"I am in a hurry"

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

After almost being killed by a coworker speeding through the parking garage (who came right at me, on my side, coming around a corner at high speed - luckily I was able to slam my brakes and he to swerve), I was thinking...

How much bad behavior do we self-justify with that phrase - "I am in a hurry"?

What do we really gain from this mindset?

What price do we pay?

This is one of many indicators about how we are losing our connection to our humanity, to ourselves and to each other, in a quest for "more."  And the funny thing is that there is no satisfaction in this more - the faster, higher volume, greater noise level.

What are we afraid of?  What are we trying to tune out?  Or have our "fight or flight" instincts just redirected in an unhealthy way to a constant state of reaction as a result of our environment and ever-increasing volume of inputs (twitter, facebook, foursquare, linkedin, email, phone, text, radio, TV, movies, cable, radio, internet....)?

I have been musing a lot lately on the value of less.  Less hurry.  Less inputs.  Less physical things.  Less worry.  Less stress.  Less holding tightly.  Less illusion of control.

This Pema Chodron quote doesn't feel like a puzzle piece locking fit to my post, but it feels right and relevant.  (Addendum:  here it is; this is where my mind is trying to take me...  Substitute "hurry" for "blame" when you read the below.)

DRIVE ALL BLAMES INTO ONESELF

"There’s a slogan in the mahayana teachings that says, “Drive all blames into oneself.” The essence of this slogan is, “When it hurts so bad, it’s because I am hanging on so tight.” It’s not saying that we should beat ourselves up. It’s not advocating martyrdom. What it implies is that pain comes from holding so tightly to having it our own way and that one of the main exits we take when we find ourselves uncomfortable, when we find ourselves in an unwanted situation or an unwanted place, is to blame.

This slogan is a helpful and interesting suggestion that we could begin to shift that deep-seated, ancient, habitual tendency to hang on to having everything on our own terms. The way to start would be, first, when we feel the tendency to blame, to try to get in touch with what it feels like to be holding on to ourselves so tightly."

- Pema Chodron

The secret language of the dying

Wednesday, August 8, 2012

I have a lot to say, and it can only come out with a lot of tears, and now is not the time and place for that...

But, I wanted to say that I get it now.

The sudden flashes of anger, the vast swings of mood...

He's experiencing them too.

Outside the lines

Monday, August 6, 2012

Our human tendency is to normalize everything.  We want to make it all fit within our expectations... to make it neat. 

We want to keep life "inside the lines."

Life refuses to conform.  We rationalize, explain away, continue to try to find a comfortable, familiar, acceptable path. 


Life stays messy.


Sometimes, finally, in the face of inescapable evidence, the sick feeling finally sinks into our belly (into our soul).  We resign ourselves to facing what is true, and painfully relinquish our grasping control. 


Never easily.  Never voluntarily.  Only when all the other choices are so far-fetched that the reality must be the one we have been trying to avoid.




I want my house to be secure.  I want it not to have been broken into.  But it was.
I want my housekeeper to be trustworthy.  I want her to not to have stolen from me.  But she did.

In the middle of the night, in the dark, holding my breath under the covers...












I want my father to be the same vibrant, alive man I've called "Daddy" for 42 years.  I want him not to be dying.  But he is.






It is easier to look away.  To deny.  To pretend that it is OK. 






But it's not.

Sit ready, my friends, sit ready.

Thursday, July 19, 2012

I like to think of myself as someone who is a "believer" in climate change, and someone who makes the right choices and takes the right actions to support that belief.

The fact of the matter is, I'm a fake.  I'm bullshitting myself.  I'm letting myself off the hook.  I have been telling myself that I know that climate change exists, and it's a problem, and I've changed my light bulbs to CFLs and rode my bike to work some (last year), so I'm doing what I can.  This problem is just so much bigger than me, what can I do?  Nobody else gives a shit.  It's inevitable.  I'll just go look at Pinterest.  Maybe play a game.  Read a book.  Work late.  Eat too much.  Stare at reality television.  Distract myself.

I am the problem.

I have been passively sitting by, pretending my hands are tied, feeling hopeless. Powerless.

While I'm doing that, what haven't I been doing?  Making changes.  Speaking up.  Participating in the process, engaging with all levels of our government.  Holding them accountable.  The fact is, I do have power - the power of my voice.  The power of my actions.  The power of my life.

I am right - my power is not enough.  But maybe my power can get someone else to take action too.  And maybe if they can get someone... Maybe eventually there will be enough power.

I have been sleepwalking.  We are all sleepwalking together. 
 
Today I am stirring.  I am realizing that I can use my voice to try to wake people up... But...  It requires something hard.  It requires work.  It requires commitment.  It requires that I stop letting myself off the hook.  I have to take ownership of my power.  I have to take action.

I have to take (gasp!) personal responsibility.

It's easier to look away, to ignore the problem.  It's easier to be helpless.  John said "it's not going to change until people are uncomfortable."  

Is that it?  Is that what is needed? I have a question for you.

How uncomfortable are the people who lost everything in the wildfires that spread across the western half of America?

How uncomfortable are the farmers whose crops are withering on the vine because there is no rain (not uncomfortable enough, with government subsidies, maybe)?

How uncomfortable are the cattlemen, who are having to slaughter and sell their cows (beef is cheap right now, my friends!) because they can't provide them with food?

When is it enough?

Your house didn't burn.  You're not a farmer or a cattleman. When the produce shelves are empty and food prices are so high you can't afford to feed your kids, is that when you'll be uncomfortable?

Think about something for me.  What are you doing with your power?

...Oh, your reality show is coming on right now?

Maybe later?



_____________________________________________________

I'm going to the Climate Leadership training in California next month and would love the opportunity to give the climate presentation to your group after I'm trained.  Leave a comment with your contact information if you are interested.

In the meantime, I recommend you read this piece, join 350.org & the Climate Reality Project and use your power.

"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat."
- Theodore Roosevelt

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

I Double Dare You

by Pavi Mehta

the edges of things are always deceptive.

because we are taught to believe

in endings and beginnings.

but the truth is:

There Are No Borders.

and all boundaries are lines

drawn in the imagination

(like the equator)

people like to put things

in their places.

(we believe in belonging

somewhere)

this is the problem with

poetry-

(it does not understand

belonging)

and it will not be put in place.

with crayons on paper maybe

but who can live life strictly

inside-the-lines?

the color of countries that

cannot be contained

in cliches where-

the red of your heart spills

into the red of the rose spills

into the red of the sunset spills

into mehendi on the hands of a bride.

and who can explain these things?

but what i want to know is simple:

who settled the sky on top of the mountain

and who drew the restless margins of the sea?

everything flows into everything

else.

like a picture drawn without once

lifting pencil from paper;

this world.

now tell me the story of your life

(whoever you are) go on

i Double Dare you!

tell me the story of your life

without once touching

mine.

There is no answer

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

I read a lot of things that people might call "self-help."  I look constantly for answers, for solutions, for the fix that I know must exist, I just haven't found it yet.  I want to fix it.  I am a "fixer".  "Restorative." I want to fix myself.  I want to fix my Dad.  I want to fix the world.  If I just do more, do better, work faster, be smarter, be nicer, give more... I know it is right *there*.  If only I could be... enough.

My Dad is dying.  He was dying yesterday, last week, a year ago, ten years ago.  He was dying the day that I came into this world.  Today his death feels imminent.  Today, we learned that his multiple myeloma has evolved into a much rarer and much more aggressive form.  There is, and will be, no "prognosis;" just things for them to try.  More, newer, and different drugs.  The cancer is so unusual that statistics do not exist.  In the end "statistics" are nothing more than a fallacy; a straw to clutch.  A delusion of control. 

I am afraid of losing him.  I am losing him.

Since my company is in the same town that he is, I am torn with conflict.  I could live in San Antonio and continue to be employed by my current employer.  I have more choices than I wish I did.  Choice is both a blessing and a burden.

Do I move in with him to care for him, to encourage him?  He seems to feed off me, to try harder, be more pliable, give more with my encouragement.  The second I withdraw the push, he reclines to the point of seeming to concede to death.  Do I give all of my energy to him, to try to bring his energy up?  In the end, would it make a difference?  Would he be happier as a result, or would he gradually begrudge my efforts, as he does others who are more near at hand (Han, his wife, and Julie, my sister)?  Could I survive the drain of giving, without a price of slowly turning into something terrible and bitter?  I have given my energy for his for just a few short weeks, and felt my soul dying in the process.

I want him to be as healthy and happy as he can be.  Should I be giving my young, relatively unattached life to what remains of his?  Would it be for a month?  Three months?  A year?  Three years?  Would my family, home in Virginia, survive the strain?  Would they support me, or become another thing that falls apart in the process?

There is no answer.  There is no "right choice" that will let me sleep at night at the end of this journey.

Let me hold, and uphold, each fragile day in grace.  Let me bring peace and love to my father, to my sister, and to myself.  Let me become a place of calm amidst this fearful, deadly storm called life.  If only I can do this.  Please.
Amen.