In the Moment

Spent a nice afternoon with my kids today. We were all in the same room, will wonders never cease, and we were doing different things. It was quite lovely in its simplicity. I watched my son play his goofy video game, Fancypants, and talked to my daughter about the toys with which she was playing, which I had played with over 40 years ago. Man, does that make me feel old!

But the memories of playing with those old Fisher Price toys are good ones. She plays just as I did, on her own (or with a friend or sibling, if available) and makes up her own elaborate stories. She can go for hours. I remember the same thing from my childhood.

Talk about an excellent example of living in the moment!

Kids express their Buddha nature with such ease and freedom. Where do we get separated from it along the way to adulthood? And how do we get it back?

Another Metaphor

Projects

Well, I'm getting bored, so that must be a good sign. When I was really sick, I wasn't bored, I was just a lump. But I don't want to dive too quickly into another ocean just yet; my swimming skills are not up to par just now.

I have two different novels I've written that I'd like to do something with. (I know you're not supposed to end your sentences with prepositions, deal with it) I'd like to self publish but first I need the moxie to read them. It's a bit like seeing yourself on video or hearing your voice on a recording--you are both sure and not sure that the person is you, and you are shocked that this is who or how you sound or look.

With writing, I wrote in such a literal frenzy (NaNoWriMo--30 days to write a novel!) that I probably won't even remember parts of what I wrote. The writing process, at least for me in these two instances, was like a massive brain dump. I had no shortage of things to say.

It's the EDITING that's daunting. Guess I could just dive in and read a couple of pages a day. Keep it simple. Then I can consider self publishing or setting it out for critiques. I think it could be good for young adults. If I'm really serious about self-publishing, then I need to reconsider Facebook. Blorch.

I do not have a stable relationship with Facebook. I loathe it mostly and see it as a time-suck, but most everyone I know is on it, and if I have a book I'm trying to sell, I ought to have a page for it. I think you can make a page just for that, not just your personal page. Surely there are classes on this somewhere that I could take, or websites to walk me through the process.

So I have things in mind. I'm just trying to do them in slow motion. Trying to stay on the middle way.

More on Story Editing

I've just started reading a book, Redirect, by Timothy D. Wilson . He refers directly to story editing, which I mentioned some days ago, and how it can help in myriad ways, just by shifting one's thoughts ever so slightly. He also intends to show how some self help and psychological strategies aren't rigorously tested (if at all) for efficacy and lasting impact, so sometimes the cure is worse than the disease.

I'm so excited about it I'm going to go and keep reading it. Stay tuned.

Coming to Terms

So I'm finding myself caught between a rock and a hard place. I decided to take this month off from volunteering at my kids' school. I had been teaching improv and French to early elementary school aged kids. It was sort of fun, but left me drained and feeling like I'm both dying to get back into the game and nowhere near ready, nor if I ever will be.

I spent six months in a hypomanic state at work lead teaching two year olds and I'm starting to think that I may not just be burnt out on teaching little kids, but maybe I am just burnt out on teaching. Yes, I am drawn to it, but isn't that because I've always done it? It's been my default. I've always wanted to be a writer, a performer, an expressive arts therapist or theatre education facilitator. I don't want to teach second grade or preschool or even adorable Kindergarten. 

I think I'm burnt out pretty severely.

And I don't know what to do about it. It was always my way to serve the world, to teach. I could feel like I was doing right action because though it always paid terribly, I was bringing joy into other people's lives and that gave me satisfaction and purpose. And I'm pretty damn good at it.

So the question is, do I stop teaching, period, or just stop teaching little kids? I can't separate the two and yet this needs to be addressed. Part of my OCD is excessive worrying about responsibility. So why would I subject myself to taking care of little kids when I worry about them every minute? I think I need a new line of work. Or volunteering. 

My husband told me the other night that he thought the worst thing about my breakdown this year was that it shook my confidence. And he's right about that. In a profound way, my confidence in my abilities was shaken, and I don't know when I'll get it back, at least in the teaching profession.

The irony is not lost on me that only last week, after numerous badgering emails, did I finally get a copy of my Master's degree in Early Childhood Education graduation certificate from the school I attended. I have it, now what do I do with it?

Maybe I'll write children's books. I don't know what to do.

The truth is, I need what little "kid energy" to give to my own kids, not other people's. Teaching and being responsible for other people's children makes me want to run the other way. I fantasize about a job as a part time receptionist at a hair salon or something. What does that mean?

Am I just trying to get blood from a stone with this volunteering? Should I steer clear of teaching altogether? Or do I try to parlay this part time volunteering gig into an actual working gig for next year, if that's even feasible. Or do I go back to work at the arts agency where I worked my ass off for a pittance but made little kids happy and expressive. 

I think maybe I'm sick of teaching improv and French. I've been doing it on and off for decades and I'm just tired of it. And tired of (most) kids.

Is it time to embrace that and find some other option for volunteering? Or do I keep going because I'm good at it and it gets me out of the house? Surely there are other places I could be helpful.

Good thing I just found a good new therapist. I'm gonna need her.

Just Being

How many of us, when left to our own devices, will truly just sit around and not think? I mean that literally. Plenty of people meditate, and that's sitting down and either thinking of one thing or trying not to think of anything and let stray thoughts float on by. And that's invaluable.

But that's not what I'm talking about. What do you do when you have "free" time? You instantly fill it. Isn't that what the Internet was made for? Sucking away time.

I check my phone and email multiple times a day, like many people. I don't do Facebook because I think it's depressing, but I do have a mild online presence and I do interact with screened objects every day.

But here's my example: I have ten minutes before I need to leave to pick up my kids from school. What do I do with it? Busy Brain would tell me to get a load of laundry in, or clean up a room, or do something "productive". But do we always need to be productive?

It can be scary to stare down ten empty minutes with no distractions. But I think it's worth trying, because you let your brain catch up to your feelings that way. It's easy to be busy all the time and never let yourself think or feel deeply, and for that you pay an enormous price. That's what I did this year and everyone around me felt it deeply and painfully.

So here's to sitting with yourself for five minutes. If you want to meditate, focus on your breath. Or just sit there, and do nothing. See how it makes you feel and how you respond to it. It could teach you something.

Being of Use to Others

Feeling mostly okay these past few days, which is a big improvement. I'm coming off a five day on again, off again, migraine. But that's not important. What's important is I feel mostly human again, which is a real treat, frankly.

I'm trying to give my best and my all to my family, since they are my top priority. I also resolved this year to lose weight and get a good therapist. And I want to consider joining a sangha, which would be a huge step for me. I'm scared to go to a new doctor, let alone enter into relationship with an entire community of new people. Plus there are always logistics, child care issues, parking. And at this time of year, I don't feel like doing anything that takes me outside of my little warm bubble at home.

That may not be the best choice. I need to be around people. But it's so cold they're closing the schools tomorrow so I won't be alone tomorrow!

But seriously, I need to get out, at least some. Getting dressed beyond sweats is a good thing, even though it takes great effort. I also want to just enjoy my good fortune: i have few obligations other than parenting (not to minimize it because it's huge, natch) so I can give myself a chance to heal and be more available for my immediate family. I'm trying to let go of needing an occupation or vocation apart from existing as a wife and mother. Our tendencies as humans are to lead us into wanting conventional, outward success: am I successful because I pick my kids up from the bus every day after school or because I'm a highly-paid lawyer? (Pretty far-fetched, but work with me here.)

We've defined ourselves by external standards of success, leaving buried our good intentions and innate goodness and ability to just be a decent person. That's what I'm most interested in right now. Being of benefit to a handful of other people and not being harmful to myself. Because as Buddha said, "You, yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe, deserve your love and affection."

Words to live by. Perhaps tomorrow's post we'll look at the culture of self-loathing in the Western world. Or we'll talk about my cats. 

The Stories We Tell Ourselves

I heard about this concept of "story editing" that is a psychological angle you can use on yourself to view past trauma and negative experiences in a more positive light. Of course it was on NPR, and pointed to me by my kind friend.

The essence is that if we can reframe the past, we can feel better in the present. The example given was of a little boy changing his story from the time he got scared into his mother's arms by a giant frankenstein statue to saying he had peed on it. He processed the experience and eventually came up with a way to come out a winner.

This makes a lot of sense to me, and fits in with Buddhist thinking, as in, "What we think, we become". This cuts close to the bone for me because it is easy for me to think that my illness is purely physiological, and that I am helpless in the face of it. But that is not the case. 

In fact, I am in charge of my thoughts and reactions, and don't have to take anything lying down (unless I'm in the mood). So really, I need to find a way to reframe this past year as a year of evolution, not destruction. I still did positive things and made an impact on people around me; it just didn't turn out quite like I hoped it would. But I found my inner warrior, and gave myself the metaphor of a phoenix, rising from my own ashes.

What we think makes all the difference in how we ARE. Food for thought.