact this has on me, and how healing it can be. It brings peace.

Thay mentions that in every Buddhist monastery they have an 8 line poem posted. It ends with the words "Don't waste your life." I cannot waste this opportunity for growth.

 

*

Sunday morning I read Mary Oliver's essay on Poe, entitled "The Bright Eyes of Eleanora: 

Poe's Dream of Recapturing the Impossible."

My first thought with the word "impossible" is that it is possible to ignore the suffering, but not possible to escape it. On page 91, Mary expresses this perfectly in relation to Poe:

We do not think of it every day, but we will never forget it: the beloved shall grow old, or ill, and be taken away finally. No matter how ferociously we fight, how tenderly we love, how bitterly we argue, how persuasively we berate the universe, how cunningly we hide, this is what shall happen. In the wide circles of timelessness, everything material and temporal will fail, including the manifestation of the beloved. In this universe we are given two gifts: the ability to love, and the ability to ask questions. Which are, at the same time, the fires that warm us and scorch us. This is Poe's real story. As it is ours. And this is why we honor him, why we are fascinated far past the simple narratives. 

He writes about our own inescapable destiny.

Wow.

If that doesn't make you cry, nothing will!

 

*

This connected back to reading Being Peace. The suffering is around us. Impermanence is the law. 

We share an inescapable destiny. We can be in the moment. Smile. Breathe. Love.

We can be One.

And this was the takeaway -- one with everything. 

One with the minor irritations.

One with nature.

One with fear.

One with joy.

One with worry.

One with the Sacred.

 

I am nature and nature is me.

I am joy and joy is me.

I am the universe and the universe is me.

 

No matter what comes up, I apply this non-duality.

 

I am cleaning the pan. The pan is cleaning me.

I am listening to music. The music is listening to me.

I am my orchid. The orchid is me.

 

 I have to record this today so I may refer right back to it at any time. 

*

Mary ends her essay on Poe saying his words and valor are all he had. She ends by referring to a character in one of his stories, rushing forward and battering hopelessly against incomprehensibly, 

with frail fists, with "the wild courage of despair."

I feel for Poe and his characters.

But I don't want that to be me.

I've had enough of that already.

So I will live these words from Thay instead: