We've moved!

Hi all!

Just a friendly reminder that Seeker & Sage has a new home:

seekerandsage.com

 If you click on the link below it will take you straight there.

http://www.seekerandsage.com/

And remember to subscribe using the Follow via email box on the right side of the Home Page if you want my posts to be delivered to your inbox.

I look forward to your visits, Gena xx

We are one!

This is quite a significant post for me - not only is it my 50th, a milestone I am proud to have reached, it is also Seeker & Sage's birthday!

I love birthdays, and not just for the cake and presents! They give us the chance to acknowledge where we are on our journey. We can pause, look back and see how far we've come, look around and appreciate all that we have created, and look forward to our hopes and dreams being realised.

One year ago today, on the 21st of April 2014, after months of deliberation and uncertainty I took the leap and wrote my first post for this blog. And I've never been the same since.

I know that sounds dramatic, but it's true. 

Seeker & Sage has shown me how much I love to write, how much I yearn to create and how much I want to share. And the learnings... sigh - it's been huge! Week after week the seeker would do what she does best - search for answers and understanding as a way of dealing with life's difficulties, always looking for the lesson so that I could grow in some way.

And I have grown. But it's more about expansion than progress. As I sit here this morning, pondering this, my 50th post, I know that that's what matters most. Yes, there's been a lot of lessons on letting go this past year, but I think the biggest lesson by far, the one that undoes a lifetime of striving for perfection, is that growth is about expansion - it's about becoming more of who we are.

Speaking of, I have been working on a new blog site, one that reflects this expansion and the growth that will continue as life unfolds.  So not only is this my first birthday, it's my last post at this address! I am very excited to announce that from today, we live at seekerandsage.com

I hope you find this new home an enjoyable place to dwell. My weekly post-writing will continue (sorry for the gap between these last posts. I've been busy focusing on the new site - thanks Step and the team at Green Graphics - I love it! ) but you will also find quotes and books and information about Note to Self, the card set I published in 2009. It's early days, but my aim is for the blog space to evolve as I do.

And remember, if you want an email to deliver the posts as I publish them, then please submit your details to the Follow Via Email box on the right-hand-side of the blog. 

It's been an absolute pleasure sharing with you so far. I think what keeps me going is that we are one - beyond our unique circumstances and personalities we share the experience of being human. 

And every time I sit down to write a post I am reminded that we are all in this together. 

And that makes all the difference.

Thank you all for your patience, support and encouragement - and for just being there. With love, G.

PS   To go to my new home for Seeker & Sage
                       just click here!

The writing's on the dirt

I can't believe what just happened.

So I'm writing about it as soon as is possible.

I've had a symptom flare up. It's been gradual - it started Monday morning and hit it's peak this afternoon. It is felt physically as an ongoing abdominal discomfort, so its quite contained but its affect on the rest of me is far-reaching - other bodily systems and functions are altered and then my emotional and mental state follow suit.

I have been here many times over the past eight years.

At one point it was daily for months, which turned into years. The good news is, I have improved - this symptomatic situation has become less and less frequent, but it still strikes too often and when it does the whole of my world looks dim; helplessness settles in as we have not yet found a way to relieve it, nor prevent it from happening in the first place.

So this afternoon I found myself in familiar territory - frustrated and despairing over not being able to decipher the trigger, my hope of a different future disappearing after very recently being quite optimistic about the positive changes that were occurring.

Not knowing what else to do, I decided to pray for help. While chopping the veggies for tea I pleaded with the Heavens above to show me what I needed to do or what I needed to know to get better. I then got on with my evening - cook dinner, hang washing, taxi a child, walk the dog.

I didn't really have the energy to walk, but I knew I needed the fresh air and the forest.

At a much slower than usual pace Harvey and I set off through the bush. My mood had hit its typical low, my mind wondering what, when, why, how? One minute Harvey was trotting along quite happily beside me, the next an abrupt stop and he was just behind me - pausing for one of his many wees no doubt. I nearly didn't turn back to look as he makes regular stops throughout our walks, but this stop went on for longer than normal.  I twisted around to check on him, and there it was.

I still can't really believe it, yet I know from experience that the universe works in wonderful and mysterious ways. This is what I saw...exactly as I saw it. And I didn't pass anyone, nor did anyone I know know I was walking through the bush at 7:04pm tonight.

I stood dumbstruck for a few long seconds. Then I cried. And then the laughter came.

I had just asked you-know-who for help and I reckon this was my answer.

Write. From the heart. Write. Love writing. Love sharing. Write. Write till you think there are no words left to write and then write some more. Write the pain away. Write the sadness away. Write it all down - anything and everything that might help - the blog, the private journals, the thesis, write it all!

I mean seriously, what are the chances?

If Harvey hadn't stopped there to wee I would've missed it. And you know what, I've been witness to this kind of uncanny synchronistic stuff too many times to be any kind of skeptic. So I have taken that leaf and pen perfectly positioned in the dirt as gospel.

As I sit here happily tapping away, I know I don't need to wonder anymore about my telos (see yesterday's post). I don't know what the words will bring, nor what words will come. I don't know when or how or even if my symptoms will clear as a result. I just know I have to write, from my heart, as much and as often as I can and be open to the healing it might bring.

The search continues

This week's post arrived on my doorstep yesterday afternoon.

I'd been wanting to write for Seeker & Sage for days but the topic was yet to appear, and now I know why.

This book is one of many that I ordered last week to help me with my Masters Thesis. Actually, it was another book by this author I was chasing but when I Googled psychologist James Hillman and saw his repertoire of inspiring books lined up across the screen, the Seeker in me couldn't help but want to read and own a book titled, The Souls's Code: In search of Character and Calling.

When you buy books on-line you can never be sure when they're going to show up, nor which will come first. So yesterday's delivery was a delightful surprise.

I couldn't wait to delve into it but kids and projects and errands and dog grooming and dinner left me no chance to do what I so desperately wanted to do - curl up on the couch and start soaking in the words from this number one New York Times Bestseller. Ha...I'd never even heard of it till last week, and now I was in love with it before I even turned page one!

Incidentally when I get a new book in the mail the first thing I do is check to see if the seller has 'randomly' placed a receipt or bookmark among the pages. If so, I take it as a sign. I open the book to the designated marking and see what it has in store for me. Usually it is something that sends me into goosebumps - something I need to know.

But not this time. Not this book. So I took matters into my own hands. I held the book and thumbed the furry outer edge of the pages slowly and delicately, just moving them enough until they started parting and then it became obvious to me where to open to.

The first word I saw was the chapter title in the top right hand corner of the right hand page...Fate.

Goosebumps. I read down the page until I found the message meant for me that day:

"The pull of purpose comes with force; you may feel full of purpose. But just what it is and how to get there remains undetermined. The telos [aim or fulfilment] may even be double or triple and confused about whether to sing or dance, write or paint. Purpose does not usually appear as a clearly framed goal, but more likely as a troubling, unclear urge coupled with a sense of indubitable importance."

That's how I've been feeling in a nutshell - about writing, about this blog, about Uni, about my thesis, about what I'm doing on the planet and point of it all.

I have moments where I feel full of purpose, but I don't know what I'm aiming for. So I try and name it but I am at once lost for words. But Hillman has today helped clarify the unclarifiable - that troubling ache and urge that strikes to write this blog, that thesis, both of which I debate the importance of yet which I feel the pull of purpose with and sense of importance that I cannot doubt or deny.

I am drawn to spirit too - the world that exists within and behind this world, and the mystery of the soul and what we can do to connect with and integrate its abundant guidance and wisdom. To work with that realm is another ache I feel, hence a sense of confusion as Hillman points out from a double telos as to which one to pursue.

But just like this book coming into my life somewhat unexpectedly, we don't always know what's next. Nor do we always understand the relationship and meaning between seemingly unrelated instances as they occur - but if we're open to seeing the connections and believe in a greater purpose at work then we can let go and trust that all is unfolding in our highest and best interest . Maybe it's time the Seeker was a little more patient and trusting that all will be revealed at the 'right' time. And when the urge strikes to go to the desk and write, write!

One last thing - I want to thank you, dear readers and family and friends, for supporting me as try and find my telos, my aim, my purpose, that I feel is so strongly bound to words and meaning and this thing we call life. It is a privilege to be read by you and my honourable pleasure to share with you that which is in my heart. Love and gratitude, G xx

The wisdom within

This morning I attended day one of a week-long early morning yoga intensive.

At 5.25am the alarm shook me out of my much-needed slumber and I wondered with a heavy head for the hundredth time this past week,

why did I say yes to this?

Don't get me wrong, I'm a big fan of yoga, and it's not like anyone is 'making me' do it - I volunteered... with enthusiasm!

You see this particular yoga teacher is someone I love to learn from. Truth be told, it's almost enough for me to be in the same room as him. So it's not like I didn't want to do it - I just wondered at 5.26 when I dragged myself to the loo and at 5.27 when I was reluctantly running the shower and at 5.41 when I was backing down the driveway in denial...

Why say yes to getting up this early five mornings in a row? 

Why? 

Why do it to yourself?!

It seems I wasn't the only one wondering why.

Not five minutes into the session and we've been asked the same question:

Why are you here? 

What was the impulse that made you want to come here today, 

this morning, and practise yoga? 

I pondered this why some more while sitting on my mat. And again throughout the practice. A number of reasons came to mind but I'm not even sure they matter. Our teacher's point was that we felt some kind of urge that then led to the thinkings that led to all the plans we had put in place to be there. We think the idea to say yes has come from our thoughts, but before that there was a felt sense of yes that came from the body.

Another why has just come to me as I write this post -

why am I even telling you this?

Because a dear friend was talking to me about this very thing over a cup of tea this afternoon <3

And because I think this happens a lot. For many of us.

We've all had that fleeting intuitive hunch that we feel in our gut or that little leap in our heart - the impulse to say yes or no to something. And often we do. But then our mind starts trying to talk us out of it. It claims to know what's best for us, or what's right. Or we feel it, but we don't know if we can trust it.

But as our visiting Yogi pointed out this morning, the body is intelligent. It knows what we need. And if we listen to those signals and urges more often, respecting this innate wisdom we all have within, then maybe we'd be more content, more happy, more peaceful, more healthy, more alive.

Wake-up call

Last night I made a surprise admission. 

There was nothing pre-meditated about it either. 

The words seemed to just find their way out of my mouth.

"I think I've become a bitter and ungrateful person."

My husband's reply:  "You'd better not be! I don't wanna live with someone like that!" 

I could've been offended by his comment but I wasn't - I could hear the humour in his voice and knew this was his way of trying to get me to lighten-up. We've been together long enough for him to know how terribly hard I can be on myself.

My response: " How do you think I feel? I have to live with me all the time! It's alright for you - you get to go to work and be away from me for periods of time. I don't! I'm stuck with me!"

We both laughed. It was funny - but it was also true.

We cannot escape ourselves.

My admission may have been a little harsh, but I've become very aware of the nature of my thinking and there are times when the inner critic just will not let up. 

Where has my compassionate heart gone? I wondered. The me that understands that we are all human and doing the best we can at any given time. That me is kind and knows to look beyond the superficial to the suffering that aches to be seen and heard. 

When I am that me I am much more gentle, grounded, available - to others as well as myself. I feel connected and yet am able to flow more easily with the ever-changing nature of life and the people I inhabit it with. Gratitude comes, and not from the material goodness I have but from the experiences that life provides me with that enable me to love.

This was the me I wanted to be more of. This me was much nicer for me to spend my days with - no need to try and escape from  that me.

I wanted to wallow for a while, in the sorrow and regret that I felt, so I did. But soon after I fell safely into sleep, knowing that today was just a night away and that I had the chance to wake-up and do it different.

Feeling my way

January: the month that wreaks of promise and possibility, of hope and wonder, excitement and delight at what the coming year may bring, is almost over.

And I'm not ready for it to be! I'm not ready for February! 

Because with it comes a creeping in of all that was. The bright new year is well and truly over and what settles in is life as we knew it - nose to the grindstone stuff. Days are marked out by dates and deadlines, routine, structure, to-do lists, in-boxes, productivity, aaaaggghh!! 

Then comes the rut. The spontaneity and life that effortlessly sustained us in January as a result of seeing the world through optimistic eyes is replaced with getting stuff done, as soon as not really humanly possible. Life becomes ho-hum again. Its get down to business time.

But I don't want to!

Actually, let me clarify that. 

I do want to - I do want to get down to business. I do want to get stuff done. I do want some kind of routine to my days. I do want to tick things off my to-do list. I do want to be productive.

But not at the expense of fun, freedom and creativity. Not this year.

No. This year I'm going to do it different. I want to do it different.

This year I'm not just going to focus on what I want to achieve; I'm going to focus on how I want to feel.

This morning when walking Harvey I realised how lacklustre I'd become. The 'new year feelings' I described earlier had worn off and I was left with a sense of apathy. The excitement and interest that was directing my thesis was vanishing and everything was looking grey.

I don't want to feel like this! I thought. Needing a pick-me-up I searched my ipod Audiobook list and stumbled onto exactly what I didn't know I needed to hear.

It was Danielle LaPorte's Desire Map Daily.

She talks about chasing goals and how we yearn and hope and wish that we will be fulfilled when we reach them. But, she explains...

"You're not chasing the goal,
you're chasing a feeling you hope reaching the goal
will give you."

She believes this kind of achieving is backwards, and that it's burning us out. I'd like to add that it can lead to feelings of emptiness, confusion and stuck-ness, none of which we want to feel!

So what do we do instead?

Danielle suggests we get clear on how we want to feel in our life - identify what she calls our core desired feelings -  and then we base our intentions on them.

She says, "Not only do we have to put our feelings at the heart of our ambitions, we have to pursue our desires in a way that is life-affirming rather than soul-depleting."

Yes results matter, but what is the driving force behind your goals? Her answer: your core desired feelings. And once we identify them we can use them to make more powerful choices, daily.

Of course, this Desire Map stuff is not new to me - I first heard about her work early last year, and was so impressed I bought the book! But it lived on the shelf ever since. Until today.

I definitely don't want to feel this listless, uninspired, lethargy any more. It's time to get in touch with what I want to feel - what my soul is yearning for, what my heart truly desires and to start living.

A Hell-ish journey

Forgive me friends and fellow travellers for my rather long absence - I've been in holiday-mode. And I've had a hard time getting out of it! 

A lot has happened since I last posted a post - we've had a visit from Santa, said goodbye to 2014, said 'Hello 2015!', eaten too much, drank too much and as far as I'm concerned - driven too much! (Sorry Rolly)

It's just that I'm not so great at 'journeys' - as you know I'm all about the destination. And as we know, that perspective often gets me in trouble.

But I recently had an experience where the journey mattered more than the destination.

We were in Hell, literally, at my in-laws property in Western NSW. (And no I'm not being disrespectful - I use the name which Banjo Paterson quotes in his famous poem, Hay and Hell and Booligal, with affection.)

Anyway, I love being in Hell. Life is simple there. We wander and play and explore and rest at our leisure - so long as it fits in with morning and afternoon tea! There's something about the lack of connectivity with the rest of the world and that big big sky that is freeing.

One of my favourite things to do is ride. 

And when your in Hell no helmet's required.

My preferred mode of transport, my sister-in-laws bike from her youth :

 And with no other cars, bikes, pedestrians, or people!...no lights, no road rules, just me and that never ending horizon underneath that big ol sky...sigh...it is freedom. And joy.

And for once I don't want to reach my destination. 

I just want the journey to go on and on and on.

Hello fear!

I've been wondering what this week's post will be about. Especially when it didn't show itself last week!

What usually happens is a word, a situation, or an experience will present itself and contain the stirrings of a post. And I'll 'know' that it is a post. But not this week. Or last.

And its not like there's been nothing to write about - it's probably more that my inner censor has decided that certain topics or events are 'too big' to write about or get into. It's my old mate fear, hovering over my left shoulder, watching my every thought and choice, tricking me into believing I can't,  I shouldn't and so eventually I don't.

Last night I was rummaging in my desk drawer looking for a sign - something, anything! to point me toward a blog post.


I found this...

It's an excerpt from Rumi's poem, The Guest House, which is stuck up on the wall across from my desk.

Why? Because it's been a great comfort to me of late.





Being human and a traveller on this journey called 'life' we will naturally encounter and experience a myriad of emotions over and over again.

Some of them are fleeting - often the joyous ones, the ones we love to feel, the ones that make our heart soar - the ones we try so desperately to cling to. Others hang around like a bad smell - they are the ones we do everything we can to avoid - fear, anger, rage, resentment - the list goes on. But it seems the more we wish them away, the more insistent they are, and stay!

Rumi reminds us that each 'new arrival' is a guest to be honoured - whether it be happiness or heaviness - there is something to be gained.

The notion that they may be clearing me out for some new delight has helped me move from unease and bewilderment and toward greater calm and acceptance.




The real comfort comes from Rumi's message - that each feeling and thought are a part of the wisdom of this mysterious and wonderful universe, sent to teach us and help us learn and grow. And although I may not understand each visitor's purpose at the time of their arrival, I can boil the kettle and settle in knowing that the lesson will unfold.

A sign of support

Last week while walking Harvey through the forest an Echidna scuttled across the path, right in front of us! He stopped of course, as soon as Harvey started barking at him, curling himself into a tight ball, quills raised ready to defend and protect.

Such an unexpected sight, I knew I'd have to look up my Animal Dreaming book to see what Echidnas represent.

As we know, and saw, at the sign of threat they will dig themselves into the ground leaving only their quills visible - a great deterrent, this mechanism shuts them off from the world.

Scott Alexander King, author of Animal Dreaming, writes that while this action protects them from attack, it can also unfortunately shield them from any assistance or support offered by those who would see no harm come to them.




Hmmm...I am beginning to feel uncomfortable in my skin - the Echidna sounds a lot like me.

I read on.


"Open your heart to the needs of those around you and the nurturing they can offer. Stop shutting people out. You need to let down your guard, relax your sense of personal protection, develop tolerance and begin to trust."



It was like he was talking directly to me.

"Echidna helps us understand the fundamental distinction between denial and determination,
or...the difference between not wanting assistance and not needing support."

I am definitely someone who likes to be independent, but the warning he gives to be wary of being too independent, to the point where one may be seen as distant, ungrateful, unapproachable came across loud and clear.

I've felt the quills come up. They usually accompany the old belief that I should be able to do this... on my own. Stubborn creature aren't I? And I know this attitude gives off the energy that I don't need help, or want it, doing just what the animal psychic said - shutting me off from the rest of my world.

I really like to support others and help in any way I can. This Echidna has reminded me that I too need help at times - we all do - we're human. And it's high time I relaxed those quills of mine, let down my guard and soften to the beautiful people around me who want to see me succeed and be well.

NOTE: this post is dedicated to those people - family and friends - old and new, who have patiently supported me and shared the journey so far... With love and gratitude : ) xxxx

The comfort in change

You know how last week I realised it's all about the journey, well the question that has plagued me during difficult times, is how to be with 'what is' - with the journey as it's unfolding - when we don't like 'what is'?

It's easy enough to enjoy and appreciate the 'good times', the happy times, even the times when we are just cruising along - no particular ups or downs, just cruising so to speak; content.

But what about the potholes, like the one I hit on Tuesday, that you're just about to crawl your way out of but lose your footing?

Yesterday I felt like there was no way out of that pothole.

It was one of those days where I couldn't wait for night to come so I could go to bed and escape the pain in my belly and my mind. I replayed those same unanswerable questions of years gone by over and over, hoping that I'd discover a new insight, a way forward, a step to take in the 'right' direction, something to ease the suffering.

But all it did was keep me stuck in the hole.

I wanted to get out but I didn't know how. There was no hope left to propel me up and onto not-so-shaky ground.

Today I am none the wiser re answers to the seemingly unanswerable questions I have about my health and the pain, but after listening to Pema Chodron, I have been able to climb out of the pothole and with hindsight, see what I was doing that was keeping me stuck.

In a talk on freeing ourselves from 'fixed-mind', from the recording called Walking the Walk, she says  that we think things are solid - our mind fixates, freezes things.



We get triggered or 'hooked' and our mind finds it difficult to let go. Our mind becomes fixed. Frozen. We think that thoughts and feelings and life itself are solid, when they're actually not - they're fluid.

Somehow this morning I was able to see that I had been doing this. That yesterday my mind became fixated on the feelings of despair and uncertainty. I was hooked and got carried away with the seven-year story of my ill-health and thoughts of no end, no hope filled me with fear. I felt paralysed - like there was no way out of the hole, and even if there was, what was the point?


I was in 'fixed-mind', and thanks to Pema Chodron, not only did I realise that, I was reminded that our thoughts and feelings are fluid and changing.

As is life - it is change. My health status changes. The pain changes. My thoughts and feelings about my health change.

But for some reason yesterday I did a really good job of solidifying and as a result, suffering.



She finishes up with what I consider to be very good news - that our natural state of mind is open and that we can return to open-mind in any moment and at any time. That open-mind exists and is part of our natural state is for me, an extreme comfort. As is the knowledge and wisdom that everything is fluid and changing.

Not there yet

Five seconds into the drive home from yoga this morning I am faced with a decision - which way will I go? Straight ahead or turn right at the fountain? My mind tries to work out which route will get me home the quickest so that I can get on with my day.

I choose to turn right. The light is red so I know I will have to wait a few seconds, but I'm ok with that - a few seconds won't hurt...

I get the go-ahead and turn on the green arrow. I don't get far - the next light turns red. I sigh. Then off I go again for a couple of hundred metres, until the next set of lights also turns red. Another sigh. And on it goes, every set of lights, all the way up Mitchell Street at 7.17 in the morning.

The sky was pretty, the air fresh, there was no emergency but I felt the irritation rise with every stop.When I got to the roundabout and yes, had to once more stop for oncoming cars, I saw what I was doing and I laughed - because I still believe, no matter how many times I've read otherwise, that the destination is more important than the journey.

And this, I sadly realised, I apply to almost everything I do...
Yoga - can't wait to do it, but want it to be over.
Eating - want to, yes, hungry, but want to finish so that I can do the next thing.
Writing blog posts - keen, but can't wait to press publish!
Walking Harvey - which track cos I've also got to blah, blah, blah...

Tick, tick, tick, tick. I'm a list person and I like to tick things off it. This doesn't make the list any smaller though - I just keep adding to it! So the list will never end. And I'm so busy planning the next 'destination' that the current journey and all that it offers is lost. Wasted.

I had a chat with a counsellor up at Uni this morning, just to sort through my choice to be a full-time student. He'd only known me for about 15 minutes before he said, "It's like you're running a marathon but you want to get to the end as quick as you can!" Hmmmm. Another affirmation that the destination is more important than the journey.

Does it really matter? I muse, as I sit here right now, writing these words. As long as I'm happy, right? But am I?

Life is ALL ABOUT THE JOURNEY, isn't it? I mean, that's what life is - it's a journey. And the ultimate destination, as my yoga teacher has reminded me a number of times, is death. Why would I want to rush to there?

It's definitely time to take off the blinkers, look around and BE where I am - whether I want to be there or not, cos that's where life happens - NOW.  

Those red lights are my new wake up-call, my cue back to consciousness, to the present, where the richness of life unfolds and gives me the chance to really live.

Am I ready?

My days are now quite different than what they have been for the past four years. I'm a full-time Masters student now.
I have a thesis to write!
Each week day I come in to my Uni office and 'work'. I read. I write. I read some more.
These are things I love doing, but this week I'm not feeling the love.


This week it feels difficult and hard and overwhelming and lonely. And I can't quite get my head around the why.

I'm not telling you this so that you'll send messages of support - I'm telling you because this is where I'm at. And because I'm human.

I'm a human being struggling with something she's never done before. I've hit the hurdle of doubt. The problem - an uncertainty about what I'm doing and how I'm going to do it.

But all this reading and searching led me quite unexpectedly to these words of wisdom yesterday afternoon -

Every problem implies a question: are you ready to embody what you say you believe? 

Can you reach within yourself for enough clarity, strength, forgiveness, serenity, 

love, patience, and faith to turn this around?

Am I ready?
Can I find those things within me and turn this problem around before I let it paralyse me?
I want to.
I want to believe that clarity exists - that I can see clearly - that sometimes its just clouded over by doubt.
I want to believe I have enough strength, energy, determination, to see this thing through.
I want to believe there is enough forgiveness - for myself and my doubt, and that I may touch serenity often, despite my uncertainty. 

Love, well, it's a hope that never wavers, a hope there is enough to continue to light the way forward. And may it keep me patient enough to return to the desk, day in day out.

And what can I say about faith?
It's the very thing I have counted on every day since I embarked on this journey.

Yes I have faith in the hidden construct that enables life to be life, but faith in myself - that I'm not so sure about.

But maybe it's time to find out.

An unexpected beauty

Today I don't want to give you a big story about the words I'm about to share with you.

I just want to type them and click 'publish' and let the magic speak for itself.

But I feel a little introduction is necessary - so consider this brief!

I've been listening to Tara Brach, a Buddhist meditation teacher and wise wise woman, talk about acceptance and love and worthiness on my ipod for over a year now. And it all makes sense. In fact I love it so much that I recently decided to buy her book of the same name: Radical Acceptance.

It arrived last week. And it is beautiful - the feel of the cover, the colours, the weight of the book, the texture of the pages - oh! I am wondering what took me so long to order it?

And she has such a beautiful way about her, the way she tells stories to illustrate the teachings, her down-to-earth and kind approach to matters of the mind and heart. And it's just as easy to read as she is to listen to.

She opens the book with a famous Rumi quote that I have heard her recite over and over again. I know I said I'd keep the intro brief, but I really want to share it too - so here it is:

Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
there is a field. I'll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase each other
doesn't make any sense.

Sigh.

But it is the poem she begins chapter two with, by Antonio Machado, that prompted this post. I'll leave you with it... xx

Last night, as I was sleeping,
I dreamt - marvelous error! -
that I had a beehive
here in side my heart.
And the golden bees
were making white combs
and sweet honey
from my old failures.

Enough

Today I am not at Uni. My daughter is not feeling well so I will work from home. There is plenty to read - always - so I have plenty to do.

But for just a moment I contemplated what it would be like if I didn't have to do any work today. No reading. No writing. No thesis to think of or post to post.

What if I was to let it all go?

What if I was to live the life I've always worked so hard to avoid?
The life that is Mum and Wife?
Just that.

I can see the days turning into weeks and then months and all of a sudden the years will have passed, years of washing and cleaning and cooking and shopping and ...

This line of thinking has always scared me, cos if I did live that life, of Mum and Wife, then I'm afraid I'll wake up one day and regretfully wonder :

What have you done with your life?

That's the pattern. Until today.
Today another question spoke up.

Today I asked, Do you have to do anything else with it?

If you've lived it with a peaceful mind and a joyous heart, isn't that enough?

If you've loved and laughed and learnt from everything that's come your way, isn't that enough? 

If you gave everything you had to everything you did, wouldn't that be enough...

Get real

This letting go has taken me into new terrain.

Friday's pain had me seeking further understanding around judgment and blame.

While contemplating my present situation it dawned on me that I ask far more of myself than I do of others. It seems I have made up two sets of rules - one that I live by and another set that I insist everyone else live by.

Your set says reach out. Share your story. It's ok to feel how you feel. It's ok to ask for help. It's ok to be human.
My set says I should know by now. I should know what to do. I shouldn't feel this way. I have to do this on my own. It's not ok to be human.

I'm not sure how or why this happened, but when did I decide that it's ok for everyone else to be human but me?

The past few years of ill-health have definitely taken their toll, and instead of me being kind to myself and cutting myself some slack, I did the opposite - I judged myself harshly, criticising myself for what I was going through. My self-talk was riddled with shoulds. And should is loaded with blame and guilt.

Where was the compassion I had so often given to others? The gentle accepting voice, supporting and soothing; the good listener hearing all that was hurting; the patience and care for the sufferer and their suffering?

Now at this point I could've heaped a whole lot more criticism -  more blame, more guilt - onto myself for treating myself with such disdain.

But this time I didn't.
This time I saw the truth and I saw myself differently.
I realised my humanity.

This was my journalled response:
I want to be human don't I?
I want to experience life just like everyone else.
How can I be of any use to anyone else if I don't allow myself to be human? 
I don't want to be unreachable, untouchable - I want to be real. 

So...It's definitely time I ditched my set of rules and started living by the ones I let everyone else live by. Something else to let go of...

Perfectly whole

If you've been following my blog, you'll know that I'm a recovering control freak and a perfectionist. I'm not proud of either of these titles, but rather than pretend these parts of me don't exist I've decided to be open to them and even curious about them. Hell, I might even celebrate them!

Yesterday someone told me that I am 'already perfect'. This wasn't someone who knows me very well, so it wasn't coming from a place of flattery and pleasantry - it was delivered as fact. A universal truth. I frowned. It's not the first time I've heard it - and not the first time I've struggled with it.

My relentless strive for perfection is an obvious testimony to the belief I have about myself :  I'm not perfect...yet.  And it's a nasty belief to have.

I'm not perfect yet is like an insidious disease - it eats away at your confidence and undermines your self-esteem. It taunts you with a promise that I'm not sure will ever be reached or fulfilled - cos who says what's perfect and what isn't? My judging mind and critical eye are the first to say No... not good enough. So when will I ever measure up to my over-blown unrealistic expectations?

I won't.

All night the word 'perfect' kept popping into my mind. I vowed on falling asleep to look it up this morning.

Joy. Three definitions were available, with the number one in pole position for a very good reason.

Coming in third place were the words 'very satisfactory'. Hmmm...I can live with that. But it's still open to judgement - something I'm trying to let go of ; )

In second place, was the word 'faultless' with the example, 'a perfect diamond'. This definition is the one that I have let rule my choices and my life - at my expense. Faultless... knowing I am not this is what has driven me to distraction (and perfection).  Let the diamond be perfect and get on with being human Gena. Enough said.

But coming in first, with surprise and delight, was the definition I have needed for years. It shatters every ridiculous ideal I have of faultless perfection into a million tiny pieces of insignificance - 'complete; not deficient.'

Goose bumps. I sigh with relief. My days of believing I am fundamentally flawed are over.

If I am 'perfect', then I am complete, whole. Not deficient or lacking. This is not to say that I won't continue to seek, evolve and grow. But the intention will be powered by curiosity and my love for learning - not so that I may become faultless and flawless - but whole.

From the Twigseeds Contemplation Cards Volume One

Know friend of mine

As you know, I like to know.

I'm a seeker - I'm curious about life and the stuff that happens to us and what we can do with it and how we can learn from it.

I consider this desire to be a healthy one. It assumes that I don't know which grants me the space to explore, to expand, to grow.  Not knowing invites possibilities. It begs that I be inquisitive and open and aware. All great qualities to develop and enhance.

But there is part of me - yes the control freak - who wants to know the time, the weather, how long we'll be there for, what's on the menu, when we'll be back, what we're doing Saturday, Sunday, Monday...aaaarggghhh! That kind of wanting to know is different -  I know.

Since I wrote last week's post I've been thinking a lot about control. It comes so easily and naturally to me that I can't imagine giving it up ; ) But I am smart enough to know that it's not all it's cracked up to be.

That kind of knowing - when, where, and how, down to the nth detail - leaves little room for spontaneity. It's all about structure and the purpose is purpose. There's no time to lose - every second counts. No wonder it feels like Groundhog Day. And what do you think that does to my creativity? My curiosity?  It's like my openness and awareness have to fight for visiting rights and as for fun and frivolity... well these days they're rarely allowed out!

But I know what's going on here - I've studied myself for long enough to know there's more to it than wanting the power that comes with control - that's just an illusion. What it's covering is fear. Basically I'm scared.

I'm afraid of what could happen and that I won't cope with whatever that may be. Somewhere along the way I've lost faith in myself and my ability to handle what life throws at me. Knowing exactly what's going on and planning (controlling) as much as I can is my safety blanket - it helps me avoid (resist) unnecessary suffering.
If  I do x then I'll get z  which equals happiness. But does it?


Sigh. There are no guarantees.
So what do you think happens when I don't get the outcome I predicted?
You can probably picture it.
Let's just say it's not a pretty sight!
The reality is I end up stressed, which creates more suffering - the thing I was trying to avoid in the first place.
Another sigh.





I think what's happened is I've forgotten who I am and what I believe.

It's time for an injection of faith - in myself and in this amazing thing called life that continues to provide me with everything I need to survive and thrive.

It's time to make friends with the fear.

Out of control

Letting go.

I think it's the biggest lesson I'm here to learn.

And I struggle with it, as you know.

So I've started to seek out the wisdom of others, hoping to get some help with getting my head around it.

My latest assistant is Hugh Prather and his book, "The little book of Letting Go."

But it's not as little as I'd like it to be! I ordered it from interstate and when it arrived the other day I was disappointed by how big it was. I must've been subconsciously hoping it would be small in size, my mind equating 'little' with 'quick and easy'.

I was still hopeful when I began reading this 'little book' in bed last night. A dozen pages in and all was going well - it was making sense - a lot of sense - and I thought this is do-able. Then I got to page 17 and all hope was lost. 



My eyes were drawn to the highlighted box at the bottom of the page where it said, "There are only three things you need to let go of..." I was rapt. Only three things?! This book is probably way longer than it needs to be  I mused, and then read on...

"...judging, controlling and being right."

 

I laughed. Out loud. And hard. It was incredulous. Preposterous even. He wants me to let go of judging, controlling and being right - only the three hardest things for a control freak like me to let go of?! And yes I know they're extremely damaging and detrimental to my health, happiness and relationships, but at the age of 43 and having done them most of my life, and now being quite good at them, how on earth am I going to let go of them?

This letting go was going to be much harder than I thought.

I am a self-confessed control freak. Which judging and being right go hand in hand with. We control freaks strive for perfection - there is no room for error.  Everything has to be just right - including us. We need to know what's happening when where and with whom, at all times. We don't know how to go with the flow - and we don't want to.  We want to feel in control - secure, safe, and seriously satisfied. We 'put in' and we 'expect', and when things don't go our way we judge and criticise and crawl our way back to control.

And don't get me started on the 'being right' bit ! I am reminded of Wayne Dyer, another favourite author of all that is wise, who has often stated the question: Would you rather be right or happy? You don't know how many times I have asked myself that question and so badly wanted me to answer happy - but I don't.  My power need kicks in and the control freak in me would rather be right.

Oh dear - it seems then that there is much work to be done.

Although now that I am writing about this and reflecting, there has already been a swing in the balance. These days I am leaning more toward wanting to be peaceful rather than wanting to be right. Peace more than anything,... more wise words from Wayne Dyer that come to mind and are finally beginning to resonate.

It's that peace in my mind and heart that I long for. To feel ok with who I am and what's happening around me, knowing that things will be tough and trusting that they are happening for my highest potential.

I know I'll be better off by letting go of judging, controlling and being right, and I know it won't be easy, but it's definitely a worthy goal.

Surrounded with support

Today this post comes to you from a different place. It's still from my heart, but this morning it sits with me in my new office at La Trobe Uni where I am embarking on my next venture - a Research Masters.

My mission is to write about the healing power of love and forgiveness using the experiences I have been through these past few years as the fuel for the fire. And let's face it - there's plenty to use!

I have been given a desk in an office on the third floor of the Arts building. The view, the place, the space - I am very grateful for them, but it feels a little strange. And lonely.

I know that writing is mostly a solitary act but when I write at home I feel comfortable and happy and safe. I have created a space that feels welcoming - my desk is always a pleasure to sit at. At home I am surrounded with the love that fills it via its inhabitants, be they people or pet. And then there are the trinkets and treasures, many of which are my books that offer relentless support.

I have brought a few special bits and pieces in with me over the past few days and it's beginning to feel more 'like home'.

My newest addition is a set of cards I've had for years, called Angels with Attitude. It's been a while since I've used them, so I did what I do - I shuffled them and held them and shuffled them again, while I wondered what 'Angel' might come to me.

Of all the days, this was the one...

This card reminded me that support shows up in many ways. We automatically think of people - and there have been a few supportive 'angels' that have flown into my day today, quite unexpectedly too... thank you <3 

But what about the support we get from the sun, the stars, the spoon? Assistance and encouragement can come from the inanimate too. All that exists around us that we take for granted or don't even realise is there that helps us.

A great source of support for me has been the beautiful poet, David Whyte. He doesn't know this of course, but I have been moved to tears and goosebumps on many occasions while reading and listening to his poetry. His wisdom is like a hug and a gentle nudge all at once - comforting yet at the same time urging you to be brave and face the next frontier.

This is one such piece. I share it with you today because it reminds me that I am not alone.

Everything is Waiting for You

Your great mistake is to act the drama
as if you were alone. As if life
were a progressive and cunning crime
with no witness to the tiny hidden
transgressions. To feel abandoned is to deny
the intimacy of your surroundings. Surely,
even you, at times, have felt the grand array;
the swelling presence, and the chorus, crowding
out your solo voice You must note
the way the soap dish enables you,
or the window latch grants you freedom.
Alertness is the hidden discipline of familiarity.
The stairs are your mentor of things
to come, the doors have always been there
to frighten you and invite you,
and the tiny speaker in the phone
is your dream-ladder to divinity.
Put down the weight of your aloneness and ease into
the conversation. The kettle is singing
even as it pours you a drink, the cooking pots
have left their arrogant aloofness and
seen the good in you at last. All the birds
and creatures of the world are unutterably
themselves. Everything is waiting for you.
  
David Whyte
from Everything is Waiting for You
©2003 Many Rivers Press

As I sit typing the end of this post I 'put down the weight of my aloneness and ease into the conversation' going on around me - the old brown timber desk resting under my forearms, the wind rushing through the trees outside my window, the pens and pencils eagerly awaiting their turn to write...and allow the intimacy of my surroundings to support me.

I am thankful for all that is waiting for me.