Will you spend your here and now with me?
Where yesterday is but a memory
And tomorrow, too far away to see
Right here and now where there’s only we
The only place I want to be
Is right here and now.
Will you spend your here and now with me?
Where my thoughts become like poetry
Where time dissolves so easily
Where Love allows my mind to see
There is only here and now.
From the monthly theme blog I write at Nourishing Storm. . . go check them out!
On what? Where? The universe is always throwing signs. But I’m not sure if I am reading them right. My world keeps spinning. Pulling me in all directions. I’m not even sure I know what I want or where I want to be, how can I know where to look?
To what? How do I know I’m connected to my highest self and not my neediest self? And really, shouldn’t I be doing something a bit more productive?
Really? Beauty. Okay. Like that’s not a total waste of time when I’m financially crumbling and mentally exhausted and tired from fighting the world and its ways. Sure… beauty. I’ll get right on that.
Strength is sucking it up and carrying the weight. As much as I can carry for as long as I have to carry it. The world may have packed my bags with a bunch of stuff I’ll never wear but if I don’t carry it around, who will?
Oh yeah, that idealistic little voice that gets all excited about dreams and schemes and new ideas. Silly romantic that knows nothing of how this world works. Yeah, let me get her going and give her a listen! I’m sure she has some wonderfully sane advice to give… Um, yeah right.
Presence. Oh wait, you mean right now? What is happening right now? It’s actually a nice day. At this very second, nothing is happening to me. Anything I’ve been angry, anxious or upset about is either in the past, in the future (maybe) or out of my power to change anyways. Hmmm. Actually I’m pretty okay right now.
Try try again…
Doesn’t have to be a goal or a destination. Focus on something still and solid. Family. Friends. Love. Some Truth in your life. Your Inner Drishti. See it?
Now that you see it, sit with it. Breathe with it. Nothing more. No judgement. No expectations. It doesn’t need that. And you don’t either. It is just a constant in your life that brings you home. You need only sink into its stillness and let it balance you. The connection is found in this balance. With no worry or fear or attachment to the end game. Just tuned in and open.
Got your balance? Good. Now that you have your ground and the world can’t spin you in circles, take a look around. See the beauty. In this this life, in this moment, in yourself. It’s there. Seek it. It isn’t a waste. It brings with it gratitude.
Found that beauty in your soul? Yeah? Perfect. The soul knows what it needs and what it doesn’t. Drop that baggage you thought made you strong and deadlift the doubts and fears out of your path instead. You don’t have to carry around anything that doesn’t serve you on your journey. Do not waste your strength on things that aren’t yours; things you picked up out of guilt or fear or anger. Let them go. Sometimes that takes more strength than holding on. Never doubt this: You. Are. Strong.
That little excited voice that believes you can do anything isn’t crazy. It knows what you are capable of. Remember any of the hellish places you’ve been in the past? A scary place you once thought was inescapable? You made it through, didn’t you? Over and over, you made it through. You may have a few scars to show for it, but you did it. You can do it again. Know it. Own it. And keep going after the life you want! You got this!
You are here. Like one of those signs with the maps in the mall. See that spot. You are here. You have lots of options. And maybe you don’t know exactly where you want to go yet. But when you figure it out, and you will figure it out, you need to know where you are. You are here. And from here, you can go anywhere you want to go.
Now follow your heart onward, brave soul. Sure, you can stumble. You can go down the wrong path. You can get lost. Hell, you will probably do all three. But you also can pick yourself up. You can turn around. And you can find your truest self, often in the darkest of times. Don’t ever give in or out or up. You are focussed, connected, beautiful, strong, and enthusiastic right here, right now. Believe in yourself with a fierce tenacity. Have persistent faith in you. Seriously. You got this!
I can envision so clearly my grandfather sitting on the couch. Me sitting behind him on the back of the couch. Reaching into his front shirt pocket, next to his eyeglass holder and pen and grabbing his comb. I would comb his gray hair and he would do a crossword puzzle. I would give him a mohawk, a side part and bangs. And he gave me his time, his smile and his love.
For the longest time, I was a spiritual vagabond. And that worked for a while until it didn’t. I needed to claim a space in my busy world and drop roots. I needed to develop a solid practice.
I went to a Quaker gathering and stumbled on workshop about an upcoming Spiritual Formation program. It was just what I was looking for. I signed up immediately.
At the first retreat, we had to choose a personal spiritual practice. Something we could do regularly to tap into our Source. It could be journaling, yoga, meditation. It could be anything. I decided on dishes.
Dishes needed to be done everyday. They never stopped multiplying. I’d no sooner dry the last pan when a new crusty glass would appear in the sink. I began to resent my children’s appetites and wondered how long they could use one glass before I had to worry about food poisoning. Some bacteria exposure is like a workout for the immune system, isn’t it? Yeah, doing dishes sucked.
So it seemed the logical choice. I wouldn’t need to carve out new time for my spiritual practice. It was time I already spent. And I really wanted to transform my experience. I didn’t want to end each night silently cursing my people for their messy ways.
The first night of my practice, I looked at the dishes piled in the sink and inwardly groaned. Determined to change this reaction, I cleared out a space for the clean dishes, placed a mat on the floor by the sink for a little extra comfort and stood silent for a moment. I wasn’t exactly sure how go at it. I decided on starting with a silent prayer of gratitude; gratitude for having dishes to clean in the first place because it meant my family was fed. It meant I had a home with a kitchen and running water. It meant I was blessed.
I put my mind to the task. Picking up the first glass, I let the water run until it was hot and gave it a rinse. I squeezed out a dollop of dish soap and began to wash, mindful of the feeling of the smooth glass and the rough sponge. Mindful of the sound of the water. Mindful of the steam rising and how it felt on my face. I inhaled the scent of the soap. I inspected the glass for any evidence of its use. It was clear and clean and I found myself startled by the beauty of this undervalued object.
I was aware of every sensation, tuned in to the task at hand yet present with my family as they sat in the connected living room. I washed away the grime and fingerprints, the specs of water drops and dried bits of food. And I washed away the endless, useless clutter in my mind. When I was finished, I was satisfied in a way I can’t capture fully in words. It wasn’t that “pride in a job well done”. It was more wholesome. It was a deep feeling of … of what? Peace? Love? Appreciation? Yes. Yes. And yes.
As days went on and the rush of life picked up, I stuck with my practice. My mind didn’t always want to settle on the task. It had another agenda. It wanted to worry or complain or stress over some matter. In those times, I would concentrate solidly on the form of my practice. I wouldn’t try to make my mind turn to prayer or forced gratitude. I’d let it be and instead focus on the physical experience, the process of washing each dish. Sometimes, my mind would give in. Other times it wouldn’t. Some days my mind was tuned in from the start. Those days, the dishes were a breeze. It was all good, even if it wasn’t. In those present moments, in the experience of just washing the dishes, everything was okay.
My husband asked me to leave the dishes for him to do a few nights. I imagined it is because of how serene I looked at the sink. I have wondered since if that really was the case, if I could Scooby Doo the family into doing some other chores. So I added sweeping and packing lunches to my practice. I figured even if no one else was moved to pick up a scrub brush after witnessing my Palmolive-fueled zen, there was no losing. Every chore had become a chance for my heart to open to the moment.
With a busy house living the family circus, I now have endless opportunities to juice up my spiritual battery. There is always more work to be done. I can do it begrudgingly and deplete my stores of lovingkindness or I can tap into life in that moment and recharge. Either way, it has to get done. And fact is, if I don’t recharge, I can never truly be fully available in the moments I spend with the people in my world. And really, they are my world.
So it seems, the dishes have become my dharma. I never would have thought my path to enlightenment would start at my kitchen sink. That I’d find gratitude in soap bubbles. That the garbage disposal could be like my meditation bell. That I’d find peace scraping crud off a fork. Just imagine what great insight the junk drawer may reveal . . .
Here I am. Halfway through this year. A year of tremendous change in my life. I focused on my inner drishti, my Truth and connected to my center, my source. I sought beauty, within and without and found strength of my body and my convictions. Carried by enthusiasm, I took a leap of faith, off of steady ground into unmapped terrain. And here I am.
During the shift, I felt uncertainty, fear and panic. My heart’s initial cry of “OH YESSSS” turned swiftly into “OH CUSSSS”. While there is no mistaking the call of life that drove me to my leap, I struggled with the reality. I knew it was time to leave the steady, secure, passionless life in the cubical. The signs were there, the universe seemed with me. The events that led up to my departure, the feeling of being utterly unvalued for the work, completely affirmed by a cold and inaccurate evaluation of who I am and what I offer. I reached the point that staying was like giving up on who I am and becoming nothing more than an employee number who brings home the bacon. But what if that is what I am supposed to be?
So I’ve never been one for following signs. I’m more of a landmark kinda gal. I’ve missed a few turns along the road waiting to see something familiar. Times where I did follow the road signs and despite knowing for fact I’m on the right road, I will doubt I’m going the right way if I don’t see the landmarks I remember. I’ll feel full on panic. Yep. I stop following the signs when I find myself headed into the unknown.
True on the road and true in life. It took me til now to even write on the chapter on signs. Remember how I was blogging about Sacred Compass? Yeah, well it took me all this time to write about signs precisely because I know I ignore them. Signs in life mean change. Following signs leads to new places. Knowing which signs to follow, it takes a certain amount of grounding and authenticity. Stands to reason a girl who has always questioned her purpose and is easily persuaded has trouble discerning true signs.
Of late, signs have been all around me. I’ve been on a journey these past few months… starting sometime in the fall when I began to deepen my practice of faith and yoga. When I committed to being mindful and present, aware and grateful, honest and real. At the start, there was a set back. A friend lost his son. I questioned my faith in everything as I watched helplessly as hearts and dreams shattered around me. But I somehow held firm to my commitment. I kept the skeleton of my practice going until the spirit of it could come back. Going through the motions, continuing my practice, saved the seat for my faith. And it did come back. And then it carried me through.
When it did, so did an unsettling dissatisfaction with the way I spent a big chunk of my time. It wasn’t a new feeling but it was deeper, maybe with the new understanding that time is so very fragile. I knew soul deep that I was wasting my precious time at my place of work. At first I focused on changing my attitude towards the situation, as I felt I was this whole other being when I was there. And I guess it worked for a time. But the knowing that I am not working towards my fullest potential, toward being my fullest self, would always gnaw at me.
When I started writing the theme blogs for my yoga studio, I incorporated them into my practice. I explored them and married them with my spiritual practice and fixed my eyes on everything I loved in my life. With my eyes on love, the signs started showing up everywhere. But still I resisted. All signs seemed to scream to jump ship. To ditch my steady paycheck with benefits? I’m an adult with a family for God’s sake, I can’t afford to be so reckless. And how do I know it’s not just me seeing what want to see? Right?
By the end of March, the signs were flying. Dreams were vivid. Birds seemed to be talking to me. (Yeah, yeah birds… hokey i know… but true – specifically cardinals…) Random words, fortune cookies, the time it’d always seem to be when I’d glance at the clock or see a sign (11:11 or 12:12 always!). Resisting it felt like a noose around my neck. Everything in my life seemed to culminate to my exodus from the cubical life. A leap that reads pretty tame on the screen, but with nothing to jump on but an idea and riding solely on faith, it’d be scary as hell. But less frightening to me than the idea of staying in a place until I give up on the idea that I can be more and never ever going for it.
So I did it. I Daffy Ducked it right out the side wall. And yeah, it was scary as hell. My first thought, “What the cuss did I just do???” My last day was 4/24. I randomly decide to look up the numerology (because that is what everyone thinks to do on their last day of their steady job that they just up and quit because they were sick of banging their head on the low ceiling…). And this is what I find.
Whaaaatttt? Crazy right? But sweet! Angelic assistance! Yes, please and thank you!
And here I am only about a week into my new life. Remembering my natural gait. So soon I’m back in tune with the rhythm of nature, on top of the pulse of my home. And I’m building my healing practice. And I’m writing…..
Doubts have risen but new signs quickly silence them. I’m open. Open for business, open for possibilities, open for life. I can find another dead end job if I have to. But I can’t risk never taking the chance at something better. This life is calling to my heart. The signs are everywhere. My faith is strong. It’s time.
I sit to write this as winter’s last chill reluctantly gives way to spring. I’ve decided to write freestyle to capture my mind’s wanderings on the subject. Follow where it leads. Seems so fitting considering this month’s theme – Enthusiasm. My pen will follow my mind just as my enthusiasm follows the heart. They typically duel with each other – one an idealist, one a realist. I will try to give voice to both and hopefully find their common ground. And we’re off….
So the ground is near ready for planting. Commitment day is coming. What will I plant in my life’s garden this year?
There are things I would love to see grow to fruition this year. Things that will reseed from last year. Things firmly established, though still mostly dormant, waiting to push through the soil. And there is space to start fresh. There are so many possibilities. It is an exciting time.
There are times when beauty is abundant. When it seems beauty is everywhere I look. But sometimes beauty must be sought. And sometimes it must be cultivated.
When life is good, I find beauty in everything, myself included. But when life gets messy, I must actively seek it. Search it out with focus on gratitude for all that is right. This reconnects me to love.
When things are hectic and I don’t stop to reconnect, my focus jumps from one worry to the next. I make a connection with fear instead. My worries, like weeds, begin to drop roots in love’s place. The deeper the roots of fear, the more frivolous seeking beauty seems. Like some luxury I cannot afford. My worries need my attention, don’t they?
I’ve fallen off the wagon this month. I lost the essence of my practice somewhere in the midst of hectic schedules and mounting deadlines. My focus turned hard and impatient. Perhaps it is that time of year, beginning the transition from winter into spring. I know there is deep work moving through the roots of my practice but I’m itching to see some sprouts.
My focus has been forced and rigid. This type of tunnel vision works well with my brain and gets results in the daily grind. It connects with my body and mind but it eludes, or really, excludes my heart and soul.
Have you found your inner drishti? I finally found mine.
When I began writing for NS last month, I looked at the theme. I meditated on it. I sat with it. I practiced yoga with it as my intention. And in that practice, I found the words for my first post. I didn’t think much at all about the next theme.
As I sat with this theme, I realized that I could not separate this theme from the previous and couldn’t speak on this theme without giving some thought to the next. I realized I hadn’t actually worked with my focus tool, my inner drishti. In fact, I hadn’t even truly explored it. And working with this month’s theme, that realization left me feeling a bit hollow. So I decided to make these themes a part of my practice. My yoga practice, my spiritual practice, my life practice. And I chose the tree pose as my inner drishti. Or so I thought I could.
the.way.i.bee 