I'm Not Buying What You're Yelling

Today I sat with frustration and self-judgment.

I dropped my youngest off at school and took care of a couple errands since I was not substitute teaching (bank deposit, prescription pick up, grabbed a couple items at the grocery store).  Then I headed home to start my day.  I had quite a few things I needed to get completed, a few I wanted to mark off the list, and many other things I'd actually love to do.

First, the necessary-I needed to practice my mindful meditation (yes, it needed to happen). I needed to clean the kitchen, sweep, and mop.  I needed to dust and vacuum.  I needed to wash, dry, and replace the linens on the beds.  I needed to type up and mail out some invoices for my dad's water well business.  There are also some well reports to enter and some payments to reconcile, and a couple of tax things I needed to take a look at.  I also needed to take care of a subscription for an app on the tv that needs to be properly renewed.

Second, the optional-My income taxes are hanging over my head as well and I want to get them finalized.   Both bathrooms could stand to be given a once over as well (but that's not a top priority for today). I should do some yoga. I should make some calls about starting teaching crochet classes.

Last, the longings-Crochet! I'd love to just sit and crochet All The Things! I'm creating a pattern and I'd love to complete it.  I'd love to straighten and organize all the yarn I inherited from my grandmother. I'd love to fire up my metal foundry and work out the kinks in the design.

I got home, the to-do's bouncing around in my head, and I tidied up for a while in the kitchen, gathered linens from one bedroom and placed those in the washer, ate an apple with some peanut butter, and finally made myself take a seat on my cushion to meditate.

I sat for 20 minutes in mindful meditation.

Let me rephrase...I practiced mindful meditation, or better yet, struggled through a practice.

That sounds better.  It's a practice. It's not a performance. It's not perfect. And for me, it's often a task that requires work and tenacity.

I sat and immediately noticed that I actually felt guilty for practicing today.  The guilt comes from the fact that I was able to meditate today at 10:00 a.m.  Why the guilt?  Well, I am not working at a full-time job currently. I substitute and help my dad, but neither of those constitutes full-time employment. And so I never feel like I'm contributing enough. I should not have the time on my hands to sit at 10:00 a.m. I hear the ugly voice in my head yelling, "Get off your ass and get to work! You are not doing enough!"

Rarely do I feel like I do enough, like I am enough.

I don't make enough. I don't work on my dad's business enough. I don't spend enough time with my mom. I don't help out around my parent's house enough. I don't spend enough time with my kids. I don't clean enough, cook enough, exercise enough, meditate enough. I don't keep in touch with my friends enough. I don't support my people enough. I don't see my extended family enough. I don't read enough, journal enough, blog enough. I don't help others enough. I don't advocate or socially engage enough.

I am simply not enough.

I noticed all these feelings clamoring around in my head and I noticed frustration.

I brought my attention back to my breath, to the sound of the washer churning, to the bird chirping, to the coffee pot clicking. I noticed the sound of my breath and my surroundings. I breathed and I sat.

I noticed the judgments, the frustration, and the ugly voice still yelling. I listened to my breath.

I felt the heaviness in my chest, the pressure in my head, the pulse in my temple, the knot in my stomach. I felt the uneven balance in my posture, one wrist touching my thigh more than the other. I felt the irritation at noticing the unevenness.  I sat with the desire to adjust my posture and the stillness I practiced, and I took a deep breath.

I listened to my surroundings and silently repeated the phrase, "What do you notice most in your current field of awareness?" And I noticed my breath and the wind rustling outside the windows.

I noticed the wind a bit more and the ugly voice a tiny bit less. I noticed sadness at the words the voice continued to yell. I continued to feel the weight on my chest.

I noticed my mind wander. I thought about how long I had been sitting, and how much longer it would be until the bell rang to end my practice. I refocused on my breath.

I noticed the light from the sunshine outside changing the shapes inside my closed eyes. I thought about how you can "see" those shapes with your eyes closed. I noticed my mind had wandered off on this "sight" rabbit trail and I returned to my breath.

Eventually, the bell rang and my practice ended. I bowed my head in gratitude for my practice.

I still feel like I am not enough. I still question my worth. I am still frustrated. I still hear that damn ugly voice.

Mindfulness did not miraculously cure my chaotic brain, but it did help me to simply notice what my brain is saying. I can notice what is being said (or shouted) and realize I do not have to always buy what my brain is selling. I can breathe through the yelling.

I can notice, I can breathe, I cannot get hooked, and I can let it be.

Come walk with me...

This is where I sat today.
I'm smiling. I will breathe and let it be.

Happenstance or holy Spirit?

It's been almost a full year since I last posted on here.  When I think about that my head spins.  I have been feeling like writing for a while now, but I hadn't carved out the time and space to actually sit down and write.  Today I must take that time.  A few things occurred that let me know today is that day.

That whole "sitting down" process has not been going well for me lately.  I have not done much actual, formal meditation practice lately.  I have taken five minutes here and there throughout the last year, but nothing terribly consistent.

I would not say I have not practiced at all, not in the least.  And honestly, a fully incorporated daily practice might actually be more meaningful.  Because this is something I have learned to do over time, I find a moment to breathe and notice constantly.

I breathe and notice the sunrise as I prepare my daughter's breakfast.

I breathe and notice the tired cashier as I'm standing in line at the grocery store.

I breathe and notice the leaves rustling in the breeze while waiting to pick up my daughter from school.

I breathe hand notice the calf dancing in the pasture as I wash dishes at the sink.

I breathe and notice the sound of rain dripping off the eaves of the house as I type.

My practice happens like this more often than not. I try to withhold self-judgment and silence the negative voice telling me I'm not doing it right.  I notice and breathe. My chest expands, my practice expands, and my heart becomes full.

The events leading up to my determination to write today are fascinating to me.

I have written some about how my theology has shifted, over many years of my life, from that of a very conservative Evangelical Christian more universalist theology.  I have been feeling like I needed to write more about this because I've had people ask how I went from one end of the spectrum to the other.

A couple weeks ago I read a blog post (shared on Facebook) about a woman's journey away from her conservative Evangelical faith.  She wrote about the fear factor (hell, fire and brimstone preaching) she had been raised with, and I fully related to her story. I sent her a brief email telling her I appreciated her story and thanked her for sharing.

And I thought to myself that I needed to blog again soon.

I have also been catching up on the podcasts from my church in Pennsylvania.  Wellsprings Unitarian Universalist Congregation became my lifeline during some of the darkest days of my life (I've referred to these as the Divorce Years).  This beautiful spiritual community lifted my soul in ways I never dreamed possible.  I found the energy of my pentecostal upbringing in the music and community and a theology of love and grace that jived so perfectly with the path I had been traveling. I will be forever grateful to the ministry of Wellsprings (both pastors and congregants).

I now live in East Texas, but I continue to call Wellsprings my home church.  Due to the podcasts from their services I am able to remain connected and charged full with the charge of the soul.

Today, I listened to a special speaker podcast.  This speaker was introduced by a dear friend of mine at Wellsprings, Lauren. The speaker, Dave Warnock, talked about his journey away from conservative Evangelical faith along with his path and work after leaving the church.  He was a pastor.  I had been married to a minister.  We had a lot in common in our journeys.

After listening I sent a message to both Lauren and Dave.  I thanked them for their willingness to share and let them know I had been blessed by each of them.  It can be isolating, at times, living in the buckle of the Bible belt and not having a traditional Christian faith. I had to express my gratitude.

And again, I thought about blogging, sharing some of what I had heard and the warm feeling of connectedness it created in me.

Then, surprisingly,  the speaker messaged me back.  He mentioned he had a friend in East Texas and he thought we should connect. She had recently deconstructed her conservative Evangelical faith and he thought we would appreciate meeting. That's when I remembered the woman I had thanked for her blog post was actually from another town in East Texas.  What would be the odds that his friend and the blogger I had thanked were one and the same?!!  Small world indeed.

This is when I knew I had to write.  In the spiritual language of my upbringing, one would say God had brought us together.  Maybe some are comfortable with that language. Maybe not.  Was it a coincidence? Happenstance? Holy Spirit? Energy? Divine Love? Light? The Universe?

Who cares what you call it? Pieces fell into place today, and I am blessed.

I will breathe and notice how the puzzle pieces fell together today.

I will breathe and notice the joy of happenstance.

I will breathe and notice and share this story.

Running from Disease: Dis-ease

Running. Running. Running, and running some more.

Or maybe the better word would be chasing. I'm not sure.  Maybe it's a combination of both.

I've been practicing mindfulness meditation for several years now. There have been periods of more consistent daily meditation practice, where I actually carve out time and space to physically sit in silence, and there have been periods where I practice on the fly, noticing a sunset or a gentle breeze.  I know my life runs more smoothly when I sit for longer periods of time, but I also know that life happens and I work with the moments I'm given.

For about a year now there has been a situation in my life that has provided the opportunity for much personal growth. In working with this particular situation, I have experienced a wide and varied range of emotions and feelings.  There is an outcome that I'd like to achieve, but I am not fully capable of determining said outcome on my own. There are multiple contributing factors that are beyond my control.

It recently occurred to me that I have been going about the situation all wrong. 

And I'm trying to recognize this folly and notice it without the immediate judgment my brain wants to throw at me, "Idiot, how could you not see what you were doing?"

This is why it's called a "practice."  Because throughout this past year, I've been working with this specific ordeal and I'm just now realizing the severity of the things I have been telling myself:

"You should be able to handle this better."

"Get a grip. Get in control of your emotions, girl! WTELAF?" (what the ever loving actual f...)

"How are you still letting this bother you?"

"Get in control!"

"OMG, why are you so upset by this? What is wrong with you?"

"You are practicing meditation, for God's sake, why is this still bothering you?!!!"

All along I've been trying to sit with my emotions and feelings.  That's part of the practice.  Simply sit.  Notice what you are feeling. Let it be.

Let it be.

And I had been doing this. 

Or at least I thought I had been doing this. But I had a bit of an epiphany this morning as I read through one of my quiet time readings. 

This morning it was the 33 verse of the Tao Te Ching.

One who understands others has knowledge;

one who understands himself has wisdom.

Mastering others requires force; 

mastering the self needs strength.

There was some commentary written about the verse. It spoke of shifting your mental energy to allowing yourself to be with whatever you are feeling.  There is no need to blame others, or maybe, more importantly, blame yourself for the feelings.

"But you are willing to freely experience your emotions without calling them 'wrong' or needing to chase them away."  

"In this way, with this simple exercise at the moment of your dis-ease, you've made a shift to self-mastery."

I've been practicing this very concept for over five years now. Rev. Ken at Wellsprings has used the term dis-ease many times.  This is not a new, revelatory word being spoken into my life. And yet, today it shook me in a new way and shed light on my struggle over the past year.

I suddenly realized that all of my sitting and meditating and intention with regard to this particular situation had had an underlying purpose (and I'm trying really hard not to let my self-judgment be harsh).  I realized that I have been practicing with an intention of making the feelings go away.  I have been practicing to gain mastery over these particular emotions.  I have been running from or chasing away these feelings.

It was not obvious because my ego is sneaky.  I would sit and tell myself to be present with my feelings.  All good. All the way I was taught. I would feel and notice.  But what I am realizing is that I was doing all of this with the expectation that the practice would somehow lessen or remove the feelings.  There was the expectation that I would gain mastery or the feelings would slowly, magically, fade into the silence of proper meditation.

Mindfulness meditation isn't about changing the situation, running from, or chasing away the feelings. It is about being present with the feelings.  I have been frustrated that I could not master the emotions.  I have been irritated that I could not remove the feelings. I have been angered that the emotions and feelings did not retreat or remove themselves from my life.

There was a song I knew as a child called "Practice Makes Perfect," on an album called Bullfrogs and Butterflies.  It was about a young girl learning to play the piano. There is a line in the song that says, "I guess if I practice, the better I'll be."  And while I'm not certain about the "makes perfect" part of the title, the practicing and getting better is something I can appreciate.

I do not enjoy the "dis-ease" that the emotions and feelings create in me.  But I am finally learning to truly sit with myself.  I will sit. I will be. I will feel what I'm feeling and notice. I will get better at noticing when I'm running or fleeing. I will be better capable of sitting without an ulterior motive.

I am working with letting go of expected outcomes, both within myself and with situations in which I'm involved. I can feel the emotions and feelings, but I do not have to allow them to cause additional disease. I will notice the dis-ease, and let it be. 

I will practice letting go of expected results and be with what is here. Relinquishing control of the outcome in my headspace (since I cannot control it anyway) feels wonderful and burden lifting.

I'm definitely still a work in progress, but I will continue my practice.

Struggle

I sat in silence for ten minutes.

This was the first time I have sat in quite a while.

Why is it always so easy to fall out of a good routine and so very difficult to reestablish said routine?

I know what I need to do in order to remain in a healthy, happy, whole mental state. I need my quiet time. I need my morning meditation. I need to stretch my body with the yoga I have learned. I need to breathe deep and relax my shoulders. I need to journal. I need to crochet and create.

Lately, I have done a decent amount of crocheting and that is about all.

Three or four days last week I stretched for about five minutes as soon as my feet hit the floor. I did a very simple yogaesque stretching that simply helped ease my body into movement for the day and it felt wonderful.  I quickly noticed a boost in my physical energy level and mental attitude. And yet, I am somehow capable of not doing that each morning.

I get frustrated with myself and then get frustrated for being frustrated with myself.

Sound insane? Probably because it is. 

I feel a tightness in my forehead, weight on my chest, tension in my shoulder blades, pressure on my temples, and an overall aching throughout my entire body.

Deep breath.  Hold it in.  Sigh it out.

Face the day and breathe.

Tomorrow I will try again.

Come walk with me...

Fuster Cluck Inside My Head

Sitting here this morning drinking coffee with a bit of half and half.  Not up as early as I would have liked, but I didn't have to set an alarm this morning and evidently my body needed a bit more sleep last night. I've read my usual morning quiet time stuff.  I did a brief sitting meditation.

October began yesterday, and life continues.  Some days one thrives and others one survives. Yesterday was one of those "survive" days for me.

It happens.

It wasn't because I was working at some backbreaking task, or running kids here and there while juggling errands and phone calls.  Both of those options would certainly have made the day much better.  Yesterday was one of those "in your head" sort of days, and sometimes those can be much more challenging.

Yesterday morning I stumbled upon a journal I had started just over twenty years ago. The date was April 28, 1998.  This turned out to be exactly one year minus one day prior to me giving birth to my first child, on April 27, 1999.

I was twenty-five, had been married five and a half years. I had finished college and a brief 5th grade teaching stint.  We had just moved back to Waxahachie after my ex had completed his coursework on his Ph.D.

As I read through a couple entries in this old journal, I found the feelings much more familiar than I expected.  My 25-year-old self had written about feeling a bit lost and confused regarding her path and purpose in life.  And it felt like a kick in the gut to realize that those feelings are once again an ever-present reality in my life.

In my journal, I described how we had decided to begin our family, and I had written about my feelings regarding all the waiting that goes into trying to get pregnant.  Waiting to ovulate, waiting to see if we had gotten pregnant, waiting to see the doctor when things went wrong, waiting for the hormone treatments after an early miscarriage, waiting to see the if treatments worked, and then waiting to start the whole process over again.

I was also waiting to see if a full-time teaching position was going to work out, and trying to decide if I would take said position depending on when or if we would be starting a family.

Needless to say, there were a lot of questions and very few answers.

Reading through this twenty-year-old journal yesterday threw me for such a loop.  I found myself inside my head in a very uncomfortable way.  I'm a 45-year-old divorced former stay-at-home mom of three and I'm still full of questions and I have fewer answers now than I did then.

I felt the pressure of this distressing realization like a huge rock sitting dead center on my chest.  My very breath felt heavy as I tried to breathe under this boulder. I felt the vice squeeze my temples and noticed the clenching of my jaw.

I wanted to run, but I had no place to go.

How in the effing world am I struggling with so many of the same questions (purpose and path) and it's two decades later?

I was angry at myself and the world.  Angry because I hadn't done more, become more, made something more of myself. Frustrated that I suddenly felt so shitty about myself and couldn't shake it.  Irritated that I was angry and frustrated. Annoyed at all the noise and chaos in my head. Sad. Just sad. And so very tired. And then I felt guilty for being so self-absorbed. All the while hearing my mindfulness self saying, "no judgment."

Yeah, I suck at that sometimes!

Needless to say, yesterday was a fuster cluck inside my head.  It was unpleasant and disturbing and bothersome and stressful and heartbreaking and the list goes on...

So I'm trying to do better today, to be kinder to Deborah.  I decided to write a few things I have learned about myself. To attempt to notice the answers I do have and simply sit with the questions that seem to never fade away.

I am a good friend.  I am a hard worker.  I care deeply for those I love.  I have a lot of love to give.  I want to see the people around me happy and healthy.  I want to share joy and decrease pain.  I enjoy helping people get work done. I don't like seeing people suffer.  I don't like confrontation.  I don't like over-consumption and consumerism. I am comfortable in my own skin.  I love encouraging people. I enjoy cheering for others and helping them learn to cheer for themselves.

It's not all of who I am, but it's a good list. I will continue to sit with the discomfort and the questions. I won't run away or try to escape. I will sit with the good as well.

And I will read and re-read this passage from a book I'm working my way through...

"Confusion is our salvation.  For the confused, there is still hope.  Hang on to your confusion.  In the end it is your best friend, your best defense against the deathliness of others' answers, against being raped by their ideas. If you are confused, you are still free."  Dr. David Hawkins, "Letting Go"

Well, I am wonderfully free, because I'm confused as all get out by this process we call life.  Come walk with me, we'll be confused together, but at least we won't be alone.

Finding My Path-or maybe not? Who knows?

being edited

Reclaiming Holy Spirit

From my journal this morning...

I am learning to reclaim the term Holy Spirit.

The Christian tradition, and specifically the Pentecostal/Charismatic tradition in which I was raised, puts a tremendous emphasis on the Holy Spirit.

We are filled with the Spirit.

The Spirit is with us and dwells in us and leads us and guides us.

The Holy Spirit intercedes for us on our behalf. When we do not have the proper words to pray, the Spirit will pray in our place.

I had lost so much of this as I lost my faith in the very constrained God of my Christian tradition.

I am now finding a way to fully reconnect with the Holy Spirit and I feel my soul come alive, and the energy of that statement resonates so deeply in my being.

I guess I am learning to trust the Holy Spirit again. I'm learning to see the Holy Spirit in my life in a fresh new way. I cannot explain it as well as I once could. At one time in my life, I had all the answers and everything was very black and white and simple. Now I have many more questions and very few answers, but I am so much more alive!

I feel such happiness being able to reconnect and reclaim the term Holy Spirit.

Spirit is redefined and re-imaged in many ways from the ideas with which I grew up, and yet Spirit remains the same.

The boundaries, restraints, and restrictions have fallen away.

Spirit includes everyone and is with each of us and connects us and draws us to one another.

The energy that draws breath into my body draws breath into each body, everybody. The energy that causes my heart to beat, causes each heart to beat.

Every heart around the world beats together in a great chorus, an amazing thunderous symphony of Spirit energy. Each heart connected with, by, and through this Spirit.

There is rhythmic, constant, continual beating.

Some hearts are brand new and beat a rapid rhythm.

Some are very old and beat heavy and slow.

But together they produce a cacophony of thunderous sound, almost silent, but magnificent if you learn to listen and notice.

There is a constant thunderous applause of heartbeats connecting each of us to the other, to all.

This energy, this Holy energy, this Holy Spirit dwells within each of us just waiting to be heard, noticed, and recognized.

This Spirit...

This Energy...

This Love...

This charges me full with the charge of the soul.

My heart does not beat alone.

My heart beats and my lungs breathe as a part of an amazing symphony-the symphony of life.

I can feel it pounding in my chest, beating constantly. I see and feel my chest swell with the Spirit of life.

You are not alone!
None of us are alone.
We are all a part of this splendiferous orchestra.

We are all led by the Holy Spirit.

The Holy Spirit conducts, orchestrates, energizes and we all participate. If you are alive you cannot help but participate.

Be still.

Feel.

Listen.

Know you are not alone. You can never be alone.

Hearts beat,
Lungs breathe,
In constant unison along with you.

The Spirit compels your heart to beat. The Spirit fills you with each breath. The Spirit goes within as you breathe in and sends life pulsing through your body.

The Spirit then flows from you with each exhale, sharing your life force with the world. And you cannot, without ceasing your existence, prevent this constant, continual, amazing, beautiful, sharing of yourself and the Spirit.

You can refuse to notice it.

You can redefine it.

You can rename it.

But you cannot deny nor escape it.

Your heart beats. Your lungs breathe. Energy flows constantly through you.

The Spirit is in you. The Energy keeps you alive. The Holy Spirit connects each and every one of us.

The Holy Spirit-Divine Energy, Divine Light, Amazing Love, it is with you, alive in you, and you cannot escape it.

Even death cannot contain it.

You are wrapped within,
a complete part of,
fully connected to,
this amazing life.

You are not alone.

We are all in this together,
there is no other way.