Fear

Henry James said something like, "What we fear most is life itself."


At 5:45 AM this morning I was driving to the Channel 10 newsroom for an appearance on the morning NBC affiliate business show. It is live and I have been doing it for over 10 years. . At the airport exit and about ten minutes from the station, I started to get nervous. I always do about that point in the trip. "What if I stumble over my words or stutter?" My mind begins to race. "What if I go blank and can't think of what I am to say?"

Well, today I followed those questions with another that went something like, "Yeah, well and then what happens if you do screw up?" The answer was "nothing happens." I suppose there might be a few seconds of dead televison time, but then what? Again, NOTHING HAPPENS.

I understand this to be true in most of the things we worry about. Nothing will happen. And yet, we spend so much time, effort and energy trying to control outcomes. We avoid things for fear that we can't do them well or something will go wrong. We are embarrassed about our lack of ability in some area. We get nervous, we worry, we fret, we attempt to control. All for what? NOTHING. Because not only does anything rarely happen, we can't control the outcome anyway!

And all that fear is really a fear of life itself. Most of the things we fret over are part of life and in reality we have nothing to fear. Instead of fearing today, I watched things unfold. And you know what? Several people have already told me I did a good job. More importantly though, I was able to ENJOY MYSELF HAVING A GOOD TIME. I mean how cool is it to be on live television?

Anyway, thanks for reading.

Ritual

I know how to live. Eat well, exercise, practice acts of kindness, be grateful, appreciate, turn the other cheek, set boundaries, let go, hang with healthy people or those trying to get healthy. None of this is rocket science. Why then, don't I do it more? I forget. Or maybe more precisely, other stuff gets in the way of my awareness. What helps are small reminders, rituals if you will, to remind me of the importance of living well and what my purpose and meaning are.

Here's a ritual I've learned and like a lot. At night just before I go to bed, I turn my coffee cup over and place it upside down on my kitchen counter. I use that small gesture to remind me that life is impermanent and I take a moment to relish in gratitude of the day I have just lived. I try to recall three things that were special, pleasant, rewarding, or made me smile.

Before I became a 'C' student, I would have listed 10 or 20, categorized them, written them down, or put them in an excel spreadsheet. Now, I just think momentarily of three. That's enough.

In the morning, when I turn the cup over and before I pour coffee into it, I again stop and think of the fleeting time we have here and I anticipate three things I have to look forward to during the day. It might be time at the gym, a surf, a visit, or time alone with my most recent book. I take a moment to be thankful of the abundance in my life.

I read that Tibetan monks do this (they use tea cups, of course) to remind themselves of the impermanence of life in Susan Jeffries book, Embracing Uncertainty.

Namaste

Mike

Listening

One of the ACOA (Adult Children of Alcoholics) characteristics is that we don't ask for what we need or want. We tend to suffer in silent resentment; play the victim thinking 'well I'm not going to get what I want anyway, so why ask?'; and then we get upset and angry that people don't give us what we want or need. Next, we overreact and those around us are usually surprised because they are not mind readers and had no idea what we wanted because we never told them.

There are two rules at ACOA meetings. One is that stuff you hear there is confidential to the person and two there is no cross talk. Cross talk is defined as commenting on what another says or asking questions. So when someone talks, you just listen. They talk for as long as they want and when they finish you say 'thanks.' There is no obligation to talk; some people talk a lot; others don't talk at all.

I'm amazed though at the power of talking and knowing that no one will say anything when I am finished. It is unique in my experience and extraordinary. It allows me to think out loud in a particular way that I can't do anywhere else. Further when someone else talks, it forces me to listen, really listen, to what they are saying. I'm not formulating in my head what I am going to say when they are finished because I'm not going to say anything. I wonder if couples would benefit from this periodically.

Last night we talked about asking for what we need and how this is a difficulty we face. One woman said she doesn't ask for anything anymore. She had only wanted one thing in life and that was to have a family. After a few years of trying and a difficult marriage she, being Catholic, applied for an annulment and found out from a priest that her husband had lied to her and had had a vasectomy and never told her. This incident occurred over 30 years ago and as she told the story, I don't think I've ever seen anyone in so much emotional pain. No one in the room moved or maybe even breathed as she told her story. She never, ever had children and she began to cry as she told the story saying that she hadn't cried for years and years. It was just heartbreaking. Now she says she never asks for anything because she knows she won't get it.

I'm not sure what understanding I took away from this.

Was it to treat people with kindness because they may have experienced such pain in their life we can't even fathom it?

Was it to not give up asking for what I need and setting boundaries in terms of what I'll tolerate?

Was it that we all need to be honest with one another?

Was it the importance of forgiving and letting go?

I gave her a long hug before I left the meeting.

I wonder if it helped.

thanks for reading.

nurturing

I worked on nurturing myself today. I think most days I take it easy on myself. I try to give myself what I need. But I think one can be giving without being nurturing. I can give myself a break, but not in a warm and suportive way. Nurturing requires support and encouragement; not simple giving. Further, you have to nurture yourself before you can nurture others.

I wasn't raised on a lot of nurturance. You did what you had to do on your own and often before you were ready to do it. There wasn't a lot of warm support and encouragement in my house.

I'm a generous person, but may not be a particularly nurturing one. I realize now, that being nurturing means to give with a gentle spirit, a genuine smile, a nice word and a soft and warm touch of encouragment. I can give someone the right of way while driving with an exasperated sigh and an impatient wave of my hand. Or, I can smile and wave with an 'after you' opening of my hand. I can give my son money for school and say, "here, this is for you." or I can put my arm around him and hug him and say, "here I want you to have this.' In both instances, I'm giving, but only in the latter am I being nurtrant.

I think nurturance runs on a continuum. One is not simply nurturant or not nurturant. One is more or less nurturant. I'm becoming more nurturant. With myself and others.

Thanks for reading.

The Tao of Zydeco

If one purpose of a spiritual practice is to develop a sense of connection with oneself, other people, the world and the universe, dancing to zydeco has got to help.

Last night's zydeco dance was so much fun. I talked with friends, danced with pretty girls in swishy skirts, ate great food, laughed and sweated. Lots of sweat.

For the first time last night, I recognized how dancing may be part of a spiritual practice too. I'm practicing to be aware of my body and not simply use my body to transport my head. Yoga helps put one in touch with one's body; to explore one's body; and to learn how one's body is connected to one's spirit, heart, and head

When I'm dancing, my spirit, my heart, and my head as well as my body enters into it. I can feel the rhythm of zydeco music in every part of my body. Sometimes I'll play with it and think, 'okay, now feel it in your left calf; now feel in your elbows" and I'll let the music move my body. When I'm really in sync, the music and the rhythm take over; I don't think or control, the music does that.

Zydeco is a social dance, so you do all this with a partner and that helps my spiritual practice on a social level in that I am connecting with my dance partner in a very special way. Courtesy, gentleness, grace, harmony are all practiced to music. Compassion for those who are learning is great practice. Keeping my ego and not getting a big head because pretty women ask me to dance with come hither looks is great practice. I'm not particularly good at that yet, by the way. :) I need lots more practice there.

The music is a blend of African, Caribbean, and Cajun rhythms illustrating that white, black and colored people are all connected so there is this sense that people of the world have all worked together to create this wonderful experience.

When I do Kundalini meditation, I try to feel the energy from the earth and pull it through my spine to my head. When I dance to zydeco music the rhythm comes through the floor and fills my entire body and head.

You know what though? words sort of ruin the experience. Maybe there are some things that cannot be spoken of. They need to be experienced.

If you open this this link http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LFL_34zE_jM and listen and watch, it may give you a better idea of what I'm trying to say. Watch your body start to move to the music, feel the smile on your face, see a room full of people sharing the same experience, sense the pure joy that is coming out of that room. Is that not spiritual practice?

Thanks for reading AND listening.

Mike

Progress, not perfection

Several of you have commented that I am being too hard on myself. And me being me, I denied that. "Well they only see a part of me in these blogs" I thought. The rest of the time, I'm not too hard on myself.

I went to the yoga and meditation retreat at Kripalu and as I was going into one of the first yoga poses and thinking, "I don't know if I can still do this as well as I used to be able to" the teacher said, "why don't you all try to get a 'c' in this class?" "Don't try to learn everything, just take a few things home with you." When we were meditating the teacher commented that after thirty years of meditating her mind still scampered around like a puppy and she was still 'practicing' the art of meditation.

My friend Harry likes to use those ACOA slogans and one he uses a lot is "progress, not perfection."

So finally the message has begun to sink in- it might be a good idea to aim for a 'c'; it might be a good idea to accept progress and not aim for perfection; it might be a good idea to lighten up on myself and to embrace my imperfection.

Sometimes such simple ideas have such profound results. Embracing imperfection not only allows me to make mistakes and to forgive myself , it allows me to be more aware of my errors and foibles and to address them. Lately when I make a mistake, I think 'okay what can I learn from this?" and I'm less and less upset with myself over the mistake.

Since Kripalu, I've done yoga and meditated every day. I've gone through long periods of doing these two over the years. The difference now though is I no longer feel I have to look like the yoga model in the textbook. It is okay if my hand is not flat on the floor when I do a stretch. But more importantly, instead of stressing on the perfection of the pose, I can focus my attention on the spiritual aspects of yoga and learn more about my body and how I am connected to this universe.

It is the same with meditation. In the past, I would get so frustrated with my mind scampering all over the place, that I would just quit, saying "I can't do this." Well they don't call it a 'meditation practice' for no reason. When I meditate, it is just that a 'practice'. Embracing my imperfection allows me to gently and softly take my mind by the hand when it wanders and bring it back to my breathing or the focus of that particular meditation. And not getting angry or frustrated about it, makes me aware of the benefits of meditation and thus, I keep doing it.

By the way, one meditation I do is called a metta meditation. Many of you probably know it. But it is a meditation in which you bless yourself and others with peace, contentment, serenity, grace, harmony and so on. I include each of you in each of those metta meditations as a way to thank for your reading and responses.

Embracing imperfection in myself allows me to embrace it in others. We were talking last night about school costs and my brother asked me how much my Dad gave me for college and I knew the answer immediately, "thirty five dollars" I replied. Not exactly generous, but he comes with his own agenda. We all do. I can get mad at 'S' for not telling me about her cult. I can get angry with 'K' not telling me she was in love with a married guy. I can get mad at my dad for being cheap. Or I can recognize that we all come with an agenda. None of us is perfect and let it go at that. In my opinion, when people lie, cheat, sneak, or are cheap and cruel they are afraid. They are afraid of their own imperfection and they are afraid that others will see and recognize their imperfection so they behave in ways to deny to themselves that there might be a problem.

I'm not suggesting anything goes. I think we have an obligation to ourselves and each to be honest, compassionate, and make an attempt to improve. I think too though that focusing on progress and letting go of a goal of perfection makes it easier for us to be good human beings. It makes it easier to make progress.

And I think I'm making progress and that is good enough for me.

Thanks for reading.

Thirty days; three understandings

I’ve been writing this blog for about a month now. During that time I have also been attending ACOA meetings and reading and focusing on daily meditations from Melanie Beattie’s The Language of Letting Go as well as The Language of Tao (I can’t recall the author’s name). I’ve read several books on personal growth too. As a result, I’ve come to understand a few things and I want to share them.

First, personal growth is a huge undertaking. I think learning about yourself is vast and takes a lifetime. It is like learning to surf, or about wine, or learning a new language. When you begin and you have learned just a little bit, you run the risk of thinking you’ve mastered your subject. It is only with time and more learning that you realize how little you really know and much further you have to go. A lifetime to go.

I preface my comments here by admitting how ‘green’ I am at this because I want to make sure I realize that current understandings are just that….current and simple understandings.

I don’t know anything.

I expect and hope that these understandings will change and grow over time.
On the other hand, I don’t want to trivialize what I’ve learned. I believe these understandings are basic and fundamental, but true and strong. I believe in them and have faith that they will stand the test of time and scrutiny.

Letting go is my first understanding. What do I have to let go of? I am not sure, but it may be everything. In her book, Beattie lists the following things to let go of – anger, being a victim, chaos, confusion, denial, fear, fear of abandonment, guilt, naivete, need to control, old beliefs, perfection, resistance, sadness, self criticism, self-doubt, shame, the past, those not in recovery, timing, urgency, what we want, and worry. Whew!

Letting go is allowing life to unfold without an attempt to control the outcome. Letting go requires a belief that things always work out for the best.

When I let go, I can be here now and appreciate the moment. When I let go, I can feel calm and serene. When I let go, I don’t have to plan. When I let go, I don’t have to worry. When I let go, I don’t have to suppose, fret, question, examine, or review.
I can simply observe, feel and be.

The second fundamental I have come to understand is the importance of gratitude. This is actually not a new one for me. I have had the great fortune of having had two major and serious illnesses in my life. When I was 22 I spent a year recuperating from hepatitis. When I was 31 I contracted sarcoidosis (I know I’d never heard of it either) and had to have lung surgery and have a pacemaker implanted. Again, it took a year to recover.

Both of those illnesses made me realize how much just simple, good health meant. After spending weeks in the hospital, I remember being so grateful in having the strength to get out of bed and simply sit outside and feel the sunshine.

Those illnesses had a profound effect on me in terms of gratitude. I became more appreciative of what I have. It made me aware that each and every day, no matter how mundane or hard is a very special gift. Gratitude is my way of saying thank you for that gift.

Gratitude has a diffusing quality. When I am upset or angry, I can stop and think, “what is good about this situation?” or ‘things could always be worse” and suddenly things don’t seem so bad.
Gratitude is a magical tool. It can turn frustration into satisfaction; turn failure into success; anger into serenity; denial into acceptance.

The third understanding I have is that I need to practice. I already have the tools to live a healthy productive life. What I need to keep in mind is that I need to use these tools every day. Practice allows me to get better at letting go and feeling gratitude. More importantly, practice makes the responses of letting go and feeling gratitude automatic so that when circumstances are challenging my first response is to use these tools……letting go and gratitude.

So thanks for reading.