Five years ago this month, my marriage ended. We didn't separate for several more months and the divorce took over two years to be final, but the marriage ended in April of 2009.
I have never experienced anything quite that painful. It didn't help that I had also lost my job because of the economy and that on June 9, 2009 my mother died. And my daughter decided to move to California and then I had to move. So with two dogs and no job, the end of a 23 year relationship and the death of my mother, I somehow managed to get through the most intense period of fear and grief I had ever known.
I got so much support from friends. I was so lucky to have resources like therapy and different communities (especially Friends In Deed). The grief was so intense I don't think I could take a deep breath for months and I know that I lost probably 20 pounds within the first two months. That was a perk, to be honest. For years I'd struggled to lose those pounds and they simply fell off.
Five years later, I feel stronger in many ways and happier most of the time. I feel grateful that I've learned to live an independent life and that the loneliness I feel sometimes is better than the loneliness I felt when I was married.
This too shall pass. One day at a time. Surrender.
All those trite expressions really are true. Everything I learned from reading Pema Chodron helped me.
I think I will go back to the Big Group at Friends In Deed tonight just to give thanks for all the support I got there and to listen.
Five years later I am not the same person was and I am deeply grateful for the lessons I learned. They were painful lessons, but I think maybe that's the only way we really ever learn them. And I am grateful most of all for my sense of humor -- which I sometimes forget about -- but somehow I'm always reminded to laugh.
Showing posts with label Pema Chodron. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pema Chodron. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 1, 2014
Monday, April 29, 2013
Scrambled Eggs opens in NYC!
I have worked on this play alone, with a dramaturg, and with my writing partner, for many years. Often I would say to myself, "Why are you still working on this? It's a waste of time." But something compelled me to go back to it and to keep re-working it and refining it. And the joy of the writing always motivated me to keep at it. And the desire to entertain and also be of service also inspired me.
I never really thought that someday it would open in a theater in New York, with an excellent cast and director and that people would come and see it. I never really imagined that there would be an audience for this play and that people in New York, one of the toughest cities in the world to succeed in theater, would actually laugh and really enjoy it.
This entire experience has been (so far, at least) a labor of love, community, creativity and joy. There have been difficult times, creative arguments, some scary moments, lots of stress, but overall, so far it's been a dream come true and everyone from the assistant stage manager to the director is enthralled with this production. I think the fact that our director has set a tone of generosity and respect for everyone, has given us all a freedom to be part of the creative process, enjoy every moment, to stay in the now, to take each day as it comes.
I decided to look at one of my Pema Chodron's books this morning and opened to this passage:
"We never know
When we think that something is going to bring us pleasure, we don't know what's really going to happen. When we think something is going to give us misery, we don't know. Letting there be room for not knowing is the most important thing of all. We try to do what we think is going to help. But we don't know. We never know if we're going to fall flat or sit up tall. When there's a big disappointment, we don't know if that's the end of the story. It may be just the beginning of a great adventure.
I read somewhere about a family who had only one son. They were very poor. This son was extremely precious to them, and the only thing that mattered to his family was that he bring them some financial support and prestige. Then he was thrown from a horse and crippled. It seemed like the end of their lives. Two weeks after that, the army came into the village and took away all the healthy, strong men to fight in the war, and this young man was allowed to stay behind and take care of his family.
Life is like that. We don't know anything. We call something bad, we call it good. But really we just don't know.
Learning to live with not knowing has been a challenge for me, but I'm definitely getting better at it. Like so many things in life, it is a practice and you just continue working on it, not until you get it right or perfectly, but until it becomes second nature. And I don't know if that ever really happens, because even someone as enlightened as Pema Chodron says she struggles with day to day challenges.
Just being alive is a gift though. It's almost May, the trees are filled with gorgeous blossoms. And I look forward to tomorrow night, to being back in the theater with my wonderful creative family.
I never really thought that someday it would open in a theater in New York, with an excellent cast and director and that people would come and see it. I never really imagined that there would be an audience for this play and that people in New York, one of the toughest cities in the world to succeed in theater, would actually laugh and really enjoy it.
This entire experience has been (so far, at least) a labor of love, community, creativity and joy. There have been difficult times, creative arguments, some scary moments, lots of stress, but overall, so far it's been a dream come true and everyone from the assistant stage manager to the director is enthralled with this production. I think the fact that our director has set a tone of generosity and respect for everyone, has given us all a freedom to be part of the creative process, enjoy every moment, to stay in the now, to take each day as it comes.
I decided to look at one of my Pema Chodron's books this morning and opened to this passage:
"We never know
When we think that something is going to bring us pleasure, we don't know what's really going to happen. When we think something is going to give us misery, we don't know. Letting there be room for not knowing is the most important thing of all. We try to do what we think is going to help. But we don't know. We never know if we're going to fall flat or sit up tall. When there's a big disappointment, we don't know if that's the end of the story. It may be just the beginning of a great adventure.
I read somewhere about a family who had only one son. They were very poor. This son was extremely precious to them, and the only thing that mattered to his family was that he bring them some financial support and prestige. Then he was thrown from a horse and crippled. It seemed like the end of their lives. Two weeks after that, the army came into the village and took away all the healthy, strong men to fight in the war, and this young man was allowed to stay behind and take care of his family.
Life is like that. We don't know anything. We call something bad, we call it good. But really we just don't know.
Learning to live with not knowing has been a challenge for me, but I'm definitely getting better at it. Like so many things in life, it is a practice and you just continue working on it, not until you get it right or perfectly, but until it becomes second nature. And I don't know if that ever really happens, because even someone as enlightened as Pema Chodron says she struggles with day to day challenges.
Just being alive is a gift though. It's almost May, the trees are filled with gorgeous blossoms. And I look forward to tomorrow night, to being back in the theater with my wonderful creative family.
Sunday, April 21, 2013
Life as an experiment
I haven't written on this blog in a long time. It's mostly because I've been extremely busy and so much is happening.
Our play "Scrambled Eggs" is opening this coming week. It's very exciting and also very stressful. I have never had much confidence, so this is really a stretch for me. I know that every creative endeavor, when you put it into the world, requires some nerves of steel, which I don't have. But I do have the awareness that life is about taking risks and sometimes you come out okay and sometimes you don't.
The fun of this experience has been in the work. I have enjoyed writing this for a long time and working with this cast is a joy.
Also, I've continued writing for the Huffington Post on various subjects - faith, loss, grief, dancing, divorce, women leaders. It's been a great outlet for me to write anything I am interested in.
Today, I have mostly been obsessing about the play and how the dress rehearsal had some major mistakes and that the leading man, like me, seems to have terrible allergies. And on and on......my mind can go into the most imaginative and creative disasters.
So once again, Pema Chodron came to the rescue. I was cleaning out my wallet and I came across this passage, that I carry around with me (and forget to look at):
"My teacher, Trungpa Rinpoche encouraged us to lead our lives as an experiment, a suggestion that has been very important to me. When we approach life as an experiment we are willing to approach it this way and that way because, either way, we have nothing to lose.
This immense flexibility is something I learned from watching Trungpa Rinpoche. His enthusiasm enabled him to accomplish an amazing amount in his life. When some things didn't work out, Rinpoche's attitude was 'no big deal.' If it's time for something to flourish, it will; if it's not time, it won't.
The trick is not getting caught in hope and fear. We can put our whole heart into whatever we do; but if we freeze our attitude for or against, we're setting ourselves up for stress. Instead, we should just go forward with curiosity, wondering where this experiment will lead."
As I published this, I noticed that my last blog post included this same passage! Interesting coincidence. I guess it's important that I take this in.
Our play "Scrambled Eggs" is opening this coming week. It's very exciting and also very stressful. I have never had much confidence, so this is really a stretch for me. I know that every creative endeavor, when you put it into the world, requires some nerves of steel, which I don't have. But I do have the awareness that life is about taking risks and sometimes you come out okay and sometimes you don't.
The fun of this experience has been in the work. I have enjoyed writing this for a long time and working with this cast is a joy.
Also, I've continued writing for the Huffington Post on various subjects - faith, loss, grief, dancing, divorce, women leaders. It's been a great outlet for me to write anything I am interested in.
Today, I have mostly been obsessing about the play and how the dress rehearsal had some major mistakes and that the leading man, like me, seems to have terrible allergies. And on and on......my mind can go into the most imaginative and creative disasters.
So once again, Pema Chodron came to the rescue. I was cleaning out my wallet and I came across this passage, that I carry around with me (and forget to look at):
"My teacher, Trungpa Rinpoche encouraged us to lead our lives as an experiment, a suggestion that has been very important to me. When we approach life as an experiment we are willing to approach it this way and that way because, either way, we have nothing to lose.
This immense flexibility is something I learned from watching Trungpa Rinpoche. His enthusiasm enabled him to accomplish an amazing amount in his life. When some things didn't work out, Rinpoche's attitude was 'no big deal.' If it's time for something to flourish, it will; if it's not time, it won't.
The trick is not getting caught in hope and fear. We can put our whole heart into whatever we do; but if we freeze our attitude for or against, we're setting ourselves up for stress. Instead, we should just go forward with curiosity, wondering where this experiment will lead."
As I published this, I noticed that my last blog post included this same passage! Interesting coincidence. I guess it's important that I take this in.
Monday, February 4, 2013
Turning a corner
We're now halfway through winter and after a rough start, I find that I am feeling quite content. Maybe part of the reason is having work that I enjoy, making sure I exercise and dance, and finding I can bounce back from feeling blue. Realizing that it's easier to go with the feeling and let it move through me, rather than fight it. Because it does pass and the less I fight it, the faster is seems to go.
I wanted to share three quotes that I'm sure I've written about before, but really resonate with me and I hope they do with you:
"It is not the critic that counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better.
The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again,
because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause;
who at best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly.....
Theodore Roosevelt
"If you want to avoid criticism: do nothing; say nothing; be nothing."
Aristotle
"My teacher Trungpa Rinpoche encouraged us to lead our lives as an experiment, a suggestion that has been very important to me. When we approach life as an experiment we are willing to approach it this way and that way because, either way, we have nothing to lose.
This immense flexibility is something I learned from watching Trungpa Rinpoche. His enthusiasm enabled him to accomplish and amazing amount in his life. When some things didn't work out, Rinpoche's attitude was 'it's no big deal.' If it's time for something to flourish, it will; if it's not time, it won't.
The trick is not getting caught in hope and fear. We can put our whole heart into whatever we do; but if we freeze our attitude for or against, we're setting ourselves up for stress. Instead, we could just go forward with curiosity, wondering where this experiment will lead."
Pema Chodron "No Time to Lose"
I've also been re-reading "The Power of Now" by Eckhart Tolle. I can't believe how much I'm learning, particularly about relationships. Even just saying that there are only 6 more weeks till spring is the antithesis of Tolle's book. There is only now! Enjoy it!
I wanted to share three quotes that I'm sure I've written about before, but really resonate with me and I hope they do with you:
"It is not the critic that counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better.
The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again,
because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause;
who at best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly.....
Theodore Roosevelt
"If you want to avoid criticism: do nothing; say nothing; be nothing."
Aristotle
"My teacher Trungpa Rinpoche encouraged us to lead our lives as an experiment, a suggestion that has been very important to me. When we approach life as an experiment we are willing to approach it this way and that way because, either way, we have nothing to lose.
This immense flexibility is something I learned from watching Trungpa Rinpoche. His enthusiasm enabled him to accomplish and amazing amount in his life. When some things didn't work out, Rinpoche's attitude was 'it's no big deal.' If it's time for something to flourish, it will; if it's not time, it won't.
The trick is not getting caught in hope and fear. We can put our whole heart into whatever we do; but if we freeze our attitude for or against, we're setting ourselves up for stress. Instead, we could just go forward with curiosity, wondering where this experiment will lead."
Pema Chodron "No Time to Lose"
I've also been re-reading "The Power of Now" by Eckhart Tolle. I can't believe how much I'm learning, particularly about relationships. Even just saying that there are only 6 more weeks till spring is the antithesis of Tolle's book. There is only now! Enjoy it!
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
Winter is hard
I have never had an easy time in the winter. I was just looking back at previous posts over the years and every winter I feel blue. I just came from the gym, so that always lifts my mood. Exercise, meditation, reading, gratitude... all of those help.
I'm listening to President Obama talk now about one of the young students, Grace, who was killed in the shooting in Newtown, Connecticut. I hope that he can succeed in getting effective gun control laws passed.
Here is a quote from Pema, who always seems to be the person I turn to when I am feeling down:
"Rejoice in ordinary life"
"We can learn to rejoice in even the smallest blessings our life holds. It is easy to miss our own good fortune; often happiness comes in ways we don't even notice. It's like a cartoon I saw of an astonished-looking man saying, 'What was that?' The caption below read, 'Bob experiences a moment of well-being.' The ordinariness of our good fortune can make it hard to catch.
The key is to be here, fully connected with the moment, paying attention to the details of ordinary life. By taking care of ordinary things - our pots and pans, our clothing, our teeth - we rejoice in them. When we scrub a vegetable or brush our hair, we are expressing appreciation: friendships toward ourselves and toward the living quality that is found in everything. This combination of mindfulness and appreciation connects us fully with reality and brings us joy."
I'm listening to President Obama talk now about one of the young students, Grace, who was killed in the shooting in Newtown, Connecticut. I hope that he can succeed in getting effective gun control laws passed.
Here is a quote from Pema, who always seems to be the person I turn to when I am feeling down:
"Rejoice in ordinary life"
"We can learn to rejoice in even the smallest blessings our life holds. It is easy to miss our own good fortune; often happiness comes in ways we don't even notice. It's like a cartoon I saw of an astonished-looking man saying, 'What was that?' The caption below read, 'Bob experiences a moment of well-being.' The ordinariness of our good fortune can make it hard to catch.
The key is to be here, fully connected with the moment, paying attention to the details of ordinary life. By taking care of ordinary things - our pots and pans, our clothing, our teeth - we rejoice in them. When we scrub a vegetable or brush our hair, we are expressing appreciation: friendships toward ourselves and toward the living quality that is found in everything. This combination of mindfulness and appreciation connects us fully with reality and brings us joy."
Monday, January 14, 2013
The path of the bodhisattva-warrior
"Wherever we are, we can train as a warrior. The practices of meditation, loving-kindness, compassion, joy, and equinimity are our tools. With the help of these practices, we can uncover the soft spot of bodhichitta, the tenderness of the awakened heart. We will find that tenderness in sorrow and in gratitude. We will find it behind the hardness of rage and in the shakiness of fear. It is available in loneliness as well as in kindness.
Many of us prefer practices that will not cause discomfort, yet at the same time we want to be healed. But bodhichitta training doesn't work that way. A warrior accepts that we can never know what will happen to us next. We can try to control the uncontrollable by looking for security and predictability, always hoping to be comfortable and safe. But the truth is that we can never avoid uncertainty. This not knowing is part of the adventure, and it's always what makes us afraid.
Bodhichitta training offers no promise of happy endings. Rather this "I" who wants to find security -- who wants something to hold on to -- can finally learn to grow up. The central question of a warrior's training is not how we avoid uncertainty and fear but how we relate to discomfort. How do we practice with difficulty, with our emotions, with the unpredictable encounters of an ordinary day?"
Pema Chodron
I haven't written any posts since November, when my dear friend Emily Squires was in the hospital. Sadly, she died a few days later.
I just haven't had the heart to write anything because the fall was so bleak and I'm still struggling to get through the days. I miss Em and life feels so uncertain. This morning, I had to read some Pema Chodron to be reminded that this is just the part of life that is real - that we do live in uncertainty and we always will.
When I fight my sadness, it always seems to dig in deeper, so I will try to sit with it. It's a bleak January day. We went through Hurricane Sandy (which isn't over for thousands of people whose homes were destroyed.) We saw a horrible school shooting and still there is a battle over gun control.
I'm sitting with sadness this morning and I'm trying not to fight it. I know this too shall pass and that I have so much to be grateful for. Emily is no longer with us and that is truly sad. I just had a thought though, to call a mutual friend this morning, who is probably also missing Emily.
It's hard to lose someone you love and I loved Emily. I'm watching my dog, Lucy, falling apart. She is 17 now. I'm not sure of the future, but then who is? I wish for happy endings, but if I'm to be a real warrior, I guess I have to accept that there is no promise of happy endings, just this moment, and growing up and relating to discomfort.
"How do we practice with difficulty, with our emotions, with the unpredictable encounters of an ordinary day."
Many of us prefer practices that will not cause discomfort, yet at the same time we want to be healed. But bodhichitta training doesn't work that way. A warrior accepts that we can never know what will happen to us next. We can try to control the uncontrollable by looking for security and predictability, always hoping to be comfortable and safe. But the truth is that we can never avoid uncertainty. This not knowing is part of the adventure, and it's always what makes us afraid.
Bodhichitta training offers no promise of happy endings. Rather this "I" who wants to find security -- who wants something to hold on to -- can finally learn to grow up. The central question of a warrior's training is not how we avoid uncertainty and fear but how we relate to discomfort. How do we practice with difficulty, with our emotions, with the unpredictable encounters of an ordinary day?"
Pema Chodron
I haven't written any posts since November, when my dear friend Emily Squires was in the hospital. Sadly, she died a few days later.
I just haven't had the heart to write anything because the fall was so bleak and I'm still struggling to get through the days. I miss Em and life feels so uncertain. This morning, I had to read some Pema Chodron to be reminded that this is just the part of life that is real - that we do live in uncertainty and we always will.
When I fight my sadness, it always seems to dig in deeper, so I will try to sit with it. It's a bleak January day. We went through Hurricane Sandy (which isn't over for thousands of people whose homes were destroyed.) We saw a horrible school shooting and still there is a battle over gun control.
I'm sitting with sadness this morning and I'm trying not to fight it. I know this too shall pass and that I have so much to be grateful for. Emily is no longer with us and that is truly sad. I just had a thought though, to call a mutual friend this morning, who is probably also missing Emily.
It's hard to lose someone you love and I loved Emily. I'm watching my dog, Lucy, falling apart. She is 17 now. I'm not sure of the future, but then who is? I wish for happy endings, but if I'm to be a real warrior, I guess I have to accept that there is no promise of happy endings, just this moment, and growing up and relating to discomfort.
"How do we practice with difficulty, with our emotions, with the unpredictable encounters of an ordinary day."
Thursday, October 25, 2012
Out of my head
Huffington Post just put up my latest post and so far there has been very little reaction. I think I know why. It was written by my head. The others just poured out of me. This one was very much about explaining, trying to recapture the initial impulse of an earlier post. And then this morning I read this quote, from 2009, that I had posted, and it was a good reminder:
"My teacher Trungpa Rinpoche encouraged us to lead our lives as an experiment, a suggestion that has been very important to me. When we approach life as an experiment we are willing to approach it this way and that way because, either way, we have nothing to lose.
This immense flexibility is something I learned from watching Trungpa Rinpoche. His enthusiasm enabled him to accomplish an amazing amount in his life. When some things didn't work out, Rinpoche's attitude was 'no big deal.' If it's time for something to flourish, it will; if it's not time, it won't.
The trick is not getting caught in hope and fear. We can put our whole heart into whatever we do; but if we freeze our attitude for or against, we're setting ourselves up for stress. Instead, we could just go forward with curiosity, wondering where this experiment will lead."
Here is the post:
Fire Away: A Husband, A House, A Mortgage, the Sequel
A month ago I wrote a post called "A Husband, A House, A Mortgage, A Baby and A Lightbulb Moment" in which I talked about having had what I thought was the "American Dream" and how in the end, it didn't feel like the "prize" I had imagined it would be.
My marriage ended in divorce. We sold our home. My ex and I are not only not in love, we don't even communicate. Everything I had dreamt of having essentially imploded, leaving me to question most of the values I had held dear in the first half of my life.
I received over 1,000 comments and attacks on this blog and after awhile, I had to stop reading them. The blog was not meant to say my ex husband was to blame any more than I was. It was not meant to say that marriage, a home and a family are not worthy desires. It was simply to say that for so many of us, life is not one size fits all. We all have different paths. What works so well for so many families does not work for everyone. And that is not the end of the world -- it is simply the beginning of a new world.
Recently I was in a workshop with several men who talked about their families, their wives and their children. They were so proud and devoted to them, and I felt a pang of envy. To anyone who thought that I was saying that I don't believe in love -- or that I was critical of men -- I apologize. If I didn't believe in love, I wouldn't want to live. Love is, for me, the single most important part of my life. I am surrounded by love and though I do not, at this time, have a partner or a spouse in my life, that doesn't mean that there is no love.
I love my daughter, deeply. I love my dog, Lucy, who has been with me for over 12 years. We rescued her when she was 4 and even at 16, she's hanging in there. I lost a beloved dog, Lola, a year and a half ago when she was only 9. It still kills me to think of her. I love my friends and my family. I love writing. I love babies. I love New York City. I love this entire country and I also love many other countries. I love ice cream. I love people who can put their beliefs front and center and make a real difference in this world. I love spiritual teachers like Pema Chodron -- she saved my life when everything felt like it was going wrong. I love meditation. (I even feel not completely stupid when I chant now.)
I actually love my ex husband. I just don't want to live with him. And it's pretty clear that he is relieved not to be living with me.
When I was in my 20s and early 30s, I believe that walking down the aisle was the equivalent of my "Rocky" moment, climbing up the steps of the Philadelphia Museum of Art in my wedding gown and raising my hands in triumph. I believed that my life was now complete.
And then I saw how challenging it was to keep a marriage going when two people wanted different things out of it. I wanted simply to have a partner and an ally, to know someone had my back and wanted to spend some time with me. He wanted to come together when he wanted to, and that turned out to be, in the end, not at all.
I was not right and he was not wrong. It simply was what it was.
In losing that "Rocky" triumph, I found myself. I found that all the external things I thought I wanted were less important than the internal work I had to do. I found a core of strength I didn't know I had, to help my parents die, to be a good friend to others. To try to know God, or whatever that "higher consciousness" is.
I do believe in love. I do believe in marriage and kids and a home and all of those desires of human connection. I just believe that our lives can be complete and joyous without all the external prizes we think we must have.
Despite a difficult divorce and some very painful losses, the past three years have been some of the best years of my life. Were they better than the early years of my daughter's life, when we were a loving family and we were all together? They were different; not better, not worse.
It's an amazing feeling to fall in love and plan a wedding and embark on a life with the person you believe is your soul mate. But sometimes the person we chose at 24 or 29 or 37 is not the person we can live with at 40 or 50 or 60. Should we be miserable for the rest of our lives because it didn't last? Or should we move on and accept that life has other plans for us?
A year ago, I started studying swing dancing because I hoped that dancing would lift my spirits after a horrible divorce. It did. Recently, one of my favorite dance partners told me that I had to go into more challenging classes in order to improve. I think that's true now about love, too. I think it's time to come out of hiding and put my heart on the line again. I'm scared to step on my partner's feet in an advanced intermediate dance class. And I'm also scared to get my heart broken again. But I know that if I don't take chances in life, I might as well just die right now and forget about the remaining days, months or years. Where would be the joy in that?
After that blog post got so many critical comments, I talked to a few successful writers I know about how they handled criticism and personal attacks. One of them, Michael Eigen, a therapist and author of at least twenty books, said to me, "If you go out into the world, you will be attacked by others. If you stay in your cave, you will be attacked by yourself."
I'm ready. I feel that Pat Benatar has taken over my soul and is singing, "'C'mon and hit me with your best shot... fire away."
Which is also a good song to dance to.
"My teacher Trungpa Rinpoche encouraged us to lead our lives as an experiment, a suggestion that has been very important to me. When we approach life as an experiment we are willing to approach it this way and that way because, either way, we have nothing to lose.
This immense flexibility is something I learned from watching Trungpa Rinpoche. His enthusiasm enabled him to accomplish an amazing amount in his life. When some things didn't work out, Rinpoche's attitude was 'no big deal.' If it's time for something to flourish, it will; if it's not time, it won't.
The trick is not getting caught in hope and fear. We can put our whole heart into whatever we do; but if we freeze our attitude for or against, we're setting ourselves up for stress. Instead, we could just go forward with curiosity, wondering where this experiment will lead."
Here is the post:
Fire Away: A Husband, A House, A Mortgage, the Sequel
A month ago I wrote a post called "A Husband, A House, A Mortgage, A Baby and A Lightbulb Moment" in which I talked about having had what I thought was the "American Dream" and how in the end, it didn't feel like the "prize" I had imagined it would be.
My marriage ended in divorce. We sold our home. My ex and I are not only not in love, we don't even communicate. Everything I had dreamt of having essentially imploded, leaving me to question most of the values I had held dear in the first half of my life.
I received over 1,000 comments and attacks on this blog and after awhile, I had to stop reading them. The blog was not meant to say my ex husband was to blame any more than I was. It was not meant to say that marriage, a home and a family are not worthy desires. It was simply to say that for so many of us, life is not one size fits all. We all have different paths. What works so well for so many families does not work for everyone. And that is not the end of the world -- it is simply the beginning of a new world.
Recently I was in a workshop with several men who talked about their families, their wives and their children. They were so proud and devoted to them, and I felt a pang of envy. To anyone who thought that I was saying that I don't believe in love -- or that I was critical of men -- I apologize. If I didn't believe in love, I wouldn't want to live. Love is, for me, the single most important part of my life. I am surrounded by love and though I do not, at this time, have a partner or a spouse in my life, that doesn't mean that there is no love.
I love my daughter, deeply. I love my dog, Lucy, who has been with me for over 12 years. We rescued her when she was 4 and even at 16, she's hanging in there. I lost a beloved dog, Lola, a year and a half ago when she was only 9. It still kills me to think of her. I love my friends and my family. I love writing. I love babies. I love New York City. I love this entire country and I also love many other countries. I love ice cream. I love people who can put their beliefs front and center and make a real difference in this world. I love spiritual teachers like Pema Chodron -- she saved my life when everything felt like it was going wrong. I love meditation. (I even feel not completely stupid when I chant now.)
I actually love my ex husband. I just don't want to live with him. And it's pretty clear that he is relieved not to be living with me.
When I was in my 20s and early 30s, I believe that walking down the aisle was the equivalent of my "Rocky" moment, climbing up the steps of the Philadelphia Museum of Art in my wedding gown and raising my hands in triumph. I believed that my life was now complete.
And then I saw how challenging it was to keep a marriage going when two people wanted different things out of it. I wanted simply to have a partner and an ally, to know someone had my back and wanted to spend some time with me. He wanted to come together when he wanted to, and that turned out to be, in the end, not at all.
I was not right and he was not wrong. It simply was what it was.
In losing that "Rocky" triumph, I found myself. I found that all the external things I thought I wanted were less important than the internal work I had to do. I found a core of strength I didn't know I had, to help my parents die, to be a good friend to others. To try to know God, or whatever that "higher consciousness" is.
I do believe in love. I do believe in marriage and kids and a home and all of those desires of human connection. I just believe that our lives can be complete and joyous without all the external prizes we think we must have.
Despite a difficult divorce and some very painful losses, the past three years have been some of the best years of my life. Were they better than the early years of my daughter's life, when we were a loving family and we were all together? They were different; not better, not worse.
It's an amazing feeling to fall in love and plan a wedding and embark on a life with the person you believe is your soul mate. But sometimes the person we chose at 24 or 29 or 37 is not the person we can live with at 40 or 50 or 60. Should we be miserable for the rest of our lives because it didn't last? Or should we move on and accept that life has other plans for us?
A year ago, I started studying swing dancing because I hoped that dancing would lift my spirits after a horrible divorce. It did. Recently, one of my favorite dance partners told me that I had to go into more challenging classes in order to improve. I think that's true now about love, too. I think it's time to come out of hiding and put my heart on the line again. I'm scared to step on my partner's feet in an advanced intermediate dance class. And I'm also scared to get my heart broken again. But I know that if I don't take chances in life, I might as well just die right now and forget about the remaining days, months or years. Where would be the joy in that?
After that blog post got so many critical comments, I talked to a few successful writers I know about how they handled criticism and personal attacks. One of them, Michael Eigen, a therapist and author of at least twenty books, said to me, "If you go out into the world, you will be attacked by others. If you stay in your cave, you will be attacked by yourself."
I'm ready. I feel that Pat Benatar has taken over my soul and is singing, "'C'mon and hit me with your best shot... fire away."
Which is also a good song to dance to.
Friday, October 19, 2012
The Only Way Out is Through
"The only way out is through" is often mentioned at Friends In Deed. I remember the first time I heard it, I hated it. But I think it's really true. Latest Huff Post:
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The Only Way Out is
Through
The first time I heard that I thought, “Damn! I don’t want to go through this. I want to go around it, over it, under
it. I want to sleep through it,
wake me up when it’s over, fast forward me to happy days are here again.”
“It” is a dark night of the soul, which by the way is a
misnomer. It generally is dark
“nights”—although I have heard of people who have a spiritual awakening in one
night, most notably Eckhart Tolle, who was suddenly enlightened and began
immediately writing bestselling books.
But for most of us, “a dark night” is
a longer period, often a year, maybe even a few years. And if you are simultaneously an
agnostic, an atheist and a believer, as I considered myself for most of my
life, it is a challenging path out of what feels like hell. (“If you’re going through hell, keep
going.” Winston Churchill.)
You can, if you want, try to avoid the pain – drinking,
drugs, sleeping, lying, stealing, cheating, shopping, sleeping around, eating
gallons of ice cream, bags of potato chips, staring at the television, gambling
. . . you can do any or all of those things but sooner or later the grief you are
avoiding will show up in a meltdown, a pile of debt, another divorce, an
illness, an accident, or any number of other possibilities.
My dark night was years of caregiving and then a tsunami of
loss. My life became a blank canvas that had to be re-painted at a stage in my
life when I was not expecting it. I feel like I should have made a t-shirt for
that first year so that if anyone asked me how I was they could just read the
t-shirt:
~ separatedmotherdieddaughtermoved3000milesawaynojobnohome2dogs ~
When my dark nights began, people recommended books. First
was Pema Chodron’s When Things Fall
Apart:
“I used to have a sign pinned up on my wall that read: Only
to the extent that we expose ourselves over and over to annihilation can that
which is indestructible be found in us...It was all about letting go of
everything.”
Then came The Dark
Nights of the Soul by Thomas Moore:
“Many people think that the point of life is to solve their
problems and be happy. But
happiness is usually a fleeting sensation, and you never get rid of
problems. Your purpose in life may
be to become more who you are and more engaged with the people and the life
around you, to really live your life.
That may sound obvious, yet many people spend their time avoiding
life. They are afraid to let it flow
through them, and so their vitality gets channeled into ambitions, addictions,
and preoccupations that don’t give them anything worth having. A
dark night, may appear, paradoxically, as a way to return to living. It pares life down to its essentials
and helps you get a new start.”
I definitely needed a new start, so then I read…
Getting Naked Again: Dating, Romance, Sex, and Love When You've Been
Divorced, Widowed, Dumped, or Distracted by Judith Sills. I managed that pretty quickly, thanks
to the "divorce diet," it was much easier than I imagined it would
be. But it didn’t change anything; I was still deep into my dark nights.
Crazy Time by
Abigail Trafford was helpful: “Breaking up a marriage may be as common as Main
Street nowadays, but when you finally
do it, the psychological experience seems as uncharted as the dark side of the moon.” That made sense to me. And – if you were the complacent
partner in the marriage and you suddenly stand up for yourself, all hell breaks
loose. I could see that happened
in my divorce.
In fact, my divorce was such a nightmare, that I had to turn
to the Psalms:
“Even in the midst of great pain, Lord,
I praise you for that which is.
I will not refuse this grief
or close myself to this anguish.
Let shallow men pray for ease:
‘Comfort us; shield us from sorrow.’
I pray for whatever you send me,
and I ask to receive it as your gift.
You have put a joy in my heart
greater than all the world’s riches.
I lie down trusting the darkness,
for I know that even now you are here.”
[Psalm
4, Stephen Mitchell translation]
Somehow that brought me comfort.
Recently, I read this very powerful quote by August
Gold:
“To enter the
conversation with Life we only have to change one key word: We have to stop
asking, ‘Why is this happening to me?' and start asking, 'Why is this happening
for me?’ When we can do this, we’re free.”
And this:
“Life, as the biblical tradition makes clear, is both loss and renewal,
death and resurrection, chaos and healing at the same time; life seems to be a
collision of opposites.” Richard
Rohr, Falling Upwards.
Over the last twenty or so years, I have watched many
friends walk through hell. I
didn’t understand how truly difficult their lives were at the time because I
had no reference point. I
understood it intellectually, but not deeply, not emotionally. I have watched friends deal with cancer
and illnesses I’ve never even heard of, deaths of beloved spouses and children,
long term caregiving, loss of homes, businesses, jobs, and deeply painful
divorces.
Now I understand. Now I understand that no one is immune,
nor should they be. I wouldn’t trade any of my dark nights. “Only to the extent that we expose
ourselves to annihilation can that which
is indestructible be found in us.”
The only way out is
through – which it is kind of like a birth, or re-birth. It is a path to a more meaningful life,
though it might not feel that way at the time. It is the path to a second half
of life that is deeper and about tuning out some of the noise of the outside
world and listening to that inner voice in the quiet of a dark night.
.
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
A little bit of muck
I was talking to a friend earlier, who was feeling down.
I was glad I called, it's good to be able to listen when someone is feeling blue. I suggested that she might want to go for a walk to feel better, as I was doing and then I remembered that the truth is, this is life and we aren't supposed to always feel great.
I'm sitting in the muck right now, feeling worried about the election, the economy, my own future, my daughter, my poor old dog, Lucy, who isn't doing all that well.
I am sitting in some sadness and worry and it's perfectly okay.
I saw a story on Rock Center about the Daily Show and how there are several dogs who come to work with their owners. They said it really helps everyone to cheer up when they can pet the dogs.
So here's my dog, Lucy, from several years ago, wearing a $6,000 sapphire, emerald and 24 carat gold necklace. She looks very royal, doesn't she? (The necklace does not belong to me!)
Please let President Obama do a good job at tonight's debate...please.
I saw a story on Rock Center about the Daily Show and how there are several dogs who come to work with their owners. They said it really helps everyone to cheer up when they can pet the dogs.
Please let President Obama do a good job at tonight's debate...please.
Monday, October 8, 2012
Falling Upward
I have been reading a new book called "Falling Upward" by Richard Rohr and essentially it's about, as the book jacket describes:
"In the first half of life, we are naturally and rightly preoccupied with establishing our identity -- climbing, achieving, and performing. But those concerns will not serve us as we grow older and begin to embark on a further journey. One that involves challenges, mistakes, loss of control, broader horizons, and necessary suffering that actually shocks us out of our prior comfort zone. Eventually, we need to see ourselves in a different and more life-giving way. This message of "falling down" -- that is in fact moving upward -- is the most resisted and counterintuitive of messages in the world's religions, including and most especially Christianity."If I've experienced anything in the past three years, it has been this. Reading the book affirms so much of what I've been learning. And though it may sound bad in some ways, actually it is good! It actually is great. The years of pain and sadness have given way to wanting to share in the deeper truths that I have been learning. This morning, in a chapter called "A Bright Sadness" from the book, I read this:
At this stage, I no longer have to prove that I or my group is the best, that my ethnicity is superior, that my religion is the only one God loves, or that my role and place in society deserve superior treatment. I am not preoccupied with collecting more goods and services, quite simply, my desire and effort -- every day -- is to pay back, to give back to the world a bit of what I have received. I now realize that I have been gratuitously given to -- from the universe, from society, and from God. I try now, as Elizabeth Seton said, 'to live simply so that others can simply live.'"This is a big shift in my consciousness because for so many years I craved "specialness" and recognition. And I wanted stuff. I bought "stuff" and though it brought me very little satisfaction or joy, I still wanted it. (This is not to say that I would turn down any presents that anyone wants to give me. Ever.) But "stuff" isn't a priority. I love being curious about life now. I love the life I'm living and much of the thanks go to all the spiritual teachers I've encountered along the way. It started with Mike Eigen (a therapist who writes a lot about spirituality) and continued with Pema Chodron, who I believe saved my life, and Eckhart Tolle, and Regena Thomashauer, and Friends In Deed, and then my dance teachers and too many others to name. I'm not quite sure where it's all leading, but it definitely feels like a move upward - and outward. It feels that it is about paying back and giving to the world a bit of what I've received.
Saturday, January 14, 2012
"Getting hooked"
Yesterday, just as I was getting on the subway, I glanced at my iPhone and saw an email from Abigail, my loftmate, which said "Certified letter." There was no body to the email just the subject, because my phone didn't have any signal. I sat on the subway for ten minutes wondering what the letter could be about.
I came home and read the letter (it really doesn't matter what it was about - let's just say it wasn't great and it had to do with money, always something that is upsetting.) I read it, then took my eye pads (I'll have to share the story about going to the eye doctor to get contact lenses and as a method of increasing moisture, taking a pair of socks, filling them with rice, heating them, and putting them over my eyes every day...but that's another story) and I rested.
I decided, since I couldn't read with the eye pads over my eyes, to listen to a download of a Pema Chodron talk. I found it on my computer and the talk began where I had left off six months ago: enlightenment. She said that no one she had ever heard of had ever really reached "enlightenment" - that is a place where they felt completely at peace with the world. She said even the most enlightened teachers still have moments when they get angry, or get 'hooked" by something, but that the more we practice meditation and have tools, we find that so many of the things in life that used to drive us crazy, no longer have that power.
That is what I felt about that certified letter. I didn't feel nothing, I just felt "okay, well, this is something to deal with." This is such a huge shift for me. I admit that I used to be and can still occasionally be a bit of a drama queen, but now I have tools and I know that I can always make a call to a good friend (which is what I did earlier in the day yesterday when I was having trouble with a real estate deal) or go for a walk, or listen to a tape, or go to the gym, or do yoga, or get a neck massage (I did that Thursday). Dancing is also a great way for me to let go of everything that has hooked me during the day.
I wonder if the Buddha ever did swing dancing?
I came home and read the letter (it really doesn't matter what it was about - let's just say it wasn't great and it had to do with money, always something that is upsetting.) I read it, then took my eye pads (I'll have to share the story about going to the eye doctor to get contact lenses and as a method of increasing moisture, taking a pair of socks, filling them with rice, heating them, and putting them over my eyes every day...but that's another story) and I rested.
I decided, since I couldn't read with the eye pads over my eyes, to listen to a download of a Pema Chodron talk. I found it on my computer and the talk began where I had left off six months ago: enlightenment. She said that no one she had ever heard of had ever really reached "enlightenment" - that is a place where they felt completely at peace with the world. She said even the most enlightened teachers still have moments when they get angry, or get 'hooked" by something, but that the more we practice meditation and have tools, we find that so many of the things in life that used to drive us crazy, no longer have that power.
That is what I felt about that certified letter. I didn't feel nothing, I just felt "okay, well, this is something to deal with." This is such a huge shift for me. I admit that I used to be and can still occasionally be a bit of a drama queen, but now I have tools and I know that I can always make a call to a good friend (which is what I did earlier in the day yesterday when I was having trouble with a real estate deal) or go for a walk, or listen to a tape, or go to the gym, or do yoga, or get a neck massage (I did that Thursday). Dancing is also a great way for me to let go of everything that has hooked me during the day.
I wonder if the Buddha ever did swing dancing?
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Life today
Last night, I was watching "The Daily Show" and clips from the Republican debate. What can you say about these debates other than you wish these people were running for office in another country? Some country whose name you can't pronounce, preferably on another planet.
I've been to Occupy Wall Street a few times, marched, I'm glad that they have have managed to change the conversation from what it was a few months ago (the debt ceiling) to jobs and the issue of money and inequality, but it's hard not to feel incredibly hopeless about how we are going to fix the mess we're in.
I'd like to make this blog funnier. I'm grateful that people like Jon Stewart, Bill Maher and Steven Colbert can find humor in the political scene. I am still reeling from seeing "Miss Representation" - the documentary about women in our culture, the way we are portrayed, the lack of power we have even though we are 51% of the population. I'd love to be able to laugh more, which brings me to news about my play, it is moving along. As Robert at Friends In Deed says, "...totally committed, completely unattached." I hope SE gets to have a production and at this point, it's out of my hands. I'm so grateful for all the people who are working so hard and having meetings to get it up.
We need to laugh. We need to remember what's important and sit quietly with all the feelings. I always try to fight the sadness rather than embrace it. I'm sad that so many people all over the world are struggling.
Pema Chodron says in our meditation practices we can "breathe in suffering and breathe out God." So that's what I try to do every morning in my imperfect practice. I don't know if that helps anyone other than me, but it's good to remember.
I've been to Occupy Wall Street a few times, marched, I'm glad that they have have managed to change the conversation from what it was a few months ago (the debt ceiling) to jobs and the issue of money and inequality, but it's hard not to feel incredibly hopeless about how we are going to fix the mess we're in.
I'd like to make this blog funnier. I'm grateful that people like Jon Stewart, Bill Maher and Steven Colbert can find humor in the political scene. I am still reeling from seeing "Miss Representation" - the documentary about women in our culture, the way we are portrayed, the lack of power we have even though we are 51% of the population. I'd love to be able to laugh more, which brings me to news about my play, it is moving along. As Robert at Friends In Deed says, "...totally committed, completely unattached." I hope SE gets to have a production and at this point, it's out of my hands. I'm so grateful for all the people who are working so hard and having meetings to get it up.
We need to laugh. We need to remember what's important and sit quietly with all the feelings. I always try to fight the sadness rather than embrace it. I'm sad that so many people all over the world are struggling.
Pema Chodron says in our meditation practices we can "breathe in suffering and breathe out God." So that's what I try to do every morning in my imperfect practice. I don't know if that helps anyone other than me, but it's good to remember.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
"Nailed to the present moment"
Today is Tuesday, August 23, 2011. It is 8:50 am, the weather is totally beautiful, not humid, not hot, a perfect day.
Today, Libya is in chaos. The rebels seems to be overthrowing the government, although there are still some questions about how they will manage to actually govern, if they do succeed in getting rid of Qadhafi.
The world economy remains in a tenuous state. There is fighting all over. There is illness and birth and great sadness, and memories of 9/11 as we get closer to the 10th anniversary. Today's weather reminds me of 9/11/01.
This is what I read today in "When Things Fall Apart" by Pema Chodron:
"The trick is to keep exploring and not bail out, even when we find out that something is not what we thought. That's what we're going to discover again and again and again. Nothing is what we thought. I can say that with great confidence. Emptiness is not what we thought. Neither is mindfulness or fear. Compassion - not what we thought. Love, Buddha nature. Courage. These are code words for things we don't know in our minds, but any of us could experience them. These are words that point to what life really is when we let things fall apart and let ourselves be nailed to the present moment."
Whatever we are feeling in the present moment, is good. Yesterday afternoon, I was feeling some discomfort and I didn't enjoy it. But I sat with it and then I had a conversation with a friend who had also had some difficult feelings during the day - and before too long, we were both laughing and somehow the feelings lifted. I remember saying, if I just let the feelings in and don't fight them, somehow they lift. After we hung up, I received an email thanking me for something I'd said in an earlier email and that totally lifted my spirits.
Today I will live in the present moment and experience whatever shows up. But first I will buy dog food.
Today, Libya is in chaos. The rebels seems to be overthrowing the government, although there are still some questions about how they will manage to actually govern, if they do succeed in getting rid of Qadhafi.
The world economy remains in a tenuous state. There is fighting all over. There is illness and birth and great sadness, and memories of 9/11 as we get closer to the 10th anniversary. Today's weather reminds me of 9/11/01.
This is what I read today in "When Things Fall Apart" by Pema Chodron:
"The trick is to keep exploring and not bail out, even when we find out that something is not what we thought. That's what we're going to discover again and again and again. Nothing is what we thought. I can say that with great confidence. Emptiness is not what we thought. Neither is mindfulness or fear. Compassion - not what we thought. Love, Buddha nature. Courage. These are code words for things we don't know in our minds, but any of us could experience them. These are words that point to what life really is when we let things fall apart and let ourselves be nailed to the present moment."
Whatever we are feeling in the present moment, is good. Yesterday afternoon, I was feeling some discomfort and I didn't enjoy it. But I sat with it and then I had a conversation with a friend who had also had some difficult feelings during the day - and before too long, we were both laughing and somehow the feelings lifted. I remember saying, if I just let the feelings in and don't fight them, somehow they lift. After we hung up, I received an email thanking me for something I'd said in an earlier email and that totally lifted my spirits.
Today I will live in the present moment and experience whatever shows up. But first I will buy dog food.
Friday, August 19, 2011
Fear, and more fear
I imagine there's a way to look up how many times "fear" has appeared in the title of these blog posts. Many times, I am certain, would be the answer.
It's a constant, although not always acknowledged part of everyone's lives, I believe. And the more you try to live a more conscious life, the more you are aware of it. This doesn't mean it should stop you from taking risks and enjoying life, but it does mean you have to learn how to live with fear.
"Intimacy with Fear" is the title of the first chapter of "When Things Fall Apart."
"If we want to go beneath the surface and practice without hesitation, it is inevitable that at some point we will experience fear."
Yesterday we met with two general managers to talk about the play and where it should go next. It all sounded great - they are enthusiastic and interested and believe it has definite commercial potential. As our director says, "We have a lot of ducks to get in a row." Fortunately, we only need to get one duck at a time.
In Steve Chandler's book, "Time Warrior" he quotes Michael Jordan:
"I've missed more than 9,000 shots in my career. I've lost more than 300 games. Twenty-six times I've been trusted to take the game-winning shot and missed. I've failed over and over and over again in my life...and that's why I succeed."
Last night, I found out from a dear friend that her husband has been in and out of the hospital much of the summer. I am thinking of her and praying for them both. I hope I can do more than that, but for right now, that's all I can do.
It's a constant, although not always acknowledged part of everyone's lives, I believe. And the more you try to live a more conscious life, the more you are aware of it. This doesn't mean it should stop you from taking risks and enjoying life, but it does mean you have to learn how to live with fear.
"Intimacy with Fear" is the title of the first chapter of "When Things Fall Apart."
"If we want to go beneath the surface and practice without hesitation, it is inevitable that at some point we will experience fear."
Yesterday we met with two general managers to talk about the play and where it should go next. It all sounded great - they are enthusiastic and interested and believe it has definite commercial potential. As our director says, "We have a lot of ducks to get in a row." Fortunately, we only need to get one duck at a time.
In Steve Chandler's book, "Time Warrior" he quotes Michael Jordan:
"I've missed more than 9,000 shots in my career. I've lost more than 300 games. Twenty-six times I've been trusted to take the game-winning shot and missed. I've failed over and over and over again in my life...and that's why I succeed."
Last night, I found out from a dear friend that her husband has been in and out of the hospital much of the summer. I am thinking of her and praying for them both. I hope I can do more than that, but for right now, that's all I can do.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Chaos should be regarded as extremely good news
In the reading this morning of "When Things Fall Apart," Pema Chodron's introduction to the book includes some quotes from Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche, her Buddhist teacher:
"Making friends with our own demons, and their accompanying insecurity leads to a very simple, understated relaxation and joy."
I really hope that someday, I can honestly say I've found this to work in my life. Right now, I am pretty far from the experience of "a very simple, understated relaxation and joy."
Rinpoche also gave her the instruction to relax and write. At the time, she never imagined that she would be able to. She has spent many years now doing just that - so I think that there is hope.
Her year of "doing nothing" in 1995, as she explains in the introduction, led her to one of her most important books, "When Things Fall Apart."
"If your life is chaotic and stressful, there's plenty of advice here for you. If you're in transition, suffering from loss, or just fundamentally restless, these teachings are tailor made. The main point is that we all need to be reminded and encouraged to relax with whatever arises and bring whatever we encounter to the path."
The first time I read the book, I was in transition. The second time I was suffering from loss. Now, I am just fundamentally restless. My life has moved forward in a very challenging way, but I am still feeling fear and discomfort sometimes. I think that this is life - and I am learning how to sit with it and not try to escape it.
The final quote:
"Chaos should be regarded as extremely good news."
"Making friends with our own demons, and their accompanying insecurity leads to a very simple, understated relaxation and joy."
I really hope that someday, I can honestly say I've found this to work in my life. Right now, I am pretty far from the experience of "a very simple, understated relaxation and joy."
Rinpoche also gave her the instruction to relax and write. At the time, she never imagined that she would be able to. She has spent many years now doing just that - so I think that there is hope.
Her year of "doing nothing" in 1995, as she explains in the introduction, led her to one of her most important books, "When Things Fall Apart."
"If your life is chaotic and stressful, there's plenty of advice here for you. If you're in transition, suffering from loss, or just fundamentally restless, these teachings are tailor made. The main point is that we all need to be reminded and encouraged to relax with whatever arises and bring whatever we encounter to the path."
The first time I read the book, I was in transition. The second time I was suffering from loss. Now, I am just fundamentally restless. My life has moved forward in a very challenging way, but I am still feeling fear and discomfort sometimes. I think that this is life - and I am learning how to sit with it and not try to escape it.
The final quote:
"Chaos should be regarded as extremely good news."
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
When Things Fall Apart - again
A few years ago I read Pema Chodron's book "When Things Fall Apart" when I was going through the most difficult time of my life and it helped me enormously. I underlined it and re-read it and it was one of the ways I survived the break-up of my marriage, my mother's death and my daughter moving away from home.
I decided now is a good time to re-read it and so every day I'm going to read just one page and some days I will write about it. Today I read the first page of the introduction and Pema mentions that in 1995 she took a sabbatical and "essentially did nothing." She read and hiked and slept. She meditated and wrote. She said she had no agenda, and no shoulds. That alone sounds like a great accomplishment in a society that values achievement, to step back and take time off. I wonder if that was also the year she spent in silence. I wish I could do something like that and maybe someday I will.
She also spent the year reading the writing she had done over the years from her teachings and she discovered that she talked a great deal about maitri (loving kindness towards oneself) and from that practice, a fearless compassionate attitude towards others' pain.
Last night I went to Friends In Deed's Tuesday night group and it was a very large meeting (they are about to go on vacation, so I guess many people felt the need to be there.) I noticed how much compassion I felt towards most people, but there was one person whose pain was so intense, it made me uncomfortable. I have to work on that, because sometimes pain is extremely intense and unbearable. I did feel compassion, but I also had a difficult time allowing myself to connect with this particular woman. She is definitely in a period of "groundlessness" - uncharted territory.
In Pema's words, "dissolving the dualistic tension between us and them, this and that, good and bad, by inviting in what we usually avoid" - made me think about how I reacted to this woman. And I hope that during these next few weeks, she will be able to cope with all the fear and find her way through a maze of doctors and treatments and decisions.
I decided now is a good time to re-read it and so every day I'm going to read just one page and some days I will write about it. Today I read the first page of the introduction and Pema mentions that in 1995 she took a sabbatical and "essentially did nothing." She read and hiked and slept. She meditated and wrote. She said she had no agenda, and no shoulds. That alone sounds like a great accomplishment in a society that values achievement, to step back and take time off. I wonder if that was also the year she spent in silence. I wish I could do something like that and maybe someday I will.
She also spent the year reading the writing she had done over the years from her teachings and she discovered that she talked a great deal about maitri (loving kindness towards oneself) and from that practice, a fearless compassionate attitude towards others' pain.
Last night I went to Friends In Deed's Tuesday night group and it was a very large meeting (they are about to go on vacation, so I guess many people felt the need to be there.) I noticed how much compassion I felt towards most people, but there was one person whose pain was so intense, it made me uncomfortable. I have to work on that, because sometimes pain is extremely intense and unbearable. I did feel compassion, but I also had a difficult time allowing myself to connect with this particular woman. She is definitely in a period of "groundlessness" - uncharted territory.
In Pema's words, "dissolving the dualistic tension between us and them, this and that, good and bad, by inviting in what we usually avoid" - made me think about how I reacted to this woman. And I hope that during these next few weeks, she will be able to cope with all the fear and find her way through a maze of doctors and treatments and decisions.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Groundlessness
I finally had time to watch the entire Bill Moyers interview with Pema Chodron and it really was such a fantastic learning experience.
She talked about several concepts - the one I want to talk about now is "groundlessness." It's when something happens in your life that is so difficult, like a serious illness, or the loss of someone you love, or a divorce, anything that shakes you up and causes you to feel like the ground beneath your feet is gone - and at first you feel scared, but later on you come to realize how important that experience is to your personal growth.
I can't imagine what my life would be like now if I hadn't been through these past two and a half years of fear, anxiety and challenge. I would be living an unhappy life instead of an awake, scary and one day at a time kind of life. I wouldn't have done all the reading and seeking I've done, I wouldn't have learned about standing on my own two feet again, I wouldn't have allowed myself the time to grieve and I wouldn't have moved through what felt like both a nightmare and a test.
It's something I really want to write about and I'm trying to write about it - but I think I still need a little more distance before I can really do it justice. I'm glad I kept this blog, even though I couldn't always write everything I wanted to write, I wrote enough to serve as a reminder of where I was and where I am now.
Grateful. Filled with gratitude for the challenges. And I'm happier, even though I miss my daughter and my mother. I'm going to see Zoe in two months and I am so excited to see her again. And I talk to my mother now and then and she doesn't have anything too annoying to say, so that's pretty nice.
She talked about several concepts - the one I want to talk about now is "groundlessness." It's when something happens in your life that is so difficult, like a serious illness, or the loss of someone you love, or a divorce, anything that shakes you up and causes you to feel like the ground beneath your feet is gone - and at first you feel scared, but later on you come to realize how important that experience is to your personal growth.
I can't imagine what my life would be like now if I hadn't been through these past two and a half years of fear, anxiety and challenge. I would be living an unhappy life instead of an awake, scary and one day at a time kind of life. I wouldn't have done all the reading and seeking I've done, I wouldn't have learned about standing on my own two feet again, I wouldn't have allowed myself the time to grieve and I wouldn't have moved through what felt like both a nightmare and a test.
It's something I really want to write about and I'm trying to write about it - but I think I still need a little more distance before I can really do it justice. I'm glad I kept this blog, even though I couldn't always write everything I wanted to write, I wrote enough to serve as a reminder of where I was and where I am now.
Grateful. Filled with gratitude for the challenges. And I'm happier, even though I miss my daughter and my mother. I'm going to see Zoe in two months and I am so excited to see her again. And I talk to my mother now and then and she doesn't have anything too annoying to say, so that's pretty nice.
Friday, August 12, 2011
Letting go of rage
The other day I found out that my ex husband did something that really made me angry. I won't go into it, because I don't want to hurt anyone, but I will say dealing with anger is always a challenge for me. I don't like it.
So this morning, in my daily meditation, along with the challenge of just breathing and not letting this one incident hijack the meditation, I inhaled the anger and rage I was feeling and then I moved onto the situation in the horn of Africa, and the millions who are suffering and dying there, and the violence in the Congo, and then I breathed in the rioting in London and the rage of people there who are angry at their government, and then I breathed in the Tea Party and the Republicans, and the Democrats who seem to lack the courage to fight, and I tried to pretty cover the entire world in my meditation, breathing in the problems and breathing out the light. This is one of Pema's teachings, that all of us could connect in our meditation and she writes about it "Practicing Peace in Times of War."
Do I feel better? Not so much. But I do feel more grounded and ready to face my day. And fortunately for me, the overwhelming feeling I have in my life now is not anger, it's gratitude and appreciation.
So this morning, in my daily meditation, along with the challenge of just breathing and not letting this one incident hijack the meditation, I inhaled the anger and rage I was feeling and then I moved onto the situation in the horn of Africa, and the millions who are suffering and dying there, and the violence in the Congo, and then I breathed in the rioting in London and the rage of people there who are angry at their government, and then I breathed in the Tea Party and the Republicans, and the Democrats who seem to lack the courage to fight, and I tried to pretty cover the entire world in my meditation, breathing in the problems and breathing out the light. This is one of Pema's teachings, that all of us could connect in our meditation and she writes about it "Practicing Peace in Times of War."
Do I feel better? Not so much. But I do feel more grounded and ready to face my day. And fortunately for me, the overwhelming feeling I have in my life now is not anger, it's gratitude and appreciation.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Change of title
I don't know if my new title "Pre-meditated: Pema and me" will be acceptable to Blogger, but I thought I'd give it a try.
I started this blog and wanted it to be about meditation and Pema Chodron's writings and somehow life got in the way. But now I want to keep my focus again on meditation and I'd write more, but Lucy really needs to go for a walk.
In these difficult times, meditation seems to be the best answer for so many people. Sit with the feelings, the fears.
I started this blog and wanted it to be about meditation and Pema Chodron's writings and somehow life got in the way. But now I want to keep my focus again on meditation and I'd write more, but Lucy really needs to go for a walk.
In these difficult times, meditation seems to be the best answer for so many people. Sit with the feelings, the fears.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Smile at Fear
I watched "Smile at Fear" a talk Pema Chodron gave last night and thought I'd post it here. It's worth watching.
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