Life continues to prevail

It's now been 7 weeks since the move and the dust is just beginning to settle.  Without going into all the gory details, Life has had it's way with me.  Oh how I envisioned the flow and glow of moving back to my condo.  Flow it did not.  And the only glow was my anger - no, make that rage - at the state of my home when the tenants moved out.  What I thought would be a simple paint and shampoo the carpet job, turned into a major (and expensive) renovation.  Oh my.  If my sister hadn't been there with me every step of the way, I'd be writing this from a padded room somewhere.  My sister is an amazing woman and I am forever grateful for her presence in my life.

Then, after being here a mere 10 days, I learn that my beloved 13 year old Westie, Arno, has cancer.  Since he has Westie Lung (aka pulmonary fibrosis), he isn't a candidate for surgery unless I don't mind him dying on the table.  After being shocked out of denial about his age and life expectancy, I'm accepting that I have precious few days left with him.  Once again, if my sister hadn't been here.......you get the picture.  Not a happy time.  

There's also been an assortment of financial and legal issues that demanded attention.  And today the people upstairs started a major renovation project which involves a new kitchen, bathroom and floors. Talk about noise.  I could hear the demolition with earplugs AND my Bose noise cancelling headphones on.  Living in a condo was never my dream, but apparently it's an experience Life wants because It's definitely getting the full treatment!

At times I've felt under siege by Life, just waiting like a sitting duck for yet another shoe to drop.  Is this really what my life is going to be like - dealing with one bullshit problem after another?  Am I cursed?  Is my condo cursed?  Does God hate me?  Am I being punished for something?  What the f--- kind of karma am I clearing????? 

You can't believe the deep dark places my mind has been.  Again, I am so incredibly blessed to have an amazing sister who was able to stay with me long past the date she was due to fly home (she left last Wednesday). Without her I don't want to imagine the shape I'd be in.  For whatever reason, at this particular time, I needed to learn (again) that Life is very much in control.  As I've said before, I'm a slow, stubborn, dense Soul and don't learn these lessons easily.  I could use a 12-Step program for control freaks where the first step is "we admitted we were powerless over Life - that our lives had become unmanageable".   What I've learned is that when I stop trying to control, things become manageable.  When I truly accept whatever happens and am absolutely okay with it, peace and bliss result.  Resist what is and hell is but a moment away. 

At the moment, however, I'm in a surrendered state. Any inkling I might have had of being even the slightest bit "on top of things" or "in charge" was wiped cleaned. I have no idea what's next.  There's paperwork, organizing, more clutter clearing, taking care of Arno, taking care of me, and some nice things to do like re-connect with friends and maybe take a quilting class.  Where it will all lead is anyone's guess.  Life has clearly demonstrated I'm simply along for the ride.  So, my hands are off the steering wheel, I've moved over to the passenger seat, and at this point am not even looking at the map.

No need.  Life is going where It's going without my help. The big question is, can I relax and enjoy the ride?  Stay tuned.


     

 

Life Gets Its Way

I received irrefutable evidence on Thurs. that the charming country cottage I rent is making me sick. Very sick.  And since I am now in the flow of Life and in harmony with What Is, I am moving - immediately - back to my condo where my health improved just before moving here. The condo is in a bustling suburb and high-tech business corridor. But since it now matters if I get well and I'm willing to do whatever it takes to get that way - even leave the peace, beauty and spaciousness of the country, my huge fenced in backyard filled with vegetable and flower gardens, and the horses, butterflies, bees, frogs, dragonflies and birds I so adore.  Until recently, I was so depressed and defeated I didn't care about anything - including whether or not I had an ounce of energy to do a thing, and sadly, whether I lived or died (except I didn't want to leave my dogs).  I saw no reason whatsoever for my existence (again, except for my dogs) .  What a happy day it is that I actually look forward to waking up in the morning and don't want to get tired and go to bed.  Never thought this was possible, despite reading zillions of self-help books that promised it was.

Why the shift? My deeply wounded parts are healing through Internal Family Systems therapy, which frees my "system" to engage authentically with life.  I am learning, kicking and screaming all the way, that LIFE lives us.  Yes, I've been a dense, willful, stubborn Soul believing I could do it my way. The truth is, Life gets it's way, one way or another. I got a loud, unmistakable "call" to move closer in 13 months ago, but have been resisting it logically and persistently since.  Life is finally getting it's way by scaring the sh#%t out of me with the fragility of my declining health. I'm listening to an enlightening CD called True Manifesting by Adyashanti, my favorite spiritual teacher.  He talks about how Life really works and it's perfect for anyone ready to live a harmonious existence.  In saying YES to what Life wants as he suggests - in this case moving back to the hustle and bustle of life - things are flowing easily and gracefully.  There are some hoops to jump through, but so far it's been fun to watch how the process unfolds. 

In the spirit of trusting my bliss (which is one of Life's more gentle ways of guiding us), the path is already appearing to fulfill the country, nature, and gardening needs that are part of my Soul.  Then while journaling this morning I made a list of 32 fun things I can do after the move that are either in walking distance or a short drive away.  And that's just what I know about right now.  Talk about bliss!

I had been praying for grace, ease and abundance.      

Writing - Part 2

After writing the post last night, I read chapter 3 in Brenda Ueland's book If You Want To Write.  In it she talks about some of the motivations behind writing that leave it empty, dry and arduous.  One of those, which has been running in me, is wanting the writing to be good, and to then make a good impression on the readers. There are other motivations at work too, such as the love of writing and moving past my fear of putting it out into the world - yikes!  But, being an over-achieving perfectionist all my life, I most want to be good, a success, and I definitely DON'T want to make a fool of myself by putting something out there that I don't realize totally sucks. 

As a result, when I've been writing these posts, I labor over every word and it takes forever.  Hoping that whoever reads it will think I'm really smart and witty, wise and courageous.  Give me a break.  First of all, as far as I know, only 2-3 people read this, and they are close friends who already love me.  No need to impress them.  But more to the point: old habits die hard. The need to get an A+ so that my teacher, mom, dad and anyone else who knows me will accept and love me still operates in the most subtle, and sometimes not-so-subtle ways.  I want to live from my heart and follow my bliss, not live in the unrelenting search for love and approval.  It led me to do some really cool things and to accomplish a fair amount, but my heart turned up empty and unfulfilled and my body sick and disabled. 

It is time for a different approach to life and to writing.  I've now spent about 10-15 minutes writing this.  I'll go back and edit for obvious grammatical faux pas, and post it.  Now that takes courage!

Writing

I am beginning to wonder if I really want to write this blog.  The days I write a post, I don't write what I really want to write - and that's the novel.  I'm right at the beginning and sort of lost as to how to be proceed, and it feels like I would be better off spending all my writing energy on that, instead of this.  I procrastinate enough already, I don't need a writing reason to not write.  They - the writing experts - say that anytime you're writing, it's good that you're writing.  That writers write. And that sometimes when you're not working directly on your Big Project, you're still working on it because the creative juices are flowing and it's percolating and formulating below the surface.  I know that's true for me when I'm cooking, sewing or gardening - especially if I've just been contemplating the next plot twist or imagining the details of the characters.  So we'll see how it works if I'm also writing a post here.  If you don't hear from me for a while - this is probably why.  I am 1000% committed to writing - being a writer - to telling stories and expressing what wants to come out.  So one way or another - I WILL be writing!   

Dharma, Courage and Bliss

I always resonated with the perennial Eastern philosophies such as Buddhism, Hinduism, and Jainism even though I was never a serious student of them.  One of the teachings I did study but could never quite get for myself, was the question of my life’s dharma, also translated as purpose or truth.  People also refer to this as the Soul’s purpose, or the reason one incarnates during a particular lifetime.  A big question, and one I started asking when I was 5 years old.

Last week put an end to this lifelong quest when my dharma revealed itself quite dramatically.  I had signed up for a 3-day certification class on Leading Organizational Transitions.  My thinking went something like this:  “I want to be a writer.  But writers don’t make money for years, if ever, so I’ll need a way to support myself once I’m healthy and off disability.  I can’t go back into high tech marketing because it almost killed me.  I liked change management when I went to Georgetown, so I’ll go back and study that some more.” 

Seems like a reasonable plan. I’ve picked something I don’t hate and can hopefully make enough money to support myself in 2-3 days a week, allowing me to write the rest of the time.  The only problem is, this strategy was born out of fear.  My intuition told me that my body wasn’t ready for a 3 day class involving a hellish commute from the suburbs to downtown Washington DC.  I did it anyway, believing I could push myself like in the good old days.  After all, it’s mind over matter, right?  Our thoughts control our destiny and my mind is strong (and willful, stubborn and downright dense at times).  I can do this.  I need this. It’s just for 3 days.  How bad could it be?

Pretty bad. By the evening of the second day the friend I was staying with had to call 911 to take me to the ER.  I won’t go into all the particulars since it was a much less than pleasant experience.  Just believe me when I say that since high school, my stomach has provided excellent feedback about the state of affairs in my life, and it did its job brilliantly on Wednesday night.  It was screaming so loud it needed multiple doses of morphine to calm down. Needless to say, I didn’t finish the class.

Besides being reminded – AGAIN – that my body isn’t simply a vehicle to carry my head around, I saw how strong survival fear still runs.  After all I’ve gone through and let go of, the need for security can still land me in the ER.   

There are so many lessons to absorb: humility, listening to my body, being in the natural flow and rhythm of my life, asking for and receiving help, gratitude, and slowing down, among others.  As profound as these are, receiving confirmation on my Soul’s purpose is the greatest gift.  I now know my dharma is to trust and follow my bliss – no matter what.  In the face of survival fears, uncertainty of where I’m headed and how I’ll get there, self-doubt that I’ll have what it takes to be a good writer or anything else for that matter, anguish over the state of my health and when it will improve, and the loneliness and emptiness of being suspended in time and space. 

I am to do it anyway.  I am to have courage.   

Solitude and Silence

Almost 2 months since my last post and much has transpired.  From the surface of things, you'd not believe that all I want to do is write.  What you don't see, because I don't like to admit it, is how crazily perfectionistic and critical I am of myself, and how those particular traits keep me hopelessly stuck.  But here I am, vowing to write and publish anyway - despite the possibility that some people could read 3 words of what I've written and throw up all over them.  I am told that if I am motivated to write it, there are people who will want and need to read it.

So here we go....

After wonderfully heart-warming visits from my sister and parents, life has settled down. The garden is planted, the sewing room is ready and waiting, the kitchen is as organized for cooking as it's going to be, the fix-it type projects around the house are complete, closets and cabinets are cleared,  my health is once again on a path of improvement after a major setback, and I am increasingly comfortable with where I live - having reached a new level of acceptance of the apparent fact that these are not my people and I must drive 45 minutes or more to connect with like-minded folks. I am, of course, completely open to meeting like-minded folks out here, and there are still things I can try to do just that.  It feels good, however, to not be constantly online frantically looking for a new close-in place to live, even though I've had to budget an extra $200 a month for gas in order to maintain my sanity. 

That's okay.  The solitude is beginning to feel blissful again, like it did when I first moved to the country almost 2 years ago.  Since I am always where I am supposed to be, I can just relax into the present moment and simply be where I am. Sounds simplistic and oh so elementary on the evolutionary scale of Consciousness.  But there it is. The solitude and silence has put a spotlight on how incredibly restless I am and always have been - either jumping ahead to imagine, strategize and plan a fantasy future, or lamenting the past and all the things I shoulda, coulda  woulda done if only.  And of course with restlessness comes a complete lack of gratitude and acceptance of what is.  Nothing is ever enough.  Ever.  How can one relax and enjoy life with that type of mental tyranny running 24/7?  Impossible. 

I now know from the Internal Family Systems model of therapy that this restless part is trying to protect me from a deep well of hurt and pain experienced as a child.   This very busy protector, as well as other protectors, are just doing their jobs, even though it results in less than ideal consequences. Needless to say, it is crystal clear that part of my job right now, dare I say the most important, is to heal what is being protected. Without this healing, there will be no trusting or following any bliss anytime, despite my most heroic efforts.  And since I am always where I am suppose to be, there is no better way to do this deep healing work than living without distractions and social obligations.  In other words, in solitude and silence. 

So thank you dear, adorable, remote country cottage for providing the exact environment I need to heal on all levels - physical, emotional, mental, spiritual and creative.

I want to leave you with a poem by David Whyte that has stayed with me since first hearing it years ago. I am struck that, as much as I don't want to still be in the dark and alone phase of this major life transition, that is indeed where I still am.  This poem gives me great comfort and hope.  May it do the same for you.
 

When your eyes are tired, the world is tired also.

When your vision is gone, no part of the world can find you.

It’s time to go into the dark where the night has eyes to recognize its own.

There you can be sure you are not beyond love.

The dark will be your home tonight.  The night will give you a horizon further than you can see.

You must learn one thing.  The world was made to be free in.

Give up all the other worlds except the one to which you belong.

Sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet confinement of your aloneness to find that

anything or anyone that does not bring you alive is too small for you.

~David Whyte

 




 





 

Update

Well, I've been busy....following my bliss of course. Amazing what can happen.  It's now Week 4 of The Artist's Way and I finally admitted that all I truly, deeply, passionately want to do in this life is write.  But wait, there's more. I:  Started phasing into a new and radically healthy way of eating which will consist of mostly raw food.  Know where I want to live. Found a gym and am joining this week.  Know how I want to support myself while my writing life ramps up.  Started and have made progress on MAJOR spring cleaning.  Made a new friend who lives 5 minutes from me.  Oh, and started on the novel that came to me unbidden one day last summer while stepping out of my car.  Almost forgot to mention that one.

Wow.  Didn't realize how much had happened.  It might not seem like much to you movers and shakers, but after being so stuck for so long, it's more than a minor miracle that the energy shifted to such an extent.  Julia Cameron (author of The Artist's Way) promises surprising things will happen and synchronicities abound once you embrace your creativity and begin living true to who you really are, aka, when you follow your bliss.  

Have to say I'm a bit giddy with the possibility of how this lifetime could unfold.  What might actually be possible, as I write these words at 11:11pm.  The portal is most definitely opening.....and I'm stepping through it.