Me in Tuscany

The making of the Just Is box has been a very revealing exercise. Sometimes, I swear, I am such a negative noodge. Stick a piece of paper in the box already, how hard can it be? Pretty tough apparently, since I couldn't seem to do it without experiencing a silent avalanche of negative thoughts with each submission. Impossible. Never happen. Who are you kidding? I couldn't even put a picture of the Tuscan countryside in the damn box. let alone really envision myself there popping a hot grape into my mouth while wandering through Cortona on market day. Some stories are harder to rewrite than others.

The making of the box went rather well, actually. I found a suitable box with little trouble and some pretty paper for decoration in the scrapbooking supplies . There wasn't enough paper to cover the box, but I impressed myself with a creative design that used what I had at hand to accomplish a pretty result. As usual, all smiles at the beginning. Then the trouble started. At first I couldn't think of anything to put in the box. But that's crazy, surely there are things I want to manifest in my life. I sat for a full five minutes blankly staring at the empty box. It was disturbing. Like when you're a kid in summer and have two months of freedom still stretching ahead and can't think of anything else you want to do, only this was way worse, It felt like rigor mortis had set in to that part of my brain responsible for thinking up the things I want to do in life, Then gradually, tentatively, thoughts began to emerge. Travel. Writing goals. An antique farmhouse table. The usual kinds of desires,nothing big, but boy already I could hear myself doubting. Just thinking of where I could find a relevant image to put in the box set me off on a litany of reasons why that little idea would never fly. You don't really believe you can do/have/accomplish any of these things do you. Well, do you? For God's sake it's just pictures in a box, snap out of it! Then, the Just Is box started to work its magic. With each addition to the box I faced my belief in what is possible, and the fact that deep down, I do still believe that anything can happen--what a relief! So in went Tuscany and Provence, but remember, no censoring the vision, so the next thing I knew, in went Africa! Out went dread and fear and in rushed optimism, anticipation, fun, and an openness to dreaming about the world again unfettered by disbelief.

Thank you Jenny for my Just Is box. I can't wait to see how it evolves. I suspect things will happen like they did to Frances Mayes in Under the Tuscan Sun. Early on, depressed, alone and rudderless she questions why the heck she bought a house for a life she doesn't even have. What if there are never people to sleep in those rooms or anyone to cook for in that kitchen. Her friend tells her how the people of Italy built a train track over the Alps to connect Vienna and Venice long before there was a train in existence that could make the trip. In the end, Frances realizes she's gotten everything she asked for, though it has all come about in unconventional and unimaginable ways. I know that will be me in Tuscany...the things that are will just be, but how they become we'll have to see! MK

The way we were

There are things I used to love to do. I still do love these things, but I used to do them, effortlessly and naturally after work and on the weekends I would turn to something I loved and just do it. Somewhere on the road to middle age though, creating, crafting, puttering and playing got largely replaced with planning, worrying, working and meeting obligations. I'm not sure exactly when that sense of fun was ousted by a sense that everything else must come first, but I am sure that when joy and spontaneity were lost in the process, spinning about what wasn't done yet became my main activity. I'm afraid the lack of fun was a more insidious loss than merely being overworked and over extended can explain. It was a harbinger of a dangerous shift in values--a shift away from gravitating toward a wide world of natural interests to being dragged down into a constant habit of judgment over what I have not yet accomplished. When harsh judgment surrounds everything, it squeezes the breath out of life, and it eventually convinces us we don't deserve to be happy. That's the real midlife crisis. This morning I woke up remembering Sue Bender describing one of the many epiphanies she discovered while living with the Amish, which she described in her book Plain and Simple, "Nothing you are doing is wasted time," she said. The Amish seem so austere, even severe in their rejection of the physical amenities of modern life; but in that simplicity Sue found the joy of being so present in the moments of each day that there was no longer a distinction between fun and work, recreation and obligation. There is joy to be had in every moment when you are simply present for it. Just as no scrap of fabric was wasted and instead found it's way into a beautiful Amish quilt, no time was wasted either, every moment was valued as an important part of the whole, the good and the bad, the hard and the fun. I think Sue was saying that without judgment, every moment matters, so be there and be happy.

I wanted to become a writer at a time when I knew myself better than I do now. Before I got carried away by harsh judgment. I knew that I would never run out of things to write about, because I was always finding a new interest to jump into feet first. Learning about and trying new things was my joy, following the trail of a new-found interest was my passion. I think I instinctively understood that it was part of my nature to be so, and writing was one way to make the most of it. But instead of trusting that insight, I slowly chipped away at my joie de vivre and began to consider spontaneity as a lack of commitment, passion as a lack of seriousness. It's time to trust those initial instincts, to get back to the way we were before life piled up over our heads and shaded out the light that the seeds of new ideas need to grow. Never underestimate the value of fun, nothing you are doing is wasted time.

As a reminder to myself, these are some of the things I love that I haven't done in a long time. I love making things: candles, quilts, jam, pickles, mustard, herbal concoctions, lotions, salves and lipgloss. I love gardening, growing herbs, orchids, heirloom tomatoes and French radishes, I love filling pots on the deck with color and texture and watering them at night while listening to music. I love magazines, sitting on my deck reading, enjoying the view and taking my work outside to do while sitting under a big umbrella. I love playing with my animals, exploring new places with my dogs and horse, hiking, riding and riding my bike. I love long walks, kayaking, fishing, swimming in lakes and sailing. I love the beach, fine hotels, museums, concerts in the park, antiques stores, wine tasting, cooking in season and going out to tea. I love yoga, smiling, meditation and mantram walks. I love being green, being just who I am and being happy. MK

Sailing take me away...

Off to the lake for the rest of the week. Quintessential effortless action. No goals, just be. MK

X Marks the spot...

Whew! It's been quite the week. A trying one physically since I have been hit hard with allergies. Itchy eyes, headaches and fatigued. Work is beyond busy requiring evenings and Saturday... excellent testing ground for yogic principles ( and Buddhist ones as well -- many similarities in all spiritual disciplines ). This entire week has been one long lesson: the solution is right there in every breath, right where you are, the X marks the spot -- YOU ARE HERE. Effortless action flows from the X. I love the concept, I know how it works and I know that it works. " Let go into the full texture of now ..." says Jon Kabat-Zinn in Wherever You Go There You Are (thanks Marcia). There is something reassuring in trusting this moment. If I stay fully in this moment whether on the mat, extended in triangle pose, or in bed, the moment monkey minds takes over, and just breath it all in I suddenly find that gentle smile on my face and everything softens. Knots loosen, constriction fall away -- no story attached. I love it. The more I lean into this mindfullness the more I trust it. And this is where effortless action takes place. From here I know that I will make the call, write the letter, tackle the meeting. Graceful gliding is how it feels.
Another thing that happened this week is that as I allowed the moment to unfold I started questioning misperceptions. Is this one dinner such an imposition? Isn't this student complaint just one more of many in a day's work, how big a deal is it really? I can see neurosis for neurosis and I stop somehow. Pema Chodron's book highlights this practice of recognizing neurosis, stopping and doing something different. Move, sing, whatever. Suddenly this dumb little tune came to me (la.la.la.la, la... la,la, la, la,la, la,lalaaa....everything that you do, I am so in love with you) and I have been using it to make me stop. It is so funny that it is a built-in reality check. I even used it with Jenny when she was starting to spin... we had a great laugh but we got the point. The best lesson of the week came from my teacher, Juliette. She said, "... grandma, I don't like it when you get mad at one little thing and then you get mad at everything (the last part came with a sweeping circular motion -- highlighting the everything concept). Lesson learned. MI

Don'tcha hate pet peeves?

It occurred to me while sweeping, I think we really should. I was sweeping the front entryway, which is mostly a pleasant activity for me. It usually makes me think of my meditation teacher's grandmother who would sweep the entry to their family home in India every morning while gently singing her mantram. How nice, I would always think, to start the day preparing to receive whatever might come your way. But every day? I don't think I do any cleaning activity EVERY day. And you know, sweeping sometimes hurts my back, and this time it got me thinking about pet peeves. People who don't finish the job, that's a major pet peeve of mine. The guys had been sawing wood out front and made a mess of sawdust. They swept up the sawdust but stopped there. How could they do that? The whole front obviously needed sweeping, it wouldn't have taken that much longer, they swept a clean spot in the middle of a mess and walked away. Then I noticed how really hard sweeping had become. Easwaran's granny really was 8,000 miles away, my back was hurting, and I just kept thinking of that pet peeve of mine, how it makes me so angry when somebody doesn't finish the job. Then I got it--pet peeves are just an excuse to be angry, dang! I hate pet peeves. I stopped. I took 10 deep three-part yoga breaths and began again sweeping and humming the mantram in my mind without pain in my back. The positive vibrations attracted Joey the cat, he has no pet peeves, he just appreciates a job well done. MK

All's right with the world

Sometimes insights come from the most unlikely sources. My front bathroom, for instance. Normally, it really gets me down. It's embarrassing. It is one of the many sad stories of being a contractor's wife. The ceiling has a hole a small pony could fit through that has been "repaired" with duct tape, the flooring is ancient vinyl, and the toilet is so old it can no longer flush itself and needs a large pitcherful of water poured down it every time it's used. We call it the Beverly Hillbillies' bathroom, and "Pa" won't fix it because of the damn-domino-dilemma. The real problem is the fancy lifetime tile roof that wasn't installed properly is 30 years old and now leaks, which causes the hole in the sheetrock ceiling, which cannot be repaired until the roof is replaced, or it will just happen again, and the roof can't be replaced because it is $50,000+. It would be silly to replace the toilet without replacing the flooring, and since the tub and surround also need replacing we really can't do it until we're ready to do the full bathroom remodel, which we probably could afford, but can't do because the hole in the ceiling... because the roof...damn-domino-dilemma. The amount of angst this bathroom has provided me, added to a myriad of other negative thoughts, has sometimes bordered on depression. But the other day, the bathroom made me smile. It turns out that the amount of time the bath water needs to run before it is hot enough for a shower equates exactly to the amount of water needed to fill the large pitcher we have to use to flush the toilet. I love that. I love to see symmetry in action, the beauty of balance makes me feel that all is right with the world. Symmetry is very important to me. It is the beauty of form arising from balanced proportions. It is the property of remaining invariant under certain change. Even in my broken bathroom, there is symmetry. The bathroom isn't really broken, it just works in a different and unique way, and actually that is really okay with me, it's what I want in life. I want a life that works for me, that's true to what is important to me. Truthfully, the only reason I care about the bathroom and the hole and the toilet is because of what someone else might think of it. I've wasted so much happiness worrying about what other people think. It's really time to channel that energy into manifesting an authentic life. Symmetry, authenticity, integrity, all found in the one crazy bathroom. MK

Raising color consciousness

An email newsletter from a quilting company got me thinking about color as an agent for positive change. Here's what Luana Rubin of eQuilter.com had to say."...I believe that if we strip away our expectations and rules, and look at color from our heart, we are drawn to the colors that express the emotions we are feeling, or the emotions we would like to experience. We crave certain colors, the way our bodies crave certain nutrients. Maybe we are not ready to feel a powerful emotion like passion or anger, but we are instinctively drawn to red because it helps us to access that feeling on a deeper level. Maybe we are craving peace but are unable to "let go," so we bring in the colors of tropical waters to soothe us in the meantime." I've never purposely chosen color to change my mood, but I do believe I've been drawn to colors based on mood. Now what I'm thinking is that when we're blue, we really need a little pink, or maybe orange AND pink! I've always been aware of choosing colors to create a peaceful mood around the house, and I have deeply entrenched notions of what colors are "right" for me to wear. I need to get over it! I'm going to practice not going with the mood, but consciously choosing color to brighten my day. I need to branch out, and I definitely need something orange. MK