Monthly Archives: November 2019

Transition: walking the forest with no path

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I have had an exterior focus for eight years. The debt, the negative black energy of the penalty for making the same mistake repeatedly was heavy on me. I carried it on my back bent over but focused on the outcome which I was manifesting with each step, each new day with laundry, cleaning, taking care of guests. My dedication to my airbnb allowed me to free myself from the entity of past narratives. I came out of the dark of paying off, paying back, paying down the mistakes I had made.

The day I shut down my airbnb for an extended period of time, I flew North to be with my daughter and her family. There I sat quietly without an agenda and let us reacquaint ourselves. We sat together in the livingroom and I did not ask for, push for, yearn for more.

Arriving back in Kelowna, I came to the energy of NOT KNOWING. It was like a signpost on the outside of a town hidden under the fog. Welcome to NOT KNOWING. We don’t post information about churches, have giant symbolic representations of what you are to believe that we are.

flying above

When I was talking to a friend, I heard myself say, “The last incident in my life of empty time was when I was 16 and read books all summer on the lawn. I went swimming with the church group. But nothing was planned.”

And then I did something that I find works really efficiently to get around my ego fear. I can deek out from my protective personality, if I act quickly before the prison thoughts come in.

I signed up for braces to straighten my ever-increasingly collapsing teeth. I went in for laser treatment to remove the black hairs coming in. The manicure and pedicure I selected was more expensive, more skilled and longer-lasting than ever before in my life. My hair has been too dark for my skin for about five years. The beauty parlour I went to resulted in three hairdressers lifting my limp, dark hair consulting on the autopsy report. I am now Orange flame red with dark shadows underneath. I paid more than I ever have in my life before.

The sensation of walking out on the dead limb of a felled tree above a flowing river comes to mind. I hear, “You don’t deserve this. Money will run out. You should be more focused and working on a goal. You are trivializing yourself.”
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It even crossed my mind that the constant care the Kardashian Clan undergoes is actually work. Sitting there for hours letting someone attend to your long-neglected body is work.

Next, I decided to really press forward into the headwinds of this challenge. I sent for the anti-aging supplement NMN, bought Reverasol, started using the beauty products I had in my collection hidden away in a drawer in the attic.

Underneath the dissociation of discipline and obsessive focus on work, there lies a quietness I have not experienced in decades. I sleep deeply. I take time to plan meals that support my body. And as I fall asleep I think, “You made good choices today.”

Oh, let us be clear my habit of beating myself up for SOMETHING is still present. It is back there knocking on the closed door calling my name. But I have done so much work in my meditation practice and in my study that it is quite muted at this point.

Sometimes my “scout” mind runs ahead in order to protect me from attacks, on hands and knees reading the ground, sniffing the air for the presence of enemies. But I know I was born with the neurological pathways for anticipating the worst and I just say, “Thank you. But I have got this.”

Allowing Becoming

Next? I don’t know. I can say with calm assurance. I don’t know who I am becoming. It excites me.

Perception is Creation

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Since 2008 I have been writing about my work on my own perceptions. Mindfulness practice, being aware of what I think I am seeing and interceding to release the habitual ritual of reinstalling the same reality over and over, has taken me years of work.

I think in metaphors so at Christmas time I think of “reality” like a gingerbread dough that is rolled out flat on our counter. In an unseen split second, I push the cookie cutter into the dough and create the shape that I wield. My reality is a tree, or a snowman, or a snowflake. And then after I have cut away everything that is not what I realize as my truth I end up with the same shape again and again.

Life did not create the pattern of trees, or anxiety, or fear, or scacity. I did when I insisted the shape into the arising moment. Time is the element that I work within. This now I will be exactly as I have always been. This now I will carefully rearrange my situation exactly as it was in the past. And so I make an impression and push down hard. I cut away all that is what I do not believe. It is a process.

And when I yearn for more snowflakes and fewer trees I will give the casality to scarcity. Reality, the universe, the Greek Chorus of the massive shape of all is one called “them” made it happen.

The gifts that mindfulness practice have given me are multiple and unforseen. The challenge of watching my thoughts did not come about because I was seeking something. It was the result of my gift of creating tension, blame, loneliness, poverty, failed relationships.

When I was growing up there was a show called “Beat the Clock,” and I have come to understand that I have lived my life with the loud ticking of inevitable failure clicking in my ears. Hurry, grab it, make a list, do twenty-five things, prove yourself, measure yourself against everyone around you. Tick tick tick tick.

What I think I have come to understand is that I am the one who keeps recreating the perception that there is not enough: I am not enough; there is not enough money; there is not enough flow; there is not enough that I can possibly do in one life time so that others will see me as I want to be seen.
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Each day, each hour, each breath is everything. With mindfulness practice, I can sit calmly and not respond to the need to frenetically push the cookie cutter into the fabric of life to make something of it. Sometimes I just need to sit and see that the flat slab of what I think is reality is a misperception.

The distant view.

We are each in a frenetic race with our own minds. I am coming to see that existence is not about pushing as hard as we can to try to fill the hole inside. Constantly chasing a sense of being one of the anointed ones leaves us simply deepening our own sense of apprehended undeserving.

Running changes nothing.

The irony is that the harder I ran the more stuck in place I became.

Maybe there is no need for cookie cutters; or knowing; or pushing; or competition. Maybe there is just learning. Now that makes me feel really Christmasy.

The Interlude

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In my life there have been periods where I believed some new manifesting was underway and there was a sense of portentousness. At other periods I have experienced only a languidness like that experienced by an over-indulged southern Belle aesthetically trailing her vacuousness along a sumptuous love seat on the veranda. The surrounding circumstances like an oppressive heat created the most elegant nihilism of all. Moving here or there appeared to be pointless a simply staging for visual effect.

But the break, the disconnect, the hungry seeking for a yawning gap creates an interlude. It happens before something and it is a black line demarking the ending of a particular patterning in my life.

I am away from myself at the present time. I have closed the doors on my business for the upcoming months and flew up north to Houston, B.C. to spend time with my daughter and her family. I return to renew my connection to my daughter and get to know her three girls.
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Consciously displacing myself signals to me that this is the birth of new identity. After eight years of running an airbnb and being focused on paying off my debt, I am done.

What now? I have dreams. I have goals that have been put out of sight in the back shed. But most pervasive is the sense that this time, however long it extends, is a retreat from that which was.

When I stand up into the new energy, when I am driven by a passion again everything will be clear. But for now, the intermission allows me clarity. Not knowing is always the starting point.