Summer, although pretty much over, has been a great opportunity for me to focus on staying alert. Here are three questions I have conditioned myself to ask this summer:
1. WHERE IS THE SNAKE?
There's a rat snake living in our hen house. The snake and our chicken have developed a symbiotic relationship - nodding at each other as they pass the water trough. The snake eats the mice thus balancing the mice population and keeping the hen scratch in check. The snake also eats a few of the chicken eggs a week, a small pay-off for keeping the mice out of the garden and everywhere else.
All this is well and good. What gets me is how I usually walk in to check the water, hay, and feed. It's usually done without even thinking about it. Usually, my mind is elsewhere - focusing on the future - what do I need to do later? where I need to go? have I done everything I'm supposed to do? etc...
Since the snake moved in, I catch myself as I open the door and do a quick check-in - where am I? Where is the snake? If I don't see the snake before I go in, I am extra careful. I can feel my breath move through my body thus sensing any subtle movements more clearly that occur within the hen house.
Where is the snake? It is a common question that has often been referred to when considering people who are less than honest or loyal (e.g., "He's such a snake!) and looking out for those types of people and being wary of them. This time the question refers to not what is "out there." Instead, it's within me. Going into the hen house now I am aware of a shift in my consciousness not only focusing my mind on being aware but also feeling my whole body being alert.
In yoga there is a reference to what you learn "on the mat" and how to bring your experience "on the mat" to other areas of your life. For me the hen house is the same as the mat. When I'm in the hen house I remember how alert I can be when I want to be. I see my work as strengthening that alertness to occur in all facets and all moments of my life.
HOW HOT IS THE WATER?
The same idea can apply to this scenario. The river is a wonderful place to be this time of year until about noon. Then it can be warm, very warm, even uncomfortably warm. Dare I say -- hot tub warm -- which isn't a bad thing, unless it's 109 degrees and you're looking for relief. It's also the time of year and the right temperature for all the snakes that love the water. Thus in this scenario I also refer to question #1. (That's really not a problem. Dogs are very good at chasing snakes away.)
IS THERE ENOUGH ICE?
With 25 days in a row of well over 100 degree temperatures, ice has become the great equalizer. Ice brings everything back into balance on super-hot days. It makes me feel supported, even loved. Ice. Nourishing and nutritious, it shifts the physical body into neutral when the skin is pink, the hair is wet, and the breath is short - especially when I'm running from the snake!
Showing posts with label awareness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label awareness. Show all posts
Monday, August 23
Friday, May 14
Quashing the Kryptonite of Anxiety
Storm clouds loom to the Southeast and the Northwest of me this afternoon. It rained all morning. A hard soaking rain poured down onto the bulbs sprouting up in my yard. Runoff dove down the side of the cliff and raced toward the Brazos. Clouds to the South claim with their thunder that this storm may be repeating itself this afternoon. Yet for this moment there is a calming peace accompanied by the promise of a clear sky directly overhead.
This scene as a metaphor for life is not lost on me. To the contrary, I sit at my desk watching a female squirrel acrobatically taking sunflower seeds out of the bird feeder. She has an urgency about her - maybe it's the storm, maybe it's her knowing that I am here, that Nigel the Yorkie could come bursting out of the door at any moment to chase her; maybe she's still nursing the young squirrel standing on the sidewalk not quite knowing what to do.
It is in her urgency that I see myself, her manic addictive urgency to complete this task at whatever the cost, even at the cost of ill health or death. What I don't see in her Godlike animalness, is a thinking and rethinking about what she is doing -- whether or not she's doing the right thing, whether she has prioritized properly for the day. She systematically collects and eats, collects and eats stopping occasionally with keen awareness to check on her baby and look for intruders. Indeed, what before looked to me like urgency I now recognize in her as stalwart focus.
My question is: Does she anthropomorphize - Beatrix Potter style - when she gets home and force herself to feel a sense of relief about the day's accomplishments; or is she really just a little squirrel Buddha that recognizes the concept of accomplishment as simply another form of suffering? It is here that she laughs in my face with her squirrel cum George W. Bush snicker revealing that she doesn't bother with either of these over-thought-out ideas.
I bring all of this up because the other day in a moment of clarity - you know, when you realize that you are not being mindful and just allowing your thoughts to throw up all over you all through the day - I caught myself in a panic. I realized that I had created anxiety about my day and then acted as if checking off my todo list was going to save me and make me feel better thus bringing relief to my anxiety. That's the way the world works, right? That's what the old familiar voice was trying to tell me, "Check it off the list, then you'll feel better, then you'll be safe."
Well, I realized, I'm done with this rollercoaster - up, down, up, down, safe, not safe, relief, anxiety. I recognize my addiction to anxiety and how I create it in my daily life by setting up situations to feel angry, scared, and frustrated so that I can justify feeling relief. Anxiety has been this outlet for me for most of my life. Anxiety has been a distraction, an excuse to create confusion. It has been my kryptonite weakening my attentiveness to self-discipline, self-motivation, and commitment. It has blocked my clarity and hampered my judgment far too long.
Even though I no longer recognize anxiety as part of my identity, it still creeps in when I'm not paying attention. It is not me. It is not a part of this clear moment of cloudless blue skys. It is a part of the storm that whirls to my Southeast and Northwest.
Ms. Squirrel continues her task of pillaging all the bird seed in front of my eyes. She has taught me a simple lesson today about distractions and persistence - that with focus and awareness I can get the job, any job done even with the promise of dark clouds on the horizon.
This scene as a metaphor for life is not lost on me. To the contrary, I sit at my desk watching a female squirrel acrobatically taking sunflower seeds out of the bird feeder. She has an urgency about her - maybe it's the storm, maybe it's her knowing that I am here, that Nigel the Yorkie could come bursting out of the door at any moment to chase her; maybe she's still nursing the young squirrel standing on the sidewalk not quite knowing what to do.
It is in her urgency that I see myself, her manic addictive urgency to complete this task at whatever the cost, even at the cost of ill health or death. What I don't see in her Godlike animalness, is a thinking and rethinking about what she is doing -- whether or not she's doing the right thing, whether she has prioritized properly for the day. She systematically collects and eats, collects and eats stopping occasionally with keen awareness to check on her baby and look for intruders. Indeed, what before looked to me like urgency I now recognize in her as stalwart focus.
My question is: Does she anthropomorphize - Beatrix Potter style - when she gets home and force herself to feel a sense of relief about the day's accomplishments; or is she really just a little squirrel Buddha that recognizes the concept of accomplishment as simply another form of suffering? It is here that she laughs in my face with her squirrel cum George W. Bush snicker revealing that she doesn't bother with either of these over-thought-out ideas.
I bring all of this up because the other day in a moment of clarity - you know, when you realize that you are not being mindful and just allowing your thoughts to throw up all over you all through the day - I caught myself in a panic. I realized that I had created anxiety about my day and then acted as if checking off my todo list was going to save me and make me feel better thus bringing relief to my anxiety. That's the way the world works, right? That's what the old familiar voice was trying to tell me, "Check it off the list, then you'll feel better, then you'll be safe."
Well, I realized, I'm done with this rollercoaster - up, down, up, down, safe, not safe, relief, anxiety. I recognize my addiction to anxiety and how I create it in my daily life by setting up situations to feel angry, scared, and frustrated so that I can justify feeling relief. Anxiety has been this outlet for me for most of my life. Anxiety has been a distraction, an excuse to create confusion. It has been my kryptonite weakening my attentiveness to self-discipline, self-motivation, and commitment. It has blocked my clarity and hampered my judgment far too long.
Even though I no longer recognize anxiety as part of my identity, it still creeps in when I'm not paying attention. It is not me. It is not a part of this clear moment of cloudless blue skys. It is a part of the storm that whirls to my Southeast and Northwest.
Ms. Squirrel continues her task of pillaging all the bird seed in front of my eyes. She has taught me a simple lesson today about distractions and persistence - that with focus and awareness I can get the job, any job done even with the promise of dark clouds on the horizon.
Wednesday, July 29
Moving Mountains #45
Walking from my house to the ranch house the other day I almost tripped over a snake on the sidewalk in front of me. I never realized before how I walk looking straight down. I'm not sure if I do it all the time. I don't think I do it when I walk in the city. Here, though, I look straight down.
He was big, about four feet long, four and half, and thick, round. Jimmy and Ruby were there too. It was a water moccasin, a pit viper, a fat, lethargic (thank God) pit viper. Jimmy sent him back to his maker after saying a prayer over him. I covered Ruby's eyes. Such is the life of a farm girl.
What the snake taught me in the days since, is to keep my head up, to look out over the yard, the grass, past the trees. To not be so myopic, to see the bigger picture, to soak it all in.
Thank you scary snake.
I noticed that when my blinders are on and my vision is as small as a pea, I have a hard time mustering anything of myself for faith, there is just not enough room in my brain, my body does not have enough energy to support it. Yet, when I have the big view, it come in naturally. The big view welcomes faith automatically. I am very grateful to the snake for this lovely reminder.
He was big, about four feet long, four and half, and thick, round. Jimmy and Ruby were there too. It was a water moccasin, a pit viper, a fat, lethargic (thank God) pit viper. Jimmy sent him back to his maker after saying a prayer over him. I covered Ruby's eyes. Such is the life of a farm girl.
What the snake taught me in the days since, is to keep my head up, to look out over the yard, the grass, past the trees. To not be so myopic, to see the bigger picture, to soak it all in.
Thank you scary snake.
I noticed that when my blinders are on and my vision is as small as a pea, I have a hard time mustering anything of myself for faith, there is just not enough room in my brain, my body does not have enough energy to support it. Yet, when I have the big view, it come in naturally. The big view welcomes faith automatically. I am very grateful to the snake for this lovely reminder.
Saturday, June 20
Moving Mountains Day #6
It worked! I intuited and rejuvenated myself after a long day yesterday.
Here's how I did it:
When I went to bed at mid-night I said, "Six hours is all I need. I'm going to wake up at 6:25 AM and be ready for my day. I went through every step of my morning and planned out what I would need to do to be ready for my workshop today which started at 10:00 AM. The more details I included in my plan, the more precise I focused my energy, the more precise was the outcome. I felt aware, focused, and energized throughout the day.
Conclusion, having faith requires an investment. The more I opened to and believed in my power of rejuvenation, the more rejuvenated I felt. The more I focused on the details of the workshop, the more smoothly it ran. Awareness, just bringing your awareness to it is all it takes to make it happen. And then to ask. Ask for rejuvenation. That is enough to make it happen. Ask a tree, ask a star, it doesn't matter. Deep down in the heart of it all - a tree, a star, us -- it's all the same.
Focus, discipline, and awareness put the wheels of faith in motion for me this weekend. Discipline has always been such a bad word to me. Right along with the "C" word - consistency. Consistency and discipline are my new friends in the playground of life. With them I am gaining a stronger sense of self and greater confidence in my abilities and possibilities.
Here's how I did it:
When I went to bed at mid-night I said, "Six hours is all I need. I'm going to wake up at 6:25 AM and be ready for my day. I went through every step of my morning and planned out what I would need to do to be ready for my workshop today which started at 10:00 AM. The more details I included in my plan, the more precise I focused my energy, the more precise was the outcome. I felt aware, focused, and energized throughout the day.
Conclusion, having faith requires an investment. The more I opened to and believed in my power of rejuvenation, the more rejuvenated I felt. The more I focused on the details of the workshop, the more smoothly it ran. Awareness, just bringing your awareness to it is all it takes to make it happen. And then to ask. Ask for rejuvenation. That is enough to make it happen. Ask a tree, ask a star, it doesn't matter. Deep down in the heart of it all - a tree, a star, us -- it's all the same.
Focus, discipline, and awareness put the wheels of faith in motion for me this weekend. Discipline has always been such a bad word to me. Right along with the "C" word - consistency. Consistency and discipline are my new friends in the playground of life. With them I am gaining a stronger sense of self and greater confidence in my abilities and possibilities.
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