How do you handle down time? I feel this need to be constantly busy, which I know is excessive, but very typical of most people. If we quiet ourselves down, what might we hear internally? I think this is very frightening for some people, and reflected, for me, for the longest time, my feelings about meditation.
Now I see meditation as a relief, a release, and an unwinding. I don't know how Buddhist that makes me but I'm not really looking for a label. I just do what I do. Get in touch with something deeper.
So while my kids are playing at the neighbors, I can do nothing. I can meditate. Always knowing I could be interrupted at any time. And being okay with that.
Monday, June 30, 2014
Saturday, June 28, 2014
TMI
When the woman taking my son's cast off last week asked if he was named after the biblical prophet Ezekiel, I answered in the affirmative. So it may have led her to believe that we are Christian. So without missing a beat, my son says, "Oh but we're not Christian." I think maybe the lady was, and I think I may have blurted out that we are secular humanists and the nurse lady said what's that and I explained we believed everyone can believe in anything as long as no one gets hurt.
But in this ever polarizing country, it feels a little edgy, or dangerous, to announce to strangers that you're not Christian. Because it implies some nefarious underbelly which isn't there, but is assumed to be there. Good god, could that mean you are in the presence of an atheist!?
I didn't even TRY to get into my aspiring Buddhist tendencies. The whole thing was awkward as hell. I mean, the woman was holding a saw. But she still took my son's cast off and acted nice even if inside she was horrified. I just don't know.
My son is being taught to respect other religions and to be firm in his own family credo, but I'm not sure most of the world is ready for our open-minds and earnest candor.
If everyone was a Buddhist, we'd be all set.
But in this ever polarizing country, it feels a little edgy, or dangerous, to announce to strangers that you're not Christian. Because it implies some nefarious underbelly which isn't there, but is assumed to be there. Good god, could that mean you are in the presence of an atheist!?
I didn't even TRY to get into my aspiring Buddhist tendencies. The whole thing was awkward as hell. I mean, the woman was holding a saw. But she still took my son's cast off and acted nice even if inside she was horrified. I just don't know.
My son is being taught to respect other religions and to be firm in his own family credo, but I'm not sure most of the world is ready for our open-minds and earnest candor.
If everyone was a Buddhist, we'd be all set.
Thursday, June 26, 2014
In Deep
My son, who, like me, has OCD casually mentioned to me that he worries more when I worry. What a jagged enormous pill that was to swallow.
My mental health is vital for his mental health. Talk about interdependence.
This just ups the ante for me to be on my A game as much as possible.
The stakes are high for everyone.
But I mustn't let that fluster me. I must just accept it and take great care of myself and my family, so that our collective worries shrink away and our confidence soars.
My mental health is vital for his mental health. Talk about interdependence.
This just ups the ante for me to be on my A game as much as possible.
The stakes are high for everyone.
But I mustn't let that fluster me. I must just accept it and take great care of myself and my family, so that our collective worries shrink away and our confidence soars.
Monday, June 23, 2014
Let Go
Sometimes I look at my children in utter amazement that they are mine. They came to be because of me and my husband. They are such miraculous creations and are becoming more and more independent, which is right and good and healthy.
And makes me want to cry. I know, I know, they can't stay babies forever, they've got lives to live, but my son is eleven and my daughter is nine. In seven or eight years they could be out living on their own working or going to college. The mind boggles.
Very big changes are lurking within them. Puberty will be experienced at the same time as perimenopause--good luck to my poor husband on that score.
It is hard to let your kids go when they need to go do whatever it is they're doing. You want to shield them from any suffering, but that's not a life, that's prison. They have to get out there in the world and taste what it has to offer, and stumble and fall and get back up again. I'm working hard on letting go, but it ain't easy.
Nobody said it would be.
And makes me want to cry. I know, I know, they can't stay babies forever, they've got lives to live, but my son is eleven and my daughter is nine. In seven or eight years they could be out living on their own working or going to college. The mind boggles.
Very big changes are lurking within them. Puberty will be experienced at the same time as perimenopause--good luck to my poor husband on that score.
It is hard to let your kids go when they need to go do whatever it is they're doing. You want to shield them from any suffering, but that's not a life, that's prison. They have to get out there in the world and taste what it has to offer, and stumble and fall and get back up again. I'm working hard on letting go, but it ain't easy.
Nobody said it would be.
Sunday, June 22, 2014
Connectedness
Much of Buddhism centers around interbeing and interdependence. Never does that feel more real for me than when I spend time with friends and/or family. I'm coming off a speedy but excellent visit with my best friend. We can talk to each other about anything, and we do. We complete each other's sentences, we enhance each other's lives immeasurably.
While we speak on the phone weekly, nothing beats being together in person. I am always saddened when we part because we are so connected. I miss her all the time. I do, however, always feel connected to her, and not just because of the phone calls. I've known her for nearly thirty years, so she is simply a part of me and who I am. She improves my life so much.
I'm very thankful for her and for the sustaining relationship we have. I also feel very blessed (for lack of a better turn) to have great connections with my family, especially my mother and sister. We are all connected, too. And of course there's my amazing kids and awesome husband, who are my anchors in this life.
So hooray for connections. They make the world sing.
While we speak on the phone weekly, nothing beats being together in person. I am always saddened when we part because we are so connected. I miss her all the time. I do, however, always feel connected to her, and not just because of the phone calls. I've known her for nearly thirty years, so she is simply a part of me and who I am. She improves my life so much.
I'm very thankful for her and for the sustaining relationship we have. I also feel very blessed (for lack of a better turn) to have great connections with my family, especially my mother and sister. We are all connected, too. And of course there's my amazing kids and awesome husband, who are my anchors in this life.
So hooray for connections. They make the world sing.
Saturday, June 21, 2014
Choo Choo
There is something incredibly soothing about taking the train. I'm currently on a five and half hour trip to be with my best friend for 24 hours and I'm loving it. There's wifi, verdant scenery, and enough time to take a nap if I feel the urge.
It's the ultimate in security in a way, because everything is out of your control. Rather than angsting on a plane or car or boat, on a train, at least, it's nice to sit back (and not get motion sickness) and not have to do anything. Let go, as it were.
Letting go is the hardest thing.
I'm constantly searching for a way to train my brain to LET GO. I'm reading various self-help books and more scientifically based on my condition. I have a new road on which to travel with my new diagnosis. Mindfulness is even more important than ever. And the ability to let go and just be is my goal and challenge.
Thank you, Amtrak, for a few hours of peace.
It's the ultimate in security in a way, because everything is out of your control. Rather than angsting on a plane or car or boat, on a train, at least, it's nice to sit back (and not get motion sickness) and not have to do anything. Let go, as it were.
Letting go is the hardest thing.
I'm constantly searching for a way to train my brain to LET GO. I'm reading various self-help books and more scientifically based on my condition. I have a new road on which to travel with my new diagnosis. Mindfulness is even more important than ever. And the ability to let go and just be is my goal and challenge.
Thank you, Amtrak, for a few hours of peace.
Wednesday, June 11, 2014
Resisting Change
I'm having a challenging time with this whole transition out of school thing. We're all at loose ends and not sure what to do with ourselves. Camps don't start until next week, and I want my kids to have free time to play and yes, be bored. (It's working.)
We are having a playdate this afternoon. It feels funny to call it that with kids aged 9 and 11, but that's what it is. It will involve my socializing as well, which is good for me, but as with everything else, a change. I've become so comfortable living my solitary-during-the-day-life. Now I have different demands on me and I have to remember that this is all fleeting.
Everything is ephemeral, and everything is born, and dies. So too with chapters in our lives. So while I may be a bit uncomfortable in this chapter, there will be another one before I know it. My challenge is to stay in the present moment and not worry so much about the future. This has always been my challenge and when there's change around, I get more anxious.
I was also reminded last night of how important exercise, vigorous exercise, is for me. If I don't get it, I get wound up pretty tightly. So even though the daily schedule is different, I still need to get my exercise and meditation in. I missed the latter yesterday and I could feel a difference. These two things are my salvation. The keys to mental peace.
So I try to roll with the changes, and if I'm comfortable, that's great, and if I'm not, oh well. Blink and the situation will be different anyway. I need to lean into the change, charge into it like a buffalo in a rainstorm. (They run directly into storms, unlike other animals, and as a result, actually become less wet. It's true.)
We are having a playdate this afternoon. It feels funny to call it that with kids aged 9 and 11, but that's what it is. It will involve my socializing as well, which is good for me, but as with everything else, a change. I've become so comfortable living my solitary-during-the-day-life. Now I have different demands on me and I have to remember that this is all fleeting.
Everything is ephemeral, and everything is born, and dies. So too with chapters in our lives. So while I may be a bit uncomfortable in this chapter, there will be another one before I know it. My challenge is to stay in the present moment and not worry so much about the future. This has always been my challenge and when there's change around, I get more anxious.
I was also reminded last night of how important exercise, vigorous exercise, is for me. If I don't get it, I get wound up pretty tightly. So even though the daily schedule is different, I still need to get my exercise and meditation in. I missed the latter yesterday and I could feel a difference. These two things are my salvation. The keys to mental peace.
So I try to roll with the changes, and if I'm comfortable, that's great, and if I'm not, oh well. Blink and the situation will be different anyway. I need to lean into the change, charge into it like a buffalo in a rainstorm. (They run directly into storms, unlike other animals, and as a result, actually become less wet. It's true.)
Monday, June 9, 2014
School's Out
And the neighborhood drama begins anew. There is this angel-faced little boy with a lot of problems who tends to provoke the other children, and cries foul when people do not want to spend time with someone who speaks or treats them in an unkind way.
It is all of impossible not to sometimes feel antipathy for this child. And yet, he is still just a child. I am more afraid of who he will become than who he is, if he follows the trajectory he is on. He knows no limits and is left alone outside for hours at a time without supervision. He is seven.
Sure, it's not crazy to be unsupervised for a bit when one is outside on a cul de sac with the babysitters and stay at home mamas on patrol. We always need to know where our children are, even and especially if they are out of earshot.
We all watch out for each other on this street. But I feel sorry for the little boy who has such a hard time playing with others. I want him to be happy, but not at the expense of my children's feelings. And who is watching him?
What a dilemma. I've coached my kids about what to say to someone when they're teasing or being rude or, more accurately, talking smack about them. But it is so very hard for my own children to stand up to this child, to take the power back from him. They are working hard at it, and they are trying to be tolerant, but everyone has a breaking point, including this little boy. And that's what scares me.
It is all of impossible not to sometimes feel antipathy for this child. And yet, he is still just a child. I am more afraid of who he will become than who he is, if he follows the trajectory he is on. He knows no limits and is left alone outside for hours at a time without supervision. He is seven.
Sure, it's not crazy to be unsupervised for a bit when one is outside on a cul de sac with the babysitters and stay at home mamas on patrol. We always need to know where our children are, even and especially if they are out of earshot.
We all watch out for each other on this street. But I feel sorry for the little boy who has such a hard time playing with others. I want him to be happy, but not at the expense of my children's feelings. And who is watching him?
What a dilemma. I've coached my kids about what to say to someone when they're teasing or being rude or, more accurately, talking smack about them. But it is so very hard for my own children to stand up to this child, to take the power back from him. They are working hard at it, and they are trying to be tolerant, but everyone has a breaking point, including this little boy. And that's what scares me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)