alone again

I remember a really low time in my life when I was lonely and completely enslaved to my moodswings. Anyway, I found this website called Yeti or something that was programmed to make you feel like you were really talking to someone (supposedly a Yeti) but all the responses were computer-generated. Kind of like talking to a wall and having the wall talk back. It didn't make me less lonely but it made me introspective, and I slowly began to descramble my brain--at least for a moment. I suppose that's what journalling--and this blog--does for me. "Dear diary..." And why not? Why can't we make companions of blank notebooks or computer screens? Sometimes they provide a glimpse of another part of myself that's not worn out and predictable but always renewing itself, always almost...It's like walking in the woods and there's a clearing ahead, bright sun on flowers, and it's almost better to resist the temptation to walk over to it but allow myself to just glimpse it and accept it as a little bit unknown. Mysterious but not really because part of my being knows that clearing as well as it knows my inner workings and thoughts. Knows it well enough not to need to disturb it. I sometimes feel like I could embrace the world without moving at all. "All the lonely people"...to somehow offer them what they already have--wisdom and peace.

hiding

Here I am ready to take one more baby step into the unknown. The only way I allay my anxiety is by trying to focus on everything that isn't changing. But what is that? Maybe it is more important to know it than to describe it. If I described a close friend what would I have achieved? It would be better if I could introduce her to you. I have friends who I really believe would take to each other but for one reason or another I have been unable to arrange for them to meet. I can talk all I want about how compatible they might be but so what? I think most of my talk is useless. I feel the least like myself when I'm talking. And writing isn't much better. For example, how much can you really learn about me by reading this blog? I hide behind words I think. There must be a better way to communicate. It would probably require courage and creativity. Any ideas?

Purpose

Trying to follow my soul is difficult but exciting. It's a strange world and strange methods of recording and sharing experience need to be employed. I need to be employed. I have been resting for a long time in myself, waiting for the opportunity or inspiration to manifest. Sitting here with a keyboard on my lap seems dangerous. My fingers are cold. My mind is quiet.

The personal is political. All I really want for myself is love, peace and purpose. Where do I find what I need? What can I offer as a gift to life? How can I find and maintain a sense of integrity and freedom?

routine and fearfulness

It can take a crazy amount of courage just to speak sometimes. I've been trying to learn a little Spanish lately for a trip I'll soon be taking. But today I wouldn't even use the Spanish words for the food I ordered in a Spanish restaurant. Was I afraid I wouldn't pronounce them perfectly? Then what? Did I think they would throw me out? If something so obviously unthreatening seemed so difficult it makes me wonder how many times and in how many ways I turn away from what I really believe/value out of fear. But it's so much easier to see the mistakes I make than the mistakes I don't allow myself to make.

I feel pretty comfortable in my routine. Sometimes I'm like a drunk with horse and wagon, asleep on my feet, relying on my familiarity with routine to get me through a day (just as horses can usually find their own way home). But what about those opportunities to experience or see something just a little bit differently? What about those cues from my intuition that I completely miss? It's quite possible that those small things I neglect to do might be important to my life's purpose. Without the courage to experience and participate in life I am like someone who takes a vacation and drinks so much that they can't remember a thing. Could it be possible that I have been going through the motions of living for many lifetimes so far, without courage or involvement? That might explain why I don't remember any past lives.

trust in potential

I remember taking an Alexander Technique workshop when I was in university. The thing that suprised me the most is how much more strength it seemed to require to move with correct posture and alignment although it was clearly more natural and efficient. I suppose it's because those alignment muscles simply hadn't been in use for so long. Everything required concentration and effort--sitting, standing, walking. I was exhausted by the end of the day.

Lately I've realized that when I am feeling really centred my posture improves automatically and my movements are much more graceful. My shoulders drop, spine straightens and I feel a lot lighter on my feet. All kinds of small adjustments take place almost immediately. And it feels effortless.

There are many approaches to teaching voice, and I've studied under a few different teachers. During my most concentrated period of study I experienced something that seems to relate to this automatic alignment. Lots of tiny muscles are required to speak and sing, far too many to visualize let alone consciously control. But we do control them when we shape vowels. Rather than worrying about them I let them do what they needed to do and was only conscious if I felt discomfort in the throat. Instead I would focus on my stomach muscles and somewhere in my mind I would hear the note I was going to sing. If I could imagine it and if I felt strong inside I knew I could sing it well. Even consciously breathing was a distraction. Although my breathing was abdominal, what I focused on in my belly was more of an intensity.

When I refer to intensity I mean an awareness of potential or strength. Creating space for the strength I know is there although it is not yet engaged. Too often my thoughts try to crowd me right out of my body. They make me feel weak and tired. I experience a chronic tension in my shoulders and neck that is closely related to a cramped posture. It really takes a lot more energy to let my thoughts take me wherever they wish than to be conscious of what I'm thinking and experiencing. After a night of dreaming I experience the same discomfort and exhaustion. If I meditate after waking I can begin to relax. The relaxation is something I observe, not something I consciously achieve. I wonder how much more in my life could come more naturally and efficiently if I were to trust that space inside.

style

This quote from Tom Robbins (Another Roadside Attraction) has puzzled and compelled me for some time now. Perhaps because I am stylistically challenged:

"The most important thing in life is style. That is, the style of one's existence--the characteristic mode of one's actions--is basically, ultimately what matters. For if man defines himself by doing, then style is doubly definitive because style describes the doing."

"The point is this. HAPPINESS IS A LEARNED CONDITION. And since it is learned and self-generating, it does not depend upon external circumstances for its perpetuation. This throws a very ironic light on content. And underscores the primacy of style."

"It is content, or rather the consciousness of content, that fills the void. But the mere presence of content is not enough. It is style that gives content the capacity to absorb us, to move us; it is style that makes us care."

I suppose this could be reassuring when I'm feeling redundant. But how does a person discover or choose a style of being? It sounds too much like shopping to me (and I loathe shopping). Does style determine content or the other way around? Which comes first? I feel like I'm drowning in a lake of possibilities sometimes, incapable of choosing. I suspect that content is what we choose and style is what we unconsciously acquire over time. But does our personal style predispose us to certain careers/actions? In that case could stylistic ambiguity or confusion inhibit choice/action?

in time

Anxiety ends when I recognize my relationship to time and experience.

My great task is to be myself. Freedom then is not only the aim but the prerequisite. Everything happens in time so this is possible. Every paradox shall be resolved in time. Last year is a blank notebook I can write in now. It wieghs nothing at all--a feather must weigh in more heavily than the past. The future is also a blank notebook. If it were not always so I would not dare anything. Night cleans and reassembles everything for the next day.

"The past is open to revision because memory is a function of present intention." (Sam Keen and Anne Valley-Fox)

It used to depress me that I would be in what I'd describe as a state of grace but then slip out of it and back into conditioned reactions. It is reassuring to know that the same moment is still there for me. The state of detachment is located in space and time--as something experienced in a moment--and is yet always available to me as a potential. Lately I have been returning to the sensation of being in love as a meditation. I realize I do not need to be in love with anyone in particular to experience this--it is part of me. So there is no need to worry about losing someone whose presence inspires this feeling. Nothing is ever lost that is truly valuable. Beauty is connected to a state of mind as well, anything can be deeply appreciated. Keats was right when he wrote "A thing of beauty is a joy forever" because the ability to experience that joy in beauty increases over time.