elainegrey

Just saw "Great Moms get promoted to Grandmas," on tweet from Skype's corporate account. Tweeted back that it was NOT TRUE.



I was thinking this morning about yesterday's meditation. Clearing the spring is a metaphor and meditation for opening myself to grace, refreshment. Summer heat and light is a metaphor and meditation for courage, heart energy, the ability to carry out a calling.

As i spend so much time imagining a new future for myself, this synthesis of gifts is important.

Our Mono Lake inn keeper sent email asking if there was anything special they could do for our stay: a cat in the room, i replied.

I wrote a few days ago, "i need to ensure i am able to engage in them [hobbies, crafts] deeply instead of flit, flit, flit."

sonia replied, "My immediate response to this was, 'Why? There's nothing wrong with flitting.'"

It's a good question, and, given the day, one i'd like to meditate on at more length.

I know i have a certain need for novelty, but i also have a need for a deeper satisfaction. When i stick with using tools i develop a proficiency that then leads to a pleasure of having a skill.

Part of my flitting is inspired by new school (or art or craft) supplies and the promise of a fresh start, the possibilities the new supplies signify. (Or new books that i don't read or new notebooks i do not write in or new....) I start, and then flit off again. It's very common, i think: the term "UFO" in the yarn world to designate an "Un-Finished Object" points to the temptation even when one stays within a craft. In our culture, for the many who are moderately affluent, it's easier to buy new supplies for a new project than it is to finish an existing project. And if the existing project isn't going quite right, or some of the pleasure has waned, the new project is free of those associations, and exists in the potential of perfection and joy.

So now that i have a new shiny toy, a digital art device, i reflect on the other drawing tablet devices i've bought over the years and have used once or twice, the stacks of supplies, and i want to stick with this and pursue my creation to some level of satisfaction. I'd had a box of 64 crayons and a sketch pad next to my bed for a long time, well over a year, but after discovering an application called Skitch, i'd been doodling on my phone before sleep. It's the consistency with which i used that application -- not very consistent, but consistent enough -- that made me covet the iPad. I had more colors of crayons than i had in the palette on Skitch, but the ease of managing my phone made it easier to use the application to sketch.

Buying such an expensive New Thing did make me think about all the space allocated to the old things, lying fallow. I'd passed on old acrylic paints this fall, keeping the one product line that i really like. I think i could stand to do more lightening. Intensify what i know i enjoy and use, let go of the older dreams that walked through my life.

I can remember a really powerful session scribbling with the crayons, venting anger onto a page. I know that physicality isn't in the tablet. But is that potential need for a future catharsis enough to keep that tool around? I don't think so: i will still have paints to have a tactile physical experience.

Flitting and acquiring are great practices for exploration: i think i want to move on to discovery, be more intentional, let go of dusty habits and tools and decorative items and books.

I can't imagine i will stop trying new things, but new is a fractal experience.

We can look at a young child and recognize a new life, celebrate the newness of a new year, awaken to a new dawn, or even recognize the new beginning available with an intentional deep breath. The cycles within cycles are there, providing new opportunity and novelty wherever one wishes to find it.

So, instead of new tools, new techniques with existing tools. Instead of a new wardrobe, pare away the clutter and worn items to see the core essence of the wardrobe i have. Digest what i read instead of dashing on to the next new bit of information.

There's nothing wrong with flitting: there's a beauty and a joy available there. I'm feeling a need to make a change, like a season shifting, though.

I don't know how much is symbolic, tied to the need for change at work, and how much is tied to spiritual change and practice, and how much is a pragmatic examination of the "total cost of ownership" of stuff.

It's good change though, i think.

Yesterday, i wanted something to watch while i was eating a lunch while Christine dozed. I went to my evernote list and grabbed the oldest thing that had been tagged "@watching," a TED talk that somehow came to my attention on 13 January: http://www.ted.com/talks/lang/eng/brene_brown_on_vulnerability.html

The speaker's self deprecation is entertaining, and there's some dynamic about self-deprecation and the willingness to be vulnerable that seems like a magician's slight of hand trick: I'm vulnerable, but not that vulnerable.

Regardless of how she practices the lessons she's learned, the lessons she shares are powerful.

She spoke of two things that struck me as she explained the dynamics of experiencing connection: one is that the whole-hearted, the people with courage[1], are people who understand they are deserving of being connected to others even with their imperfections. The second was that as she spoke with the whole hearted, they understood the unpredictability, the risk, that entering into connection introduces.

I have a sharp memory of when i had the visceral realization that beauty (not just aesthetic beauty but spiritual beauty) was linked to risking pain. It was in the first semester of college, when i had started taking engineering classes, the "safe" choice at an Engineering school. Under a full moon, in meadows near Meredith Lake, with fog rising, i felt an overwhelming conviction that i needed to risk pain to be authentic (although "authentic" was't part of my vocabulary then). I pledged myself to Beauty that night, and that gave me the clarity to remain in relationship to Christine (leaving for conservatory) and to leave engineering and change my major to Physics.

That was probably twenty five years ago plus a month or so.

It's been twenty years that i have been working at seeing and feeling clearly, peeling away the inherited and learned filters and misunderstandings. And do i see change! Especially in the last five years, working with N with the somatic experiencing modality, i've had such wonderful healing. Simultaneously, i feel joy and frustration: i have grown and changed so much for the better and yet there is still the numbing blanket in my mind that pulls over and makes me hide from connection.

I've been poking my depression with a stick recently. I read what Hyperbole and a Half posted about her depression, yesterday. From that i can tell how much more at ease i am with my depression: i remember the panic and fear i used to have of the depression. I can tell i've learned how shaming and haranguing are not the way out.

Instead i walked yesterday. I sat in front of the lamp this morning. I thought about those things for which i am grateful. I snuggled with cats.

I didn't do any of the things i am procrastinating on doing, but i suppose i accept that.

I wonder about the first quality Brene Brown spoke about: the belief the whole hearted had that they deserved connection. And i suppose i live with a pre-shame, a recognition that i cannot live up to my expectations for myself and that if i enter into connection i know i will let people down.

Can i help myself be willing to face that pain?


[1] Courage is a word i've used in my garden mandala meditation, long before i had an understanding of what it was. I was oblivious to the linguistic linkage of "courage" with "heart" for a long time. Brene Brown spoke of the early definition of courage as being able to tell one's story with a whole heart, which made me raise an eyebrow. I don't have access to the OED at the moment, but i found this definition by Paul Tillich at wikipedia:

"Courage is the self-affirmation of being in spite of the fact of non-being. It is the act of the individual self in taking the anxiety of non-being upon itself by affirming itself ... in the anxiety of guilt and condemnation. ... every courage to be has openly or covertly a religious root. For religion is the state of being grasped by the power of being itself."

The existential statement at the beginning of the quotation resonates with me; his following definition of religion is a curious string of words that intrigues me. Talking about the quotation with Christine (after she had coffee) i realize it's because i think of religion as a system, not a state.

We're cat sitting for a neighbor again, and found her cat had walked through tar at some point yesterday. The other cat-sitting neighbor says the roofs are being patched, and this cat does have a history of getting on the roof. We spent some time soaking the cat's paws in sudsy water (using Dawn, as recommended by the vet tech), and then peeling and cutting away tar. As i showered afterwards, resenting the heavy weight of worry (that Christine carries more heavier than i), i realized that other than the worry, it had been a lovely companionable time with Christine. Caring for critters so deeply is one of the things i adore about her.

The other cat-sitting neighbor knows the cat owner better than we and says we just shouldn't mention this to her. We trust their friendship, although i find myself thinking of the joke with the punchline, "Well, Grandma's on the roof playing with a bird."

In other cat news, i think Edward is licking a spot bald on his back. Oh, Edward!

--==∞==--

During worship yesterday there was an interesting thread of Ministry, a reflection on the query, "How are love and unity maintained among us?" and a question of who is part of the "Beloved community." My meditations on blood-as-transforming-fire, were stirred a bit into deeper metaphor. I thought of my grade school biology and how veins return "oxygen-depleted blood back to the heart." I wondered about the cells that were "downstream" in the network as opposed to the ones upstream where the oxygen-rich blood flows. I recall the capillary network, but what struck me was that "oxygen-rich" and "oxygen-poor" are likely statistical measures. Blood is composed of discrete units, just like "The Meeting" is composed of people. It's convenient to think of "The Meeting" as a thing that can act, just like thinking of the blood carrying oxygen. But the actual process is discreet, cell to cell, i suspect. So i suspect oxygen-poor blood *may* be made up of some cells that have a full oxygen load. Wikipedia is no help here.

The insight is an importance in not judging the load your neighbor carries or the load you yourself carry: some folks' capacities will be used earlier, some later. Another insight is the importance of the individual discrete relationships.

Actually, this morning i don't find the blood metaphor as compelling as i did yesterday. There is some importance in recognizing inclusion in the beloved community is not a function where "The Meeting" decides inclusion or exclusion. It's a relationship built up of discrete networked relationships, and as an individual it's important for one to relate to individuals as well as to the whole and the process of the group.

[Subtext here is a particular person. On one hand, this person has a very deep concern for a particular poor community in Haiti. This person wants to have The Meeting take on this concern, and has spoken as a prophet, calling us all on our wealth and comfort. On the other hand, independent of Quaker process, this strong-willed single-minded individual would be a challenge to work with. In the context of Quaker process, though, this person just doesn't get the concept of submission to group discernment at all, and thinks of unity as "getting others to agree."]

--==∞==--

I've been pondering what is triggering the new organization energy. I do think claiming to be well is a significant element. The sense of the new year helps. But also, I think I now have a better sense of priorities and what needs reminders vs organic organization.

I was actually able to get a couple of loads of laundry done just before Meeting: Christine was left to fold. I also finished winding up the huge balls of purple cotton yarn i'd dyed for a friend.

The swift doesn't function as smoothly as i'd like. ( design notes )

Meeting was good, although self-oriented. I realized that i've "burned" away all (many of) the distracting "shoulds" in my private life. I feel mostly independent of external demands and expectations. I now have room to listen. And then, when i got to my meditation about the gift of wisdom, i felt an overwhelming sense of NOW, a sense that i am now ready to receive that "wisdom." "Wisdom" is a loaded term, and i think my expectations are not of "wisdom of Solomon" type wisdom, but correct prioritization of the moments in my life "wisdom." The Quaker term would be a state of "clearness," "being clear." (I don't think Friends often use the term "clarity" despite the dictionary reporting that the current sense of the word clarity originated in the early 17th century and Friends were formed mid 17th century. Still too newfangled a term for early Friends?)

The overwhelming sense of Now, the sense of a potential way of being that is easier, brought on a huge emotional sense of relief (and the awareness of the held back stresses). I consciously chose to step away from the experience and turned to thinking about crochet and dyeing clothes, and used that as a place of replenishment, before returning to that experience of relief. I think i was able to pace my experience to keep from being completely overwhelmed: and that too is a wonderful sense of competence, of being able to choose not to be completely washed away in emotion.

And, the moments set aside to think creatively were also productive. I came up with a design for my purple altered sweater ( notes )

I also felt inspired about another dye plan: ( dye thoughts )

Errands at meeting and errands on the way home, then lunch watching "Cake Boss," latest guilty pleasure. I ripped out the effusive purple thread work and worked up a proof of principle piece to show my design concept was possible. Called Mom and Dad, groceries, mental prep for the work day including determining my strategy and tactics for dealing with the work surprise from Friday. No exercise but felt exhausted.

Health:( details )

Eyjafjallajokull (ay-yah-FYAH-lah-yer-kuhl)

Yup, need to practice that. If Katla also blows, "the Iceland volcano," will not be a sufficient name. Christine and i have been having fun listening to the occasional streaming news report and noticing the constant elision of the entire name.

--==∞==--

I really need to set a little time aside for myself and planning. My first season of my year ends with Beltane. I've felt the seasonal planning has been incredibly resonant this year with the sickness and depression of January and February stretching into March, the equinox making a shift towards healing.

I think back to one year when i was considering quitting my job: i gave myself a winter, when i let myself just say no to anything and everything and actively did not think about the "problem." Before the end of the period of rest i'd set aside, i had untangled the threads of the "problem." It seemed as if it solved itself: rested, the resolution was clear.

I didn't have that winter this year: instead it was a darker, deeper drain of energy. Spring has been a coming out of the dark, not like waking up rested, but literally recovering from illness, mental and physical. The recovery is happening. I've tried celebrating the recovery, but what i sense is that i have a grief of losing my way. I recognize that i believe i can manage my depression with more control than i really have. Framing it as "lost my way" creates a hook to hang guilt on: perhaps i should say i'm grieving that i didn't have my health go my way.

I suppose i should frame an intentional Beltane ritual around grief: fire to burn away symbols, flowers over the ashes (or , as i usually get a potted plant, ashes around the soil).

First, a complaint: I'm cold *again*, sitting here with a draft coming off the window, bundled in a fleece throw, drinking hot water, with my bean and tortilla bake settling in my stomach. At least the bandwidth is behaving.

I think the turn to cold and drear has had a strong negative effect on me: i am very ready for spring after such a winter spent depressed and sick.

I'm ready for vibrance and life and growth and being filled with awareness of all the potential and possibilities.

The grey and cold dampens the seasonal response. I played with color on Saturday morning, instead of going to Where Camp. --


-- So, as someone who finds gospel in the changing of the seasons, today's unseasonable weather (but vital rain!) challenges my sense of observance. I am so glad that the 20th seemed to meet the archetypical spring day.

--==++==--

I forget what the morning held before i left, but i did dash off a quick egg before heading off to meet my ex-Minnow friends for coffee. I brought a gift for P-C of a stamp pad, wine cork stamp, and cherry blossom envelopes from Daiso, the Japanese "dollar" store. I brought a tray of beautiful marzipan Easter candies to share, knowing that at least one of the Friends loves marzipan as much as i. We sat and chatted and heard of travels for an hour until we were totally frozen.

I left at 10 to go open Meeting and act as greeter, delighted to find the clerk of Oversight was preparing the hospitality for after meeting and we had a good chat.

I did write a prose poem right after Meeting. (As i posted by phone it's just at LJ, and i have cleaned up the text hours later.) I met with a clearness committee; the subject of the committee was not well and did not join us. (And, fie, i forgot to call the subject at dinner time.) The clearness committee is made of two others, who are provoked in their own fears as we assist the subject, and i find that i (and other members of Oversight) are carrying them, as well. In particular there's one member of the committee who may turn into a crisis himself.

I diddled a bit in the library on an organization project, and returned home to find an email about assisting with raising the awareness of torture issues. I still see it in my email in-box and can't manage a coherent reaction. She wants to pass on her torch and is flailing it out towards me. I am not called to this work --- but i am called to my role on Oversight, so i answered that message just now, using up my presleep time and energy.

Yes, a little resentment as i face the work day, yet i know i resent everything for making time move on. It's something i need to get over.

Table: i remembered we have someone in out Meeting who works with furniture (my request for furniture/cabinet makers on the SF Bay area community has not had any responses). I spoke with him briefly: he'll do a much nicer job than some steel L bracket. Maybe he'll take the retired table, too. Anyhow, i don't think it will be cheap, but i feel good supporting a craftsman i know. (Thanks for the supportive comments about the lack of support!)

Christine is in NC now. We woke at 4:30, had her at the airport at 6. I've had surprises for 6 am flights at SFO before, so she was there more than an hour in advance.

I came home by way of the grocery store, and then returned to bed for a while. I attended Meeting, the first time in three weeks. I was distracted by crochet and dyeing plans, but did think a bit about rest. The meditation i have right now -- a earthen oven with baking bread, a place i add wood to burn, a long simmering stew pot -- is a meditation on transformation, consumption and creation. But i found myself thinking about how one so often should take foods from the oven and let them rest -- yet they continue cooking then. It's a lesson i have a hard time learning: that "just sitting there" can be transformative and nurturing and NECESSARY. It's the lesson of winter, too.

Home via OfficeMax, where the sales associates sweep down on me mercilessly. Assistance was offered by three different associates, some more than once. Browsing, i found vinyl wall cling things on which you can write with dry erase markers. I now have a white board-like surface right next to my desk. (I need to buy more.) I love it!

In Saturday's post was also new D&D dice for someday actually getting tasks done. There was also a glasses repair kit, and i fixed Christine's sunglasses. I've been oddly active, doing stuff that needed doing, but wasn't exactly pressing. I also broke a "saucer" that i put my tea basket into. I'm running out of the little creme bruleé dishes Christine gave me, and i haven't made creme bruleé yet.

My sister called and liked the green dyed lace top. The top was from a thrift store and i hadn't washed it before dying. Something had caused the yellow dye to not take in spots, so there were blue blotches in the green. Christine thought it looked cool, Laura thought it looked like the Caribbean sea. So, OK.

Edward is still absent, i have to do the litter box, and i have wanted to comment on a number of posts...

But i better eat.

Mr M is so much better, be purrs and purrs and purrs. I realize just how much his deep bass rumble is a tonic for me, much like my Beloved Listener, Christine. Hooray, hooray for antibiotics!

Christine was a tonic for me last night. During the women's reading group, a woman whose project and self has been the center of a good deal of meeting controversy vented her pain. It was a tricky thing to do: stay emotionally open to be with her pain but not take it or own it, listen to her woundedness that is so clearly there beyond the Meeting relationship, point out a few misconceptions and miseducations. The biggest miseducation is that she had to "go through a committee" which meant she just left all the details of her relationship with the Meeting to her committee. At one point she had apparently done something and was told she had to go through committee. Surely there was some subtlety she has missed (perhaps she wanted a minute acted upon or a meeting of some sort scheduled), as she took that to mean do nothing but go through committee. Her committee erred too, i think, in telling her to stay away from Meetings for Business. So many other people wondered why she was not there. For me, it drives home that no matter what the process, what the structure: it's all just people underneath, and it is the direct relationships that matter.

I so suck at direct relationships.

At least, that's what i automatically think. I was raised to believe that about myself. That too sucks. It compounds my native shyness and introversion and sensitivity

It is a good lesson, that it is direct relationships that matter, as it is too easy to abstract away the details of others and generalize into error.

I'm going to be on Oversight committee beginning this fall, for the next three years. It is a role of ministry, caring for the joys and the wounds of individuals and the tricky abstraction of the Meeting as a Whole.

I've lost a little sense of the fire energy i had been focussing on last year, and my commitment to offer myself up to that for transformation. But as think about this role, and i think about my sense of receptive vitality, what i think i need to do is learn to be as open to joys as to pain and anger.

Last night's tiny bit of attention paid to The Artist's Way was a moment of responding to the prompt "Creatives are." I don't think i have deep blocks on my creativity these days based on my perceptions of creative people as other, different from myself. I've learned to cherish creativity even in relating to management. But one of the things that came out in the exercise was the sense of the joyful, bright butterfly of creativity and my slightly resentful sense that i'm not that.

I know i was on some level reacting to tenacious_snail's vibrant palette and creative decoration plans -- mostly the vibrant palette. Our home is mostly decorated in natural tones and desaturated colors, although some artwork stands out with bright colors. My wardrobe is more muted tones, although once upon a time it was swirly cotton skirts and thrift store silk shirts in bright colors.

I think i'll wear my red silk shirt today and the red and gold necklace. I'm *not* really living in just muted tones, but something about surviving over the years of graduate school, the depression, and then getting our household on stable ground (my profession, Christine's transition and finding a community for herself) had taken so much.

I think i'm ready for joy, i've just forgotten how to live it.