This writing feels didactic and I question why am I putting into words a philosophy of one? I don’t know. Maybe just a sticker on a map. Maybe a look in the mirror. For some reason, this morning, I’m covering myself in a humble patchwork quilt of pieces of practice\al philosophy gathered from one set of feet, one pair of eyes, marching through the time of a life in a body.
It’s okay – I’ll let it flow, for no good reason and then move on to the next thing…
Starting here: No matter how much circumstances seem contrary to okay, life is ultimately okay.
Okayness is true as seen from the small still point inside of me that is never not there.
This still point is within, a radiant, patient sun inside the solar system of me around which everything in the show revolves. Remembering this point, learning to dwell from this point, gives me the stability of moving within the world with more spaciousness even in the moments that seem chaotic or in crisis. This space accepts me “back” to this point, no matter how long I’ve forgotten that I am dwelling here; thank goodness, it’s always accessible and open for business. We are always here, actually, but there is some aspect of taking on this life that allows us to forget. Mysterious this!
Life is a ride, “a” not “THE” ride. Here, a clue in the articles – each one of us on a ride, the whole (of me and of us) ride is beyond my comprehension.
It used to seem like a long ride, but it is ever more clear that this ride is not very long at all.
The body has a mind of its own. It is best to recognize this and communicate with it (through it) by learning to dwell in the body’s awareness as much as possible. Wordless wisdom comes through the body suit – profound messages, information, and access to God (our spacious still point again) is through the body, not from somewhere else. Though it may feel like indigestion, a muscle cramp, dread in a seizing stomach, the body has a language all its own. I’ve been learning to inhabit this body garment and finally listen after so many years to the wordless words of a billion cells in symphony to make this ride of me.
I’ve been told I am loved, and I have enormous confirmations of this; however, some dynamic of this ride allows me to forget this, to feel so alone, and so vulnerable to harm, to hurt, to hopelessness.
The shifting of perspective – that’s it – changes what I think is happening. BUT hearing this idea might not help. This life is a 3d riddle, an optical illusion, a Escher painting lived.
What is real is difficult to determine, perhaps impossible to determine, with reason alone. Real is known within – when within is not obstructed by false thoughts which make real difficult to perceive.
Breath centers.
Center knows truth because it is truth itself – our flame that can’t go out.
Until there is not breath, there is stilla chance one can clear obstruction to truth.
Other people and life circumstance (including leaky roofs, ahmmm) are a reflection of where I am and how I am perceiving. From the center point, I exist from a space from where, in interactions, I have a room that gives perspective in real time. I can see from this spot the deeper thread and zoomed out view at once more clearly which gives me pause in micro-time before I move with words or action which provides more skill and ease and compassion. When I am not moving from this space, I can observe my tendency to rush or soothe or dismiss or avoid, as well, so all motion in the world is teaching at all times.
This is just some truth from this one spot along the way. Marking the map with “I am Here, Now” this morning, as it rains and shines and the temperature falls and rises – ever instructing our skin. Blessings for us all, sisters and brothers. Which version fits today?
When I saw it on the ground, I kept walking and I smirked a bit, I admit, thinking of the smart ass things one could write on the note and leave back on his/her car.
On my way back the note was still there, waiting for me to pick it up.
The receiver of such a message might have never even seen it, judging from it’s sidewalk location.
So much here in these few words…
This note expresses displeasure and perhaps, he/she did have quite a difficult time trying to get through the car door. It is annoying when some seem so oblivious to the idea of sharing space with others. But I also imagine being on the receiving end of this note. Would this note cause the receiver to park differently next time? Would the humanity shared be bridged here?
I don’t think so.
I know all about annoying behavior. I am so annoying. I know I am. My daughters say I repeat myself over and over again, which sends their impatience through the roof. I don’t mean to, but often, there are misunderstandings if I don’t – rides needed that never show up, missed events, items forgotten…
Sharing space is tricky for me.
I have been overcoming clausterphobia since moving off the boat. This condition has caused me to allow the voice in my mind to tell me that I can’t breath and I need to escape any way possible to get out of elevators, cars, classrooms…In this state of mind, there is actually no oxygen. In these moments of blindness, human angels have appeared to me, helping me to breath, short breath in, long breath out. A math professor across the hall, whom I have only seen in passing, got in my face, “Darth Vader” breaths he said. And by helping me CLOSELY in this way, he helped me shift to where there was oxygen again, room in my lungs to take it in. Breath. Life. Space. Options. Possibility.
Sometimes when my mind said it needed space, it actually needed the help of someone coming closer, as close as possible. Paradoxical, that.
Right now my daughter and I are head to head. I feel held over a barrel of ego and distortion through an incorrect lens. This makes me want to get out; the circular dynamic feels as if it takes all oxygen from the room, from the world…and yet if I can rest in the state of being (not mind) where there is breath, life, space, possibility – I can move in closer.
Could I park any closer to the shadows in my life?
Nope.
Addendum: Just found my therapy session for my claustrophobia.
Life as Improv 