I have a dear friend and colleague, Charli Prather, who writes a blog called Military Zen Mom http://militaryzenmom.com/ - she is the mom of a son in the military and he's often in perilous parts of the world and cannot communicate with her. He's great at his work, which certainly makes it more perilous. As you can imagine, it's hard to be 'zen' when your kid, even your adult kid, is a soldier. I admire her a whole lot!
I, too, imagine that I have some inner 'Zen.' Zen mom, Zen therapist, Zen wife, Zen daughter, Zen driver in traffic, Zen grocery store shopper, Zen help the kids get ready for school person. I imagine that there is this person in me with an intrinsic ability to be spontaneous, to see and understand the big picture, to be accepting of my own foibles and the foibles of others.
Oh yeah, and then there's real life. That other lady is kind of in my imagination.
In my family, we are currently in the midst of making some big decisions - happy ones, but they feel weighty. Some parts feel out of my control. This little sentence: 'some parts feel out of my control' - is a big trigger for me.
Under duress, here's what I do: 1) I start worrying. 2) I makes lists (look, even this is a list) 3) I cross things off my list as I do them and then add 5 more for every one I do. 4) I get irritable 5) I get overtired 6) I get mad at myself for getting irritable and overtired and distracted from what I know is really important, i.e. the health and welfare of those I love and also just loving them.
I know I'm not the only one.
Ok, so I'm doing something new and it's kind of working. I am not going 100% Zen in some moment of enlightenment. No. I am talking myself into moments of letting go of control. I say to myself, 'Listen, Lady, you've seen enough of life to know that most things turn out okay in the end.' I feel a little sense of calm. Maybe that lasts 1/2 hour. Then, I go back to list-maker extraordinaire mode. Then, I remember that I am not the most powerful force in the universe and I feel better for a while. Then, I monkey with the to-do list again. And so on.
I notice a lot of us don't start to make changes in how we think or act even though we suspect we could feel differently or better in our lives. Sometimes, we know clearly what we could do to feel a greater sense of well-being, but the changes seem overwhelmingly big. Or, we 'fall off the wagon' with whatever the thing is and we don't get back on for a long time.
Here's my idea. Make the change - even if it's for 5 minutes. This week, facing 'BIG DECISIONS', when I fall off the Zen wagon, I'm just getting back on. Even if it's 10 times in the same day. I feel better.
Friday, July 20, 2012
Thursday, July 5, 2012
in praise of idleness and imagination
I almost bought a 1978 Ford F100 this week. While out running, I'd seen the truck on the street with a For Sale sign in it. It was beat up and rusted and it looked like something Tim Riggins would drive in Friday Night Lights (one of the best tv shows ever). Something about that truck was calling me. I have never in my life wanted a 'toy' - not like that. I never have given myself the room and frivolity to even consider a toy. Something about that truck was beautiful to me and I wanted it. And my sweet husband (who likes trucks), said, "why don't you call the guy and we'll test drive it."
I felt tingly inside, rejuvenated, just thinking about that truck. I imagined driving down the road to work with my hair blowing in the breeze. I imagined friends calling me to help them move stuff. It would be awesome. I liked the feeling that I surprised myself. When was the last time you surprised yourself? If you're a dutiful adult, it's probably been a long time.
One of the reaons, I think, we don't surprise ourselves, we don't see and feel the adventures and possibilities in life, is that we're too busy, a la the well-written op-ed from Tim Kreider in the past week's NY Times http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2012/06/30/the-busy-trap/?smid=fb-share about the pitfalls of busy-ness, and our false notions that busy-ness equated to our life's meaning and importance. I liked the article, though the tone is kind of scold-y.
I'll give you a couple less scold-y resources in praise of idleness and imagination - one of the best books, most uplifting fun and inspiring I've read- Brenda Ueland's, If You Want To Write. She praises idleness, but distinguishes it from laziness, "But if it is the dreamy idleness that children have, an idleness when you walk alone for a long, long time, or take a long, dreamy time at dressing, or lie in bed at night and thoughts come and go...with all my heart I tell you and reassure you: at such times your are being slowly filled and recharged with warm imagination, with wonderful, living thoughts."
You see, I think our imagination - me imagining myself in some new way, in the truck for example, is something that feeds our health and humanity. And we don't have to imagine ourselves, I think we could imagine anything - I am certain that Steve Jobs was a great imaginer. Our leaders in government would probably be serving us much better, if they were less 'busy' and more imaginative.
I am currently reading another book, My Stroke of Insight by Jill Bolte Taylor, PhD. She was a brain scientist who had a massive stroke in her mid-30s. She writes, "as members of the same human species, you and I share all but .01 percent of identical genetic sequences...Looking around at the diversity within our human race, it is obvious that .01 percent accounts for significant difference in how we look, think, and behave.
I love that! I think that idleness, followed by imagination leads to our soul's expression (if you don't believe in a soul, I really just mean the unique thing that is YOU).
So, you may be disappointed to know that I didn't get the truck. Not that truck. I am certain the right truck for me is in my future. And I also figured out that possessing the truck is not the important thing...it was the surprise of a mind (my mind) that was open to possibility, to imagining myself in a different way, of expressing myself in a different way, and in that imagining, feeling the wind and sun on my face, the open road ahead of me, feeling free.
I felt tingly inside, rejuvenated, just thinking about that truck. I imagined driving down the road to work with my hair blowing in the breeze. I imagined friends calling me to help them move stuff. It would be awesome. I liked the feeling that I surprised myself. When was the last time you surprised yourself? If you're a dutiful adult, it's probably been a long time.
One of the reaons, I think, we don't surprise ourselves, we don't see and feel the adventures and possibilities in life, is that we're too busy, a la the well-written op-ed from Tim Kreider in the past week's NY Times http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2012/06/30/the-busy-trap/?smid=fb-share about the pitfalls of busy-ness, and our false notions that busy-ness equated to our life's meaning and importance. I liked the article, though the tone is kind of scold-y.
I'll give you a couple less scold-y resources in praise of idleness and imagination - one of the best books, most uplifting fun and inspiring I've read- Brenda Ueland's, If You Want To Write. She praises idleness, but distinguishes it from laziness, "But if it is the dreamy idleness that children have, an idleness when you walk alone for a long, long time, or take a long, dreamy time at dressing, or lie in bed at night and thoughts come and go...with all my heart I tell you and reassure you: at such times your are being slowly filled and recharged with warm imagination, with wonderful, living thoughts."
You see, I think our imagination - me imagining myself in some new way, in the truck for example, is something that feeds our health and humanity. And we don't have to imagine ourselves, I think we could imagine anything - I am certain that Steve Jobs was a great imaginer. Our leaders in government would probably be serving us much better, if they were less 'busy' and more imaginative.
I am currently reading another book, My Stroke of Insight by Jill Bolte Taylor, PhD. She was a brain scientist who had a massive stroke in her mid-30s. She writes, "as members of the same human species, you and I share all but .01 percent of identical genetic sequences...Looking around at the diversity within our human race, it is obvious that .01 percent accounts for significant difference in how we look, think, and behave.
I love that! I think that idleness, followed by imagination leads to our soul's expression (if you don't believe in a soul, I really just mean the unique thing that is YOU).
So, you may be disappointed to know that I didn't get the truck. Not that truck. I am certain the right truck for me is in my future. And I also figured out that possessing the truck is not the important thing...it was the surprise of a mind (my mind) that was open to possibility, to imagining myself in a different way, of expressing myself in a different way, and in that imagining, feeling the wind and sun on my face, the open road ahead of me, feeling free.
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