Beauty and Trust

I sat tonight at the botanical garden with a beautiful friend, listening to a lovely singer-songwriter play.   Hawks and hummingbirds were in the audience.  The temperature released its oppressive stranglehold.  And I thought to myself, yep, all is right.

And I'm thinking about my own views on beauty.  I have seen more beauty in this world as I've slowed to look around this year than I have in a long time.  It's been refreshing, revitalizing, and renewed my capacity for wonder and enchantment.  However, I lose sight of what's around me at times.  I lost my feelings of gratitude and bliss for a couple of days--succumbing to fears, ancient defense mechanisms, and frustration with myself because of this.  Thankfully, I have been conscious enough of late to at least recognize when I lose consciousness.

Today's yoga theme was focused around the idea that every interaction we have is an opportunity to create a beautiful work of art--that we are able to create beauty in every moment, every shared expression, and in our poses, our conversation and our actions.  There are times when I'm feeling raw and exposed and I would like to simply hide from the world.  And I'm sure that my fellow humans would be happier if I did sometimes.  :)  However, I'm also recognizing that there is a generosity of spirit in those I surround myself with, and that fissures and flaws are allowed.  Who knew?

And I continue to think about what I project into the world.  I'm hoping it's mostly positive, but also know that there are times when I have some work to do.  I can't excuse myself, but I can continue to do the work necessary to bring myself back to right, so I can shine out what I believe instead of what I fear.
If I want to have an open heart, then...well, I need to keep it open in all circumstances.  I have an awfully easy time saying that I have courage when there aren't any situations in my life that demand it.  If I want authentic connections in my life?  Well, I'm going to have to let myself be seen.  We all are.  And, really, who would have it any other way?

I turned to my friend tonight as the sun was setting, highlighting the hawk's nest in the tree above us, and as a woman smiled and sang her heart, and I said, "we have a truly beautiful life."  And we do.  This is my truth.

No Judgment

Is it really possible to live without judging yourself?  I am truly hoping so.  I realize there are layers to my experience when I feel like I've screwed up:  1)  I acknowledge that I haven't been fully present and have acted in a way I don't like; 2) I beat myself up for it; 3) I let my mind run rampant--"geez, how could you be so stupid"; 4)  I apologize, but think there's no way the other person is not judging me and cataloging my flaws.  I've been sifting through this and realize there's no way I would judge someone else as harshly as myself, and also realize that what I do is make something small about ten times larger than it needs to be.

I keep trying to develop my courage to be imperfect...to recognize that I screw up, and that it's okay, because, really, who doesn't?  But, and there's a big "but" here, it's a challenge.  It's easy with people who've known and loved me for years--and I've surrounded myself with these people all year.  It's more difficult to let new friends see all of who I am.  I finally built up a little armor this year, and now that I need to let some of it down, this requires a whole new negotiation.  I have counted myself hugely lucky to have been spending time with someone who I feel totally free to be myself with, but realized recently that this applied only when I didn't feel I had said or done the "wrong" thing. This level of vulnerability is much different than being fully transparent in front of people who've seen through me many times.

I think, though, that it's not a matter of being afraid of being imperfect (I'm pretty clear on who I am and I kinda like me), it's not trusting that new people I engage with are who they say they are, or that they accept me exactly as I am.  I need to remember to put this baggage down.  I like to think I'm a pretty good judge of character, but, as history will attest, this doesn't always extend to the men I let in my life.  Maybe part of growing up is realizing that I have grown in this area too, and that people I allowed in my life in the past are most certainly not people I would engage with now...Still, this takes some doing for me.

As I continue to unpack these ideas, I am not sure why I find it necessary to qualify so many things.  I like to eat junk food sometimes.  I like to have a glass of wine (or two) on occasion.  I like to lounge about my house and do nothing when I feel like it.  I don't mind if my house gets messy sometimes.  Why not just accept that this is who I am and not worry?  I am rewiring the tape that plays in my head, and realizing that most of it is not even my tape--it's as if I've adopted, through osmosis, the ideas of another that were handed to me way too often in the past decade  ("You're not _____ enough.  Shouldn't you be _____?")  I don't think these messages deserve any more power.

So...solution?  Explanation and communication--and reminding myself that I'm not an asshole, but sometimes screw up when I'm not paying attention.   A friend recently reminded me that I should assume positive intentions, and I realize I have to hope that this assumption is extended to me as well.  It's funny, I apply these presuppositions to perfect strangers--people who cut me off in traffic or don't see me while I'm riding my bike, but I don't always have the same perspective when dealing with relationships that feel more vulnerable.  More work to do.  Wouldn't it be so cool if there was an endpoint to the work?  That every new situation didn't come with its own new learning?  :)  Nope.

Past in Present

Times of transition and new beginnings offer space for reflection.  I've been sifting through research done a decade ago as I rewrite my dissertation proposal for the coming school year.  I'm amazed at how lucid my thinking was and how my current goals are simply extensions of the stories I've been wanting to tell since I began teaching--allowing the voices of students to speak for themselves and offer insight.

A decade ago, I wrote about my experience teaching on the Navajo reservation:  "I watched myself change.  It will take some time to recover, but when I do I will be stronger than I ever thought possible.  I have been furious, I have been sad, but I have also felt triumphant and cried from happiness."

It appears that my biggest moments of growth occur when I am forced to confront truly incongruous ideas and ideals.  The conflict, for me, offers up insight that I couldn't come to in any other way.

This mirrors my experience with marriage and divorce.  I will carry the experience with me into my future.  It informs who I am and how I live.  I have emerged, however, with an even stronger clarity about life, love, and myself than I thought possible.  A year has passed, but it's been one of those years when every week is a month.  I said goodbye to my therapist last month, and she and I spent some time laughing about where I'd been:  Remember the "this is all my fault" phase?  Or, "here is where you finally got angry...I'd been waiting for that..." and "thank god, here's where you realized this wasn't about you..."  And we recognized the fact that every single step was necessary to move forward intact.  And the beauty is that when you process all of your shit as it surfaces, you get to emerge freely and fully.  And you get to choose what informs your next move.  The past doesn't own you; it just provides some really cool insight.  I love my life.

And I love every bit of my past that informs who I am.  I'm not proud of everything, but I wouldn't trade.

And I am reminded of an encounter I had with a young person, and one that reminds me that we are all magic...even when we forget it:
"I am a queen.  Do you want to bow for me?" she asked.
I did and I will again, I am certain.  She, at 3 feet 7 inches is the most imposing figure in the room. 
"I am a cowboy now.  Check it out."  And she is: the swagger, head cocked to the left and eyes squinted for an ensuing gunfight.
"You are magic," I said.
"I know," she replied.

Hopefully, our past will always inform our present...

We are magic.  And every step in life is making us more so.  Every single one...even when it feels like a misstep.  Here's to self-correction, to beauty, to recognizing the beauty in ourselves...and to allowing others to see it.

Capacity, Possibility and Abundance...whew

There are moments when we shrink our capacity, when we expand it, and when we completely seal ourselves off.  In conversations with friends of late, I'm noticing that we're all continually revising our willingness to engage in different experiences in life based on our capacity:  emotional, physical, spiritual, etc. The trap I fell into for a long time was not acknowledging that there were moments when I was full up and couldn't take on any more...and kept taking on more anyway.

I'm proud of us for questioning, for prioritizing, and for saying no when we can and should.

When we can be in spaces we can truly inhabit, and not lose ourselves in constant movement, we can fully see possibility...

And as this school year comes to a close, I realize that there are so many lessons I've learned that I wouldn't trade for anything in this world:
1.  It's completely acceptable to let others know you need them.
2.  It's more than acceptable to set boundaries for what you will and will not do.
3.  Happiness is not something to feel guilty for.
4.  The grass is never greener.  We all stand on our own ground, and it is exactly right.
5.  When you least expect it, bliss will hit you.
6.  We all deserve these moments.

If someone had told me last year at this time that I would feel this light and completely aware of all of the abundance around me, I wouldn't have believed them.  I also know that had I not processed the world and my own experiences as I did (though some of my reactions to circumstances leave me feeling sheepish), I would not be able to walk out as comfortably.  Robert Frost's statement, "the best way out is always through" hits home just about now.

Lest I come across as all Pollyanna, I recognize that this is not a permanent state.  But I was reminded by a lovely friend this evening, as I started to move forward into all I have to do soon, to simply bask for a moment in the completion of one task...and enjoy it for a moment.  And I will.

Stability in Motion

In the midst of things that are ever changing, the opportunity to feel stability is a gift.  I have quit seeing stability as something static.  How could it be?  Those who try to force it to be are the one's who seem the least stable (I know that when I've tried to hold tightly to a state, I'm generally left with lots and lots of matter swirling around me--and smacking me in the face).

And so I've been playing with the idea that I will find stability only as I accept that there is nothing that is static.  This theme has resurfaced, yes, but I'm noting its recurrence and honoring that.

In the past two weeks, I've gone from carrying the most stress I've ever lugged around to a feeling of lightness I didn't know was possible after a year (almost to the date) of weight.  I've been curious about this link between the emotional and physical reactions...realizing that my body would take over if I refused to process feelings...and it wasn't pretty.  The emotions weren't and aren't linked to a demise of a relationship--that's a comfortable and necessary state at this point.  I have no regrets. The emotions were tied to the fact that someone who wished me harm, and who isn't operating on a plane I understand, still had control of certain aspects of my life.  It was difficult to live with (understatement).  With this lifted, giddiness ensued.  And then compassion.  And then giddiness.  And then compassion.  And at that moment, I realized I had set it down--not just for the moment, as I have before, but forever.  I have had a tendency to extend way too much compassion to others and very little to myself.  BUT, in the moment I'm speaking of, I found myself joyous for myself and feeling compassion for an other.  And at that moment, I realized how truly truly free I was.

This marriage of joyousness and compassion may be the answer.  Who knows?  I do know I'm hard pressed to make any huge declarations of late, but that may be as close as I get to certainty for a while.

Pause

I feel as if I'm at that moment when the conductor has his baton raised, but the music has paused at the end of a movement.  I would like this pause to last for a week, but I can feel the next movement about to follow.  I'm not wary of the next section, but I would like for the rest at the end of this line to last just a little longer so I can catch my breath, and lay my bow on my lap. (Or sleep, get a massage, and soak in a hot spring, repeat).

It's amazing how much work can go into things that are unseen.  I breathe freely and with relief.   I smile and soften.  I am soon to be ready for movement beyond the pause.

Surprises

I am easily enchanted by the world around me:  The yellow flame of the palo verde bloom, cottonwood leaves fluttering, finches on the feeder in the morning...yet those who know me well know that although I am highly appreciative of the natural world, there are times when my understanding of this world (from a scientific stance) leaves something to be desired.  Instead of fully understanding a phenomenon, I more likely will create a fantastical story to explain it:  I may be a creator of 21st century mythology, ignoring modern understandings.

I have been paying attention, however, to certain occurrences in my days, and fully reveling in reality:
1)  I saw a gila monster (http://animals.nationalgeographic.com/animals/reptiles/gila-monster/) Thursday night on a hike with Lyle.  This was a fun surprise (though was glad my dog was smart enough to take a step back, and I had to text a friend to ascertain that this was indeed what I had seen).  A gorgeous animal, a lizard the size of my arm...red and gray and hissing.  He was slow moving and was kind enough to let us know that we simply didn't need to harass him in any way, and we could walk away unscathed.  We agreed.

2)  I've been spending time with a friend who makes me laugh so hard my stomach hurts (both a lovely gift and a wonderful surprise), who is wise and smart (as we know,  these are two very different things).  I find that when I spend time with people who can move through the world comfortably in their own skin, I can be fully myself, with no artifice or apology.

3) My students surprise me every day--their words and their responses to tasks I ask them to complete surprise me in the best possible way--those moments when what you hoped was going to happen, indeed, does.

There's an interesting balance to be struck between believing that great things will happen, but allowing yourself to be surprised when they do anyway.

Surprises can be surprises because we let them.  I have thought a lot about how my yoga practice allows me to be better prepared off the mat...to breathe through the negative surprises (and to ask myself:  what about that really surprised you?)  as well as the positive and embrace them all.  I am trying very hard to not be caught off guard by events that don't necessarily engender calm feelings in me.  I have been tripped up a couple of times in the last few days.  I wonder at this, but also know I am not superhuman.  And I cope as I do.  No judgment.  This, in itself, is new for me.  Too often I've beaten myself up for not having as much grace as I'd like in the face of certain life events.  These fissures, however, are just part of being human; maybe I can reframe this and become more and more proud of my own fallibility.  I can at least try.