Category Archives: thriving

Learning my boundaries: country of self

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I am constantly bumping into my limitations. There were days on end when the heat and smoke and working seven days a week were teaching me my capacity. How long can you go in a state of optimistic, accepting calm, woman? Hey. Let us find out.

When I stepped on a mass of dry twigs and three (so far that is the number that shot out of the resultant infection in my foot) shards were embedded; when my right eye stopped seeing clearly; when I found it difficult to breathe, I slid into a deep down knowing that the world was a crap lined cave of granite imprisonment. I forced myself to do the hours of work to prepare for guests every day but I settled for a grim existence.

stressors teach us

It makes me think of the experiences of my ancestors. The city is a fortress but it is surrounded by the invading hoards that have cordoned it off. No relief is in site. So for generations (on both familial trees) stoicism and indifferent detachment from one’s own suffering was the key to survival. I shift into “lock down” mode. I shift into disassociating mode.

Evidence of this arises frequently. After, I couldn’t see… I allowed three days to elapse before I got to the opthamologist.  Because the thought that something was happening to my vision was terrifying me, a person who is highly visually acute; an artist; a gardener, I buried it deep. Because my foot had an infection and stepping on it was painful, I just sat more. It was two weeks later that I showed it to my daughter and she suggested I actually soak it in epsom salts to encourage it to eject the intruding darts of lavender formed into weapons.

It was only when I sat with my counselor and explained some of the symptoms I was experiencing in my body that I heard her say, “Do you think you could be disassociation?”
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When the number and type of stressors I am experiencing ramps up, I go into lock down. I tell myself that the way out is to simply work harder on meditation and not see the events as negative. And then all hell breaks out. The bottom gear in my humanity is always blaming myself for my humanity.

no air

I have soaked my foot until all three pointy stick weapons were released by my body. I have begun to eat more salt to make sure my heart pumps blood to my eyes. I have once again made an effort to reach out to others to connect and not shut myself into my tower of protection.

And as I hang the laundry, once again, on the line I think about how my intention to build habits needs to be reinstalled… like failing software. Shut down the entire system. Then reboot and reinstall.

It is not like a war. The ground I am conquering is not myself. I am not a foreign country that needs harrowing and rebuilding. I am a garden. And weeding frequently, with love and conscious attention is working. Softly on the ground. Softly, softly on the ground.

Why Does It Keep Happening?

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I spend my mornings after I have prepared the house for guests seeking wisdom by listening to wonderful teacher. The lesson today is that we have established circuitry of thoughts and feelings.

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So the old story is actually embedded in our brains… the neurological patterns that limit our manner of process information comes from our childhood experiences.
The story of losing, anxiety, not enough time, not enough money, fear of damage… are all laid down much like roadways that we run upon.
It is why meditation, mindfulness and writing is so important in order to allow us to first see the old rutted highways.

all about the circuitry

Then like a wise developer of our own lives… we need to understand what the new pathway should look like for us to have a calm, satisfying and compassionate existence:
1. See it clearly. know how your being stuck is just a protective device left over from under the age of seven. The voice you hear in your head is “the protector” that tries to keep you from harm. But now, you are an adult not a child. You in the present are your own best guardian.
2. Be gentle with your stuckness, with that cycling through the same problem again and again. It is for a reason… it is so that you can learn and grow stronger.
3. Be very clear about how you intend to process information in the future:….I will see every moment as this moment and not as something to throw away.
4. Then begin to work with your body… how it works. Be very clear about only attempting baby steps for a new habit. All growth is through creating habits. Habits create new neurological pathways. Be very clear that what you are seeing is basically a lie (a left over story from your past) and set your intention to see the truth about life.
5. Now do the actions that are needed to build the new processing system in your brain without expectation of immediate success. Know it will work. You can change it.
First truth     1. We are each of us perfect. There is nothing wrong with you.
Second truth 2. Your connection to each experience creates your feelings about that experience.
Third truth    3. There is no failure. There is only learning. There is only growing.
Fourth truth  4. Every sadness, every anger, every sense of failure is not about now and never has been. Now…is an open field of exploration; of possibilities; of unlooked for joy.

rebuild the brain

We shut ourselves down… we shut the world down when we turn off the lights and then say it is dark. But we like the feeling. We like the victim. We like the self abuse because we are used to it. Society also rewards us when we sing the victim song. We get attention. People like to feed off of our sadness. They gather around.
We think being miserable somehow protects us from being really, really miserable.
So working on your circuitry and rebuilding your neurons… is the only way out.
It is not something you do after you have sacrificed the goat of hard work; after you have climbed the mountain of martyrdom; after you have gotten everyone in the village to bless you because you are so “nice”.
It is first. Working on your way of processing information is always the only real long term solution to old problems.
You have a relationship with your problems. It is an interaction. Look at them and ask: “why are you here?” “What are you trying to teach me?”

all in the brain

Be gentle with them and with yourself. And draw up a new development plan. Start working on your circuitry. You have everything to gain.

Where Am I, I?

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Since May time has been a bullet train to some outside force decided destination. I have the business to run. And being so much further up the mountain, I have the wisdom to know when the heat of summer arises I need to “cool my jets”.

The thirty minutes break in the afternoon laying under the strange Tardis looking free standing air conditioner is the only thing between me and the type of dementia that would send me clawing off all of my clothing and running into the street yelling, “I don’t understand. I don’t understand.”

Lately the unsolved technological problems have begun to be like a strange purple itchy erruption on my skin. There are so many spots of it and no matter how assiduously I ignore it, it is distracting and irritating.

So I put on my big girl panties, or my old lady drawers or some such metaphor meaning I covered up vulnerable areas carefully, and went after the problems.

I got my new cell phone to connect to my house wifi with the help of only two tech wizards. One referred me to the next one.

Now emboldened, I contacted a second IPower tech. The first one told me to do several things that simply flummoxed me.

I kindly told him, “I have reached my level of optimum frustration. I don’t understand anything you are saying. I am going to go away now.”

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(Notice how I snuck in my Red Bubble store in that paragraph).

So I was like a warrior with two heads in a pile and was ready to kill another enemy freaking frustration. I got the Ipower tech on the line and learned how to empty my cache and cookies. I felt renewed.

At that point my Paypal went down and I don’t even know how I managed to get CPR on that system to get it back on its feet.

Craving more power… I contacted a local video school to ask for a student to solve my WTF is happening when I load my photo booth video clipped to the wonderful intro a friend made for me. The two connected in IMovie.0.0.9 just smush the video blog and it looks like Cybil Shepherd’s scenes in Moonlighting. There is vaseline on the lense.

The sense that there are times of growth and times of maintenance is strong. Learning to attend to new challenges is not something I embrace. My strength is in the super self-discipline of doing what must be done. So, really, when I define myself by what I do or can do, it is erroneous.

I just never know. Very much. At all.

Control is Not Controlling

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As I sat at breakfast with a talented dancer and yoga teacher, I enjoyed her presence, the sun on the patio and not so much the big white dog licking my butt between the iron boundary fence.

seeing flow

I am so entwined with work, discipline and control issues that I have to be skilled and respectful. Removing some of the ties to my usual method of living has to be done with a surgeon’s care. Issues that came up when she asked me to breakfast were deeply set into my habit mind like some glistening stone.

She is a dancer and does not have a lot of money. She has to work hard, travel and squeeze out survival by being a gypsy hustler. Intentionally dismissing these thoughts I remembered that it is my wholeness that allows me to accept gifts, love, care and help.

Being in control is exhausting and ultimately cruel to others. Can I grow my spirit enough to simply rest in the present without making it some kind of reality game where in I keep track of who holds the greatest power? So often, I have paid for others, I have helped people to move from one place to another, I have given free coaching advice, given away clothing. And down down down in the deepest darkness I have come to realize it is a bribe. It is a “Please love me” bribe.

The greatest attachment wound I carry is that I believed for decades that I was not loveable. And with that metal flack jacket over my heart, I have protected myself from injury. Or so I thought.

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As she watched the home made cinnamon buns rising in the over to take with her on her journey to the south, she told me her truth.

“You never let anybody close to you. You never see people trying to help you. You are constantly proving you are strong, independent and have no time for trivialities like friendship.”

After she left, that observation stayed with me. I wasn’t able to heal or solve the problem at that time… but it was like a first injection of the cure. It took more experiences, more failures, more heartbreaks to come to a place where I understood that I alone was keeping the bitter plant of “not being loveable” alive where my heart should be.

With the constant flow of people through my house staying at my bed and breakfast, I have been exposed to much joy. I make the beds with the intention of providing a clean, calm healing space for people. But it is not an adrenaline driven attempt to compensate. It is sufficient to smooth down the sheets, to put a small bouquet of flowers on their night stand.

And I am able to let more energy in. I pick up the money and thank the person in my mind. I touch the little note the couple has left me and think of how beautiful they are. I put the present someone left me in front of my Buddha on my altar. And as I sit at breakfast with a beautiful, strong dance professional, I think that I am finally learning that trying to control, measure and monitor the exchange of love is a mugs’ game.

We are in an energy dance and sometimes I lift up others and sometimes they lift me up. The choreography is perfect.

Attachment attitude: What is it?

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As I work in a daily, rhythmic manner running the airbnb I notice the thought arising: too much. It is interesting to see how jaded my attitude is to work. It has been my saviour as I worked 70 hour weeks most of my life as a teacher.

Our family embraced labour as an anaesthetic. Gabor Mate explained in his recent on line class that those who have been abused have “itchy” limbs. They seek to move in order to dispelling the trapped energy.

pink pinwheel catches the wind

I spent year after year watching myself and assessing my relationship with work. Scarcity mind set created an adrenaline fuelled kind of desperation. If life is too difficult, then everything is too difficult. This next “thing” is a struggle.

“And let me prove it to you,” my ego said. “Keep moving. Keep in the struggle. You cannot remove the dancing shoes, Princess.”

I no longer feel as if I am falling through uninhabited universes one after the other alone when I am not doing the cortisol/adrenaline dance. The sense of yawning emptiness that will melt my very existence no longer horrifies me. I know how to see it and release it.

intentional sanctuary

The secret is in checking my body. These are the signs that I am not abusing action:

1. I feel as if there is enough time for everything
2. I am not competing in my head with my past, with others, with some societal projection of success.
3. I feel at home in my body. I feel the ground beneath my feet, the space around me upholding me, the in flow of new energy in a smooth and untroubling manner.

I have shifted from making a copious to do list, the kind that takes up two sheets in my journal, to just touching intention in the same gentle way I touch a new blooming rose. I feel its texture. I breathe in its smell. I see the beauty of it.

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close up beauty

And then at the end of the day, when I was coming off of work addiction I structured a transition.  I had to write a list of what I had done without the rigidity of me trying to survive anything, or block out anything.

What most surprised me is that I would create as many intentions while moving through the day, as I did when I sat and forced myself to task. What surprised me is I was elated to see that I could trust myself.

Digging my heels into a donkey was my old way of working. But I came to see I was not a stubborn mule. I was a race horse filled with joy to just be kicking up my heels. There did not need to be a whip, or a jerking on the reigns.

I wanted to move and explore and learn. And I have found a way to do that that is more organic and less fear drive.

So when I feel a tightness in my chest from working 7 days a week, when I feel the old violin sawing irritation music, I remind myself to sink into the senses.

As I make the beds after hanging the candy colored sheets wave on the line, I select which brilliant pillow cover to place against another. Everything is art. Everything is creating. Everything is play. And I am spreading love energy in my house, thinking of the guests that will sleep peacefully.

the beauty

Can I know where I am headed by being frightened of it? I am beginning to see how the anxiety has handicapped me, now I am calm and trusting. Where ever I am, I am supported. Where ever I am, regenerating energy surrounds me.

And if I am beyond my limits after making beds for 153 people in four months, there is always a Netflix Brooklyn 99 binge retreat available.

I know how to take care of myself, finally. And it took over 70 years of learning to get here. But it is pretty “Toit”.

Allowing the Day to Find Me

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I invite you to subscribe to my youtube channel. https://www.youtube.com/user/TheCovitch/videos

Often when I arise I hold a list in my head, I flirt with some goal I have been attracted to and then I wait. I start the day gently not forcing it to show me anything at all.

Outside my attic window, what is the shape, colour, temperature, temperament of the day showing itself to be?
I have learned to be gentle with myself.

When I awaken early, I curl back down under the blankets and have a memory of being four and just going back into the soft blur of the down duvet, the hazy light, the tenebrous sense of self. It is a luxuriousness, this unwinding of self.

Now, with all of the work I have done on my consciousness, I move from sleep to partially awake with the sense of safety. I am complete. I am protected. I am floating on the warm water of the buoyancy of the universe. Whatever guides, or spirits or angels or forces of fairies or loving dead that exist are around me.

Last night as I went to sleep I looked back into my life to take inventory of the spirit medicines that I had asked to help change my mind. The person who woke up screaming with nightmares every night and who lay in the crib, the bed waiting for violence somehow knew to turn to plants for a deep repair of the neurological pathways.

Knowing that all recollection is colored by the structures of the present, I hesitantly counted up my transformative experiences. And there were at least 28 times I allowed the journey to something greater to repair a very fragile, shattered sense of self.
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For eight years, I sat silence and meditation without seeking a crowding intimacy. I knew something without knowing it. I was reaching for something without seeing it. The broken boned, broken spirited person who suffered in the belief that suffering was the reality knew to go after something bigger.

As I went to sleep last night, I saw that I had been on this “mission impossible” since I left home at seventeen. I wanted to be stronger and I was strong enough to reach for that. I wanted to be more capable of love and I was loving enough to reach for that. I wanted to be open and honest with myself and with everyone else and I was trusting enough to reach for that.

And the result is a greater peace. The result is that I am more gentle with myself. Each morning I am reborn. Each morning I come into the world gently knowing that I cannot know what I am becoming.

I look back and I see the courage of my spirit. The many times that the pain was too big to endure, yet I persisted knowing that beyond the despair there was peace and that I was never alone. I am never alone.

Last Sunday, I did readings as a clear channel for 16 people. The ability to see their struggle, their pain, their wounding is clear for me. And what is also clear is what their shining core spirit is called to be. It is because of my journey that I can say to them, “Peace awaits you. Your purpose awaits you.” I know.

I have been there.

What next? Staying grounded.

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The Waking

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BY THEODORE ROETHKE
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.
I learn by going where I have to go.
We think by feeling. What is there to know?
I hear my being dance from ear to ear.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
Of those so close beside me, which are you?
God bless the Ground!   I shall walk softly there,
And learn by going where I have to go.
Light takes the Tree; but who can tell us how?
The lowly worm climbs up a winding stair;
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
Great Nature has another thing to do
To you and me; so take the lively air,
And, lovely, learn by going where to go.
This shaking keeps me steady. I should know.
What falls away is always. And is near.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I learn by going where I have to go.
XXX
My goal is to walk so softly on the ground. But there are times I stumble, swear, feel blinded by some fog created by my urge to keep myself safe and protected.
The tension between the urge to create, go big, just fucking DO something and the necessity to be careful, orderly, not to take risks or attract too much attention from the Eye of Sauron has pretty much been the back beat track of the movie of my life.
What my ego is constantly whispering to me is ,”Not good enough. Not enough effort. You could have been so much bigger than this version of yourself. Why did you waste your time, your focus, your energy, your day, your week, your life!”
I think of those heart-felt movies where in a marathon runner has his crippled little brother on his back.  He chooses to run with the weight of the destroyed relative throughout the race. At times, I see my ego that way. I just keep carrying him or her or it with me and sometimes the being is just too heavy for me to run the marathon with any spectacular results.
But that image and message, too, are from the ego weight creature I carry.
At present I have been evolving in the way I almost inevitably do. It seems to be my style. I am stoic and patient for a time with an issue and use my super human suppression skills to cloak the problem in a field of invisibility. And then I stumble onto the next plan hidden behind the bushes.
My neck has disintegrating discs which have radiated migraines, ear aches and jackhammer skull pain for decades. It has gradually gotten better as I build the strength in my body and learn to work on flexibility.
My digestion has been a mess since I witnessed the Paris Attacks on the street where I was staying in November.
My message to myself is highly nuanced: I am doing well. I am armoured and impervious.
I had only one flashback after seeing the blood and hearing the screams of those dying. I have had no nightmares at all. I congratulated myself for staying in a field of love during and after the attack. There was no hatred or personal fear arising.
But my body has had unpredictable purges since December. I am clearing. I am clearing unexpectedly, rather constantly.
So somewhere along the way, I decided to deal with the ignored messages from my body.
xxx
First I went to body talk and the reader said I was carrying massive amounts of pain but it was not my pain. It was pain from others that had lodged in my body. She placed her hands on my spine and released tension which I could feel leaving like water from a burst pipe. The flowing out of that which I had been holding was something palpable.
Next, I decided to go for physio. I had two treatments releasing some locked areas in my body around my neck. After the second treatment, I suffered barely endurable pain. And I am tough. I have prided myself on my ability to “take it.”
I felt as if my skull were being attacked with a jackhammer from inside, from my brain. I had a massive migraine, pain shooting up my neck and out of my ears and the constant presence of nausea. I awoke in so much simultaneous distress it was impossible to focus on any one area.
I allowed myself a sugary drink, took a tylenol 3 and decided to just drug myself asleep with gravol.
When I went back for my third treatment, the physio indicated  that unlocking knots in the body can allow for information to start flowing that has been repressed. On the right side of my neck is an area that refuses to let go, he informed me.
I pointed out that I had a shard of bone standing up on that side on the front of my shoulder.
He stepped back and looked concerned. He said that it was an indicator of a dislocated shoulder at some time in my past.
When I went home with the new information to add to the missing puzzle bits of my life, I sat with the idea that this happened when I was under the amnesia blanket of my blacked out childhood. I have protected myself by not remembering. I have allowed myself to move forward in a healthy manner by not “knowing” what happened to me.
What is behind the doors.

What is behind the doors.

So in the last four years I have been able to gather further evidence. A energy therapist told me of my broken cheek bone. A woman’s retreat presented the information that not only my father but my grandfather were dangerous to me. And now I own the information that my shoulder was dislocated and never reset properly.
When parents hide the damage to their children so that they will not be found guilty, so much becomes unvalidated experience.
What I have come to understand is that my journey has been about using my mind to reclaim my full presence. I studied. I read. I attended conferences. I went for counselling to Elizabeth Fry on and off for eight years. And then I let it rest.
connecting with spirit
Next I moved onto working with spirit. I found a group of Catholic nuns who worked with energy and it was while I was attending their support group the entire understanding came to me. I was attacked at 18 months on by those who should have been my protectors.
What I came to accept is that I was lucky to be alive.
The grief was mammoth. I cried almost steadily for three months. I had not know. I had not let myself see. I had not consciously “experienced” the attacks at all. But the suppression was not working in my life.
The spiritual work continued with the guidance of Gabor Mate in a retreat and through his books. My meditation practice became the anchoring center of my life. I began to be able to love and not hide how much others meant to me.
I sat with Peruvian Shamans and with a Black Foot Medicine man. And I read. I read everything about how the brain works, the patterning of DNA. I studied Buddhism, Tao, Hinduism and I opened myself up to the deep connection with spirit.
What I have done in the last three weeks is a result of my adventure. I worked first on knowing that I was determined to survive. Then I used my mind to understand on that first level. The spirit work was only possible because I intellectually understood how important it was to get beyond the mind.
Finally, reconnecting with the messages in my body is the final and most illuminating step. I can only allow those neurological connections to bring messages because I am strong enough now. I have worked out, used weights, established habits of nurture and strengthening my body so that I can actually see how strong I am. That has helped me tremendously.
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What happens next? Don’t ask me. I didn’t plan this journey. I just let it take me to where it will. It is only afterward that I can see how “on purpose” my path has been.
“What falls away is always, and is near.”
I no longer fear to be seen. I no longer fear the Eye of Sauron. The greatest evil is to not see who we are and why. The greatest evil is to not allow ourselves to grow by doing whatever it takes. And I wait for the next directives with a vast curiosity. Life is such an adventure.
The kiss that has awakened me from sleep is my own.

Exhaustion and Anxiety

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I am repeatedly grateful for the CBC and the information it brings into my little attic hideaway. This morning they featured a show about the book Exhaustion: A History.

 

 
The concept of exhaustion being a contemporary post-modern experience is one held far and wide in today’s culture. The exhaustion that takes contemporary focus is the Chronic form of psychological fatigue triggered by bio-chemicals in a fight or flight syndrome. Or that is what contemporary specialist believe it to be. So we buy into this definition.
However, Anna Katharina Schaffner, the author points out that the pervasiveness of weariness is nothing new.
Galen writes about it in antiquity. The Medieval period called it acidia or an excess of acid in the body which created a condition called melancholia. It was considered a sin and sloth was the result.
Hans Seyle who is the father of the research on stress and resultant depression was stressed himself when he could find nothing measurable about energy. He came to a standstill when he asked, “What is energy?” The only answer that has presented itself in the scientific field in Western science is the measure of calories.
What has been woven into the psyche of the modern cultural Akashi record belief is that there is ‘something out there that will steal our energy’.
The bottom line of the historical focus on the depletion of energy is, according to Schaffner, a belief in the waning of efficacy; a falling away of energy and vitality as we age.

But the real anxiety is about the approach of death.
So historically philosophers, medical scientists, social scientists, psychologists have danced around the changing presentation of exhaustion. For medieval times it was thought to be the humours; during the Victorian Era a blanket of lassitude was the result of invention, modernization and education of women.

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Certain periods in history allowed only leisure classes the luxury of exhaustion and depression. However, today the world wide sense that this is the first time, this is the worst time for exhaustion with a sense of personal powerlessness is in error.
The fear of diminishment has been a constant in Western Culture since the age of Antiquity.
A big difference between Western Culture and Eastern Culture is the concept of a mechanistic “battery of energy” that loses its charge. In contrast to Eastern belief that Prana or Qi are replenishable sources.

Grounding in order to grow

Grounding in order to grow

 

The person who is feeling a diminishment can go to a practitioner and reconnect with source. Or the individual can go to a movement/breath practice mode which revitalizes the body and mind.
For me, the most interesting concept in the interview is that each person; each decade; each cultural moment is so intensified that we lose perspective.
The issue of facing one’s death, of having a healthy supportive connection to one’s body and of knowing we are not unique means that we can release the victim mode. We can see how connected we are to all who are alive on the earth and to all who have lived.

Once we understand that, we are able to move in the world with more compassion for ourselves and for others.
Thank you, CBC.

The “savings” account.

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carrying shadowsI read in one of the many how to save your marriage books, while I was still hopeful, some interesting advice. (Obviously the methodology requires two so THAT didn’t work.) The coach-therapist suggested that the couple store up good feelings so that they could draw on them when it was necessary in times of stormy weather.
Coupled with my reading on discipline fatigue, I was thinking about designing a life strategy. As I did my daily five loads of laundry, hanging the purple sheet, I thought of how edgy and irritable I get when I stick to my check list, and work with a total focus on building new habits.
I kick like a four year old… “don’t want to”. The promise land of supportive habits is mapped out on my giant calendar check list pasted above my reading chair.
“But what happens when I am just plain tired of making myself do better, be better, push for bigger goals,” I thought as I hung the golden colored bed sheet.
It was then it hit me. I have a less than peaceful relationship with myself. There is tension between me, myself and I.

Basically, she is always dissatisfied and reaching for more. I make a plan… and the vast stretch of the day with undulating hours like some ocean or desert spreads before me. I am both overwhelmed and bored..
“What I need,” I advised myself, “what I need is more treasure in my treasure chest of good feelings.”
Quitting such habits may cause improvement in the viagra cialis erectile function of a male. Suffering from erectile failure in the bed? Well, a reliable medicine sildenafil viagra generico along with healthy diet can help us in improving our sex life to a great extent? So, let’s talk about them in detail now! List of Best treatment for premature ejaculation. 1. The physician would give you correct suggestion after examining your body and also suggest some precautions to take. generika levitra always in stock All in all once a student buy cipla cialis is an independent learner eventually, as it has little interface to offer between trainers and a student. Bingo, bazat. There it is. That could help my primary relationship.
Instead of only allowing myself a beggar’s hoard of joyous moments, what if I went after them with intention in order to help out when I was just so done.

Saving positive moments

Saving positive moments

“But not just indulgences, “I remind myself. “You need to stick to the habit building plan.

I stood back and looked at the purple, golden, yellow and hot pink sheets waving on the line. Beautiful. So simply beautiful. I start with that image. I start now.

Where Am I Now?

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Life for me has been such an experience of making progress, lurching forward and then falling back into old habits of thinking and action. Trying to be patient with the process is like everything else: Sometimes quite easy and at other times just a condemnation to some caves of Hell volcanic spewing in a limitless black pit.
Today, it was cooler which always causes a rise in my optimism. When it is 30 + Celsius I am like a Newfoundland dog locked in a room with no AC. I become dispirited, lacking the urge to run. I can push my self for a while in the morning and then I am just laid flat sweating out of the side of my face.

Cloud give relief

Cloud give relief

Always, my mind wants me to prove that I have been working toward my goals. Not one goal, six goals or nine goals. Too much, too fast gives me a high.
It is cooler today and so I can feel that there is something possible between the two walls of night. I awake and my thoughts turn to my goals again.
And then, and then comes the questioning: What is it that I am not asking?

 
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Questioning in a Circle
Like a small bore drill, what repetitions of digging into the hard wood knot of my life are going on? I want to bite into something. I want to see something become easy and reward me for the tenacity of holding on. I want to sink into this new place of keeping a grip, of holding out.
And so I ask: What is it that I am not asking? What is it that I am not seeing?
But, as always, as I walk my guests to their car, it is the mundane that calls me. It is the next thing that engages my taking action. I stand bare foot, bare faced in the garden and pull out weeds that have grown in the garden bed. I load the dishwasher. I strip the bed and begin the laundry.
I turn my mind away from the grandiose promises I have made to myself. Soothingly, I murmur, “Patience. Go back to intention, woman.”

What Path?
And as I piled up the weeds along the walk way, I pile up the yearning and the frustrations and the sense of being outside. I rip out the old stories of not deserving, of being somehow inherently wrong. I tear out the old, habitual feelings about who I am as I move through the world.
I am right here, standing with slightly earth colored bare feet on the ground. And this now, this now is who I am. The questions, ultimately, are irrelevant. The day is cool. Time will pass. And each breath fills me up. I trust that I am growing, that what I cannot see is moving toward me. The questions, ultimately, are irrelevant.