Sunday, August 7, 2011

A fellow intern shared this with me






It means a lot right now. Reminds me many of us are going through the same. And we come out all right. The threshold is never easy to pass through.

Here is what was emailed to me by C:

"Seeing ourselves clearly

When we begin to see clearly what we do, how we get hooked and swept away by old habits, our usual tendency is to get discouraged, a reason to feel really bad about ourselves. Instead, we could realize how remarkable it is that we actually have the capacity to see ourselves honestly, and that doing this takes courage.

It is moving in the direction of seeing our life as a teacher rather than as a burden. This involves, fundamentally, learning to stay present, but learning to stay with a sense of humor, learning to stay with loving kindness toward ourselves and with the outer situation, learning to take joy in the magic ingredient of honest self-reflection"

excerpt from Rejoicing in things as the are, teaching by Pema Chodron, pg 57

And I get all of this. Last weekend in Red Mesa, I watched myself going back to old habits of withdrawing and not wanting to be around anyone. I felt like I was back in that time in Chile once with a group of people making landart. I had to shut my eyes and pretend to be asleep a lot of the time so I wouldn't get overwhelmed and so I would have the energy/resources for creativity. And I did, and the projects came. But what if they could come without the intense desire for solitude? Or is that just the magic ingredient where the incubation happens?

Anyway, in Red Mesa, I walked along on my own in the opposite direction of everyone else. Then I ran as fast as I could. Then I sat in the car alone and wrote for a while. Why the sudden shift from happy morning to troubled evening? Was it all too much to absorb? It was certainly a lot and I was tired.

I had been in Santa Fe just that very morning waking up so happy to a cool morning in the mountains and beautiful walk where 3 coyotes ran in front of us. From Santa Fe, I went directly into a Deep Time workshop in Albuquerque for 3 hours and wished that I had more time than 3 hours - because I needed way more time than that to go deep. It was more like surface time that gave me glimpses of what was underneath. The course began with the lovely question, what brought you joy this morning? I offered my story of the walk with coyotes in Santa Fe.

I'd had such a great previous night saying bye to some friends leaving NM, sitting on top of La Fonda at the Belltower Bar with the sun setting. There's a certain, strange feeling I have when I go back to Santa Fe now, because there is such an unknowing, but hopeful feeling about returning or ever going back. I'm not attached though, I'm just enjoying being there while I'm there in gratitude. Not being able to take it for granted, certainly does keep my relationship with it fresh.

Once I got to Red Mesa, all I wanted was solitude and to be somewhere no one else was exploring, where no one else knew where I was. I was in that kind of mood and I knew it. And no one else was that way, they were a social way. At least, I just kept quiet and did not say unkind things to people I would have only been projecting those things on them. As they always do, the feelings of irratability passed with time, with surrendering bringing me into a centered place again. The beautiful horses and the much needed rest, since I was fighting off a cold, quickened the process to only being out of sorts for a day.

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