The Lessons: Life is Programmed Learning

Listening to Eckhart Tolle about turning loneliness into solitude last night helped settle my mind. It is so easy to stay on course, for me when all goes relatively well. But when turbulence comes into my life, I once again see how fragile the peace treaty is between my mind and my higher self.

seeking clarity

seeking clarity

My issues of being unloveable, of being abandoned, of being betrayed are like the bones of some great beast sticking out of an archeological dig. As soon as crises arise the skeletal framework is unearthed.

Finding beauty in darkness

Finding beauty in darkness

Recently, there has been great fear in my life about the health and safety of one I love deeply. This person is deeply frustrated and experiencing core issues that manifest as anger. The anger of others is not something I deal with easily.

My way of coping through out my life is that when I am faced with anger and rejection, I try harder. Shutting down my own feelings and acting like some circus performer going higher and higher off of my own grounding in order to please has never worked. I only endanger myself and eventually, comes the fall.

the circle of self discovery, anger, peace, pain, growth

the circle of self discovery, anger, pain, growth, peace

However, to observe this defacto coping mechanism activated again is kind of perversely fascinating. “How, ” I say to myself, “can you continue to not speak out for yourself? How can you go passive and shut down so thoroughly when you are frightened?”

super moon

It is what kept me alive under the age of four but is so patently inappropriate to the life of a 67 year old that it is like self defence with a nerf knife. Wearing an imaginary invisible cape that only I cannot see is a childish technique to avoid the pain of being alive. It just doesn’t work.

So how do I move through life being authentic? How do I learn to establish boundaries without being afraid it will hurt others around me? I so deeply want to learn this lesson and move onto whatever quagmire of delusional fog bog awaits me next in the programmed learning we call life lessons.

I just want to sit myself down and say, “Snap the f*&ck out of it!” Do you think that would work?

Tuesday: Don’t cry over spilled lemonade

Cameron and I are working ten to twelve hour days again. The effort to step back and watch self while moving through the day takes discipline. So often we keep running our ships on the shoals of the same lessons. The heaving of the hull back into the water so the journey can continue becomes so repetitive and frustrating that the desire to find new seas to explore grows.

When will I get through THIS lesson and on to the next. Chaos. Things not put away. Hastiness. Trying to varnish an image and having the blacks wash thin. Monetary. Struggle to bring down the debt load. It is so tiring to keep revisiting the same issues without apparent resolution.

Wisdom lies, so I am told, in being able to observe yourself as if you were a child learning to walk. How many times do you hit your head on the coffee table before you learn to negotiate past it unbruised? Now that is depressing. One doesn’t take ten years to learn that passage.

I sit here with sticky fingers because the morning began like a slow strike in a bowling alley. The ball of anger hit the pins and I could only watch them wearisomely begin the impact…one thing to another. It ended with my hitting a full glass of lemonade all over my “important papers” and keyboard. A lovely, sweet, sticky beginning to the day.

When could the cascading anger have been stopped? Before it began, after the first pin fell of its base, before the entire floor was cleared or splattered with lemony syrup?

Sitting outside trying to calm myself, I allowed myself to feel the difference between sitting at a computer screen which feels like a contraction, an enclosing of energy to the feelings of expansion and openness that come with sitting outside in the summer morning. It is still early enough that the “cute” birds are chirping and not the raw call of the crows or the magpies that punctuate the afternoon. The air is gentle, moving and light without carrying the weight of humidity. So much promise in a summer morning.

Spider Mums catch the light

And so… like the day. I begin anew.