What's around the corner.

I spend a lot of time frustrated about what is or isn't around the next corner. As I'm heading down my path, my instinct is to anticipate the road ahead and what may be in my way. I set up expectations in my mind about what should or shouldn't be there, and how I will address those situations. I know, that isn't such a bad tactic, and my last post covered the concept of being ready for anything. But I have a habit of taking this too far. I can get so caught up in what I think should be there, that I become frustrated when it isn't.

And the same with people. Perhaps more so. I set up expectations of how they ought to behave. Often I find myself disappointed by them. And so much energy is spent in frustration that the result is me stopping in the middle of my path, and bellowing in anger over the injustice of the whole world for not following the most obviously rational course.

I am learning to notice myself in this place; notice how I lurch to a halt. I am learning to let go of those expectations, and respect the choices others make. I am learning to see beyond my scope. I am learning why I am so resistant to letting go of what isn't in my control.

So now I still routinely find myself standing in the middle of my road, bellowing out to the world about injustice, but there is a new addition. I have a person standing behind me now. When I say “That obstacle shouldn't be there, damnit!”; that person calmly says “Sure it is.” When I rage “Those people should behave accordingly!”; this person patiently informs me “No they shouldn't.” When I am stopped, seething and scared of not just knowing what lies ahead, but of not having control over it, this person gently pushes me forward and whispers “You can do this... you can keep going. You are capable of finding your way.”

I don't know this person very well yet, but I seem to have gotten his driver's license mixed up with mine.

Hazard Warnings

My favorite road sign is “Caution: loose rock ahead”. Sentimentality harkens back to a time when I have traveled through treacherous mountain passes barely two lanes wide with freshly shaved stone walls on one side and precarious drop-offs on the opposite. You know there is danger here, because it is obvious. The only things separating you from doom is a small shallow water ditch on one side, and a strategically placed band of dandelions on the other. And yes, loose gravel does sometimes end up on the road, but you are going so slow it is never really an issue. As a child I always thought it meant a boulder was loose somewhere ahead and it was just a matter of time before it rolled down the mountain onto our luckless car. I kept my eyes peeled for the loose one, just in case.

The benefit of that sign is arguably dubious, though, because the dangers along the path outweigh the danger of these loose rocks which may be flung into the windshield of following cars. Perhaps more helpful is the “Caution: dip in the road” sign. Normal, unassuming roads suddenly beset with coffee-spilling, tongue-biting, back-jarring dips that would otherwise come out of nowhere. We are given the chance to slow down and mentally brace ourselves for the upcoming dip, which is typically significant indeed. What a helpful sign.

But life isn't always offering signs for the hazards ahead. And we all know the hazards can potentially be catastrophic. Lost jobs, health problems, accidents and more. Call them life-shocks; a shock to the system brought about because life happens. Sometimes there are signs, and even professions with tons of experienced people laden with research that can offer warnings. Sometimes, they show up when you least expect.

When you have a destination in mind, it is a pretty good idea to be prepared for hazards in the road. That isn't to say you spend all your time worrying about the snow-chains fitting properly as you plan a trip to the desert. No, I mean mentally. Be ready to make choices that could be tough. Be ready to accept the unexpected. Anger and frustration won't keep that dip from being in the road, or that loose rock from falling on your car. But accepting the fact it occurred will give you the mental and emotional space to begin looking for alternate routes, or take accurate assessments of the damage. When you have a destination in mind, you don't want to stop, but sometimes you may have to “Detour”.

To Dodge or Not to Dodge the Mudpuddle

Perhaps I am immature, and perhaps I am just in touch with my inner-child. You know, that innocent, playful state of being that wants to run up to someone on the street, touch them on the shoulder and yell “Tag! Your it!”, then run away.

Many folks would frown on the immaturity of this state of being, and I can certainly appreciate how overdoing it could result in some bad decision-making. But why deny yourself moments of bliss, moments of joy? Can't a person over-do maturity as well?

In my last post, I suggested we all let go of the fears and just dance. This time I wanted to offer the argument that it is not only OK to dance like nobody is watching, but OK to be silly, and laugh, and play. Embrace life. Make a silly face at your kids across the dinner table when they least expect it.

I still remember my dad making these “Whoosh!” sounds and make this sudden full-body twist like he was about to take off from the kitchen like a rocket. He never did it when mom was looking, oh no. And my sister and I would plea my mother to turn her head at that exact moment; “Mom! He did it! Your missing it!”. Mom, wasn't left out of the joke for being too serious, or to mature to acknowledge dad was doing this silly thing, I realized some time later. In fact, Mom was playing along, in her fashion, letting us believe she just never happened to see it. And she would tell us, with absolute seriousness accompanying that twinkle in her eye, that dad was certainly was NOT “whooshing” his way around the kitchen. They might not have been Laurel and Hardy, but they understood how important it is to never let go of your inner child. They allowed themselves the opportunity to play.

So when you are moving along down your chosen path, and encounter an opportunity to play, why not take it? Why not jump in the mud-puddles of life? What harm is there? And think of the joy to be had, laughing, loving, and living the life blessed to us.

Dance

“Dance like no one is watching, Love like you'll never be hurt, Sing like no one is listening, Live like it's heaven on earth.” William Purkey

How many quotes can I come up with that would convey a similar message? Dozens, hundreds... dare I suggest thousands? And why? Because it is so honest and so simple of a concept. And yet, we get have these quotes because we need constant reminders to let go.

To just let go.

Let go of the fear: the fear you will be noticed, or hurt, or fail. Let go of the doubt, and the frustration. Let go of the anxiety and worry. Let it go, and just dance.

Stop listening to the voices in your head that are telling you lies. You aren't smart? You aren't beautiful? You aren't loved? They will use you, or abuse you, or or any number of other lyrics from Annie Lennox songs? Let all of that go, and just sing. Your own words, your own passion, your own voice.

Love is a gift. Give it away free of pretense or expectation. Cherish it when you receive it, for the gift that it is, for as long as it is given. When it isn't offered anymore, let it go. You still hold a gift in your hands, in your heart, waiting to be given again.

Let go of all that which holds you back from finding your voice, and letting you love, and inspiring you to dance. Look at where you are; a Heaven or a Hell. What thoughts are keeping you there? What choices? You can choose not to dance, but think of the joy you will miss out on. You can choose not to sing, and never express your passions. You can withhold your love, and never know who will cherish it. You can hold on to a Hell of your making, or let it go, and enjoy a Heaven all around you.

Walk a mile in their shoes

I'm resentful of many people. From ex-girlfriends to the unknown cop sitting at a speed-trap, I am holding a lot of anger and frustration in my heart for these people. I can rationalize holding that anger for years and years. And in doing so, burrow that resentment into my soul like a tick burrowing into my shoulder.

A teacher once made the statement “Resentment is the poison we take hoping the other person will die”. The argument is this; resentment is MY ill-will, affecting only me. It saps my energy, keeps me in a state of unease, and negatively effects how I see the world and interact with others. The philosophy of Jesus suggests we let go of the anger and hurt we feel from the actions of others and offer them peace and love instead. In doing so, we open up a line of communication, an avenue of connection, and within ourselves a path to understanding them. Resentment, like any severe pain, can override all other stimuli; emotional pain no less so.

But my heart tells me forgiveness is an acceptance of the behavior, and a relinquishing of my boundaries. Am I expressing my integrity by allowing others to walk all over me, treating me horribly, without defending myself? Must I accept an injustice?

The short answer is “No”. The long answer is long because of the nuance. Forgiveness can have boundaries, and is most healthy when it maintains them. I can forgive an ex-girlfriend her actions, her state of mind, her humanity. I can accept the reality that she may be struggling with her own difficulties, or striving to maintain her own boundaries. I can accept I don't know everything there is to know, nor have the power to control all that doesn't suit my wishes. I can set my own boundaries, basing them on what kind of person I wish to be, and what I am willing to offer. I can question my own fears and insecurities and address them, and offer myself forgiveness for having them. I can accept my own humanity.

I want to offer love and compassion. I want to let go of fears and frustrations. I want to find and project the person I admire, the person I know I am. I believe letting go of my perceptions of reality, of the way I have colored events and people with my fears, will allow me to find the capacity for love in the face of heartbreak, and compassion in the face of perceived injustice. It will let me accept the reality that I can never know what it would be like to walk in their shoes, but that a human like me, flawed and beautiful and struggling to live life the best they know how, does.

The Scenic Route

First you notice. The saying is “Stop and smell the roses”, but what does that mean? Simply, to appreciate what is there along the journey as you travel it. I believe in this philosophy very much. And I have many anecdotes I tell which relate to that very concept; of finding myself in a memorable place, and taking the moment to fully enjoy it.

But it can be so much more. I offer using this moment of clarity to notice yourself as well. Here I am, walking along a path, beautiful roses standing tall beside me, their scent coloring the air a blissful pink. And what is going on within me? Contentment? An itch along my left thigh? A burgeoning sneeze?

When we hear that line we always imagine stopping to appreciate the finer things, the beauty around us. Such a loss, because even the ugly can have boundless merit. The homeless woman outside the convenience store, the littered fast-food carton, the ignored dog feces. Life isn't just the pretty, but the awful and unwanted as well.

While within us we can take the moment to appreciate the revulsion, the resentment, the fear that our minds automatically leap to. Why do we abhor the blaring music, avoid eye contact with the overweight woman, or fear the dangerous-looking man?

The first step is to notice, and that sets us along a path ripe with opportunity, because the second step is to locate the truth of what is around us. The roses affect my allergies, the dog feces offends my picture of how things ought to be, and the dangerous-looking man engages my fears. Within us is a tumultuous pot of emotional gumbo, churning forth bits of anxiety, love and revulsion in heaping ladle-fulls. So often we stop paying attention to the ingredients of each mouthful, believing we don't need the details to enjoy the soup.

I suggest this; take a moment to stop and look around you, and appreciate where you have arrived. While you are there, look at yourself as well. Notice the condition you have arrived in. Allow yourself to accept the truth of what you see. If all you wish to see are the flowers, the beautiful, fragrant, silky roses, then you may fail to notice the thorns. And while you are sucking your pricked finger in frustration, you can honestly ask yourself "why didn't I look closer?" In that honest answer lies the key to getting the most out of your journey.

Pain

I'm Angry.

I'm Hurt.

And I'm feeling sorry for myself. Because if I don't, who will? I can tell I am definitely in a slump. I've been here before, recognize the signs, can even see what the root cause of it is. This is because I took a seminar a while back which taught me some ways to notice, and once noticed, how to dig deep enough to find the underlying thought processes. And let me tell you it can be revealing.

I'm not sure this is making me feel better, though. Revealing something hideous can be cathartic, or it can be discouraging. But courage is a form of danger-seeking. In the seminar it is called “Testing your Edge”, akin to stepping up to the edge of a cliff and leaning over simply because you know it will make you scared, only with emotions. With anything, really. Because the concept is that we are all capable of so much, yet we hold ourselves back because of fear, and the various facets of fear. Personal history is seen like a path full of perils we faced, and the road ahead as a collection of fears based on experience. But we can overcome those fears. We may need some guidance, but we can. Everyone can.

So what is my fear? Value. I am old enough that I have a full path behind me so far, lots of rejection, lots of failures. Many points in my life I didn't live up to expectation, mine or others. Many times I set my expectations high enough that failure was inevitable.

I think I am leading myself to a particular pain from my past, one where I see only failure on my part. I was horrible in school. I am a clever learner, meaning I am smart enough to get a concept quickly. I sucked in knowledge like a sponge, and am still quite adept at maintaining a degree of understanding on par with my doctorate wielding friends. But I didn't put any effort into my education. I didn't complete homework, I acted out in class, I was distracted. And though I could pass a test with the highest marks in school, I would fail the course from lack of practical participation. And I never exhibited a drive to improve. I went to community college, but the same habits appeared, so I failed. I spoke highly of my goals, but never set out to reach them in earnest.

So, in admitting to all this I must come back around to why I am angry and hurt. That is because of a woman who rejected me. And because of my new found powers of introspection I can see I wasn't good enough. I am hurt because I have no hope for that relationship, and angry because of that powerlessness. But more than those things, I feel defeated because I blew the chance myself. I know it was my lack of effort that lead to my failure. And knowing that means so very little in the context because I still cannot change any of it.

I can try to paint it all in some rosy picture of self discovery and bright future, but I am not convincing myself this time. Flying requires more than just happy thoughts, it requires effort and that means discipline, and I have never exhibited that.

Finding Direction

My friend is going through a struggle.

But this blog isn't about him. I have spent the last few months jealous of several people I know. They had offered meaningful support to friends, and I wished I could just like them. Suddenly found myself given an opportunity to offer this friend some support. I didn't remember the jealousy I have been holding until now, and I haven't compared what I wanted to accomplish if my time came with what I actually did until now.

And I think that is good. Because I didn't give any answers, nor did I ask pertinent, leading questions. I guess I asked a couple direct questions, and that may have been sufficiently challenging. Instead, I offered arguments based on my own dramas. I was making statements, I hoped, which could be seen as mind-talk on his behalf. At that moment I was expressing all the frustration of not knowing how to handle the situation, of all the pitfalls one could fall into if handled in certain ways. I wanted to express, through the use of my imaginative drama, all the possible courses of action, connecting and disconnecting, at his disposal. My hope was this; by being in this place for him, he could find a way to disassociate and thereby find the path he truly wanted to take.

I am not sure if it was effective, but I realize it was not the way I wanted to handle the opportunity when I was given it. I have wanted to emulate the impressive ways others have shown support. I was jealous of their insight, of their tactics when engaging. I knew, however, that my friend wasn't looking for depth, but resolution. He was frustrated, suspicious, worried, and he wanted to find the path out of that. He wanted bolstering without pandering. He wanted to locate his own insight through the fog of his mind-talk. He wanted to work out where he was and why, so he could remap where he wanted to go. My stand wasn't adversarial. Quite the contrary, I joined his frustration; pointing out all the injustice as well as the pitfalls. I reached out and wrangled my own drama and forced it to regurgitate all the spew I would have felt were I in his shoes. And I made that leashed demon heel, so I could show him what it looked like.

I spoke to him a moment ago and asked if that was support enough. He assured me it was just as he wanted. He didn't need to know how to find his direction, he only needed to know where he was.

My support wasn't as glossy as that of which I have been jealous. It was, however, mine. And it was valuable. Emulating someone else's style is insincere. And my demon's are not just a hindrance; they can be a tool. When I practice noticing the path I am on, when I stop and look around, I develop a skill that is valuable. It is something I can offer others that is uniquely mine.

The First Step

I spend a lot of time hiding. It has taken 30+ years of my life to realize it, but here I am, seeing more clearly than I ever have before, watching myself run away and hide.

I have heard so many cliched statements about how difficult growth can be: The first step is the hardest, knowing is half the battle, leopard can't change his spots, etc. I don't know how beneficial these statements are, they all seem to imply a powerless condition is inevitable. I guess that much is true, but it is a perceived powerlessness, self imposed.

Having said that, it is real, nonetheless. Perhaps more real than any alternative. Perhaps the only real truth among those statements.

What I am facing, now, is the challenge of not just realizing that truth, but making the choice to NOT be powerless. But I don't want to give that up. Powerlessness is not only comfortable and safe, it requires less effort. I am talking about complacency. Complacent with a way of thinking, with a lifestyle.

So, what does it mean to be lazy? I have in front of me the tools to build a better life for myself, but don't have the ambition. Why not? Is it because I am happy? I see how other people live, have even tasted that in small doses, and I crave it still. So why hesitate? Because it would require effort I am not willing to put forth. Why? What is there to lose, and what might I gain? Logically, there is no excuse, and I am hard-pressed to come up with one. So, why?

I envy driven people, even as I recognize how that can be as detrimental as complacency. Too much drivenness and you lose sight of the reasons, too much complacency and you lose contact with the opportunities.

But rather than pity myself and wallow in envy, I wish to explore the reasons why. My mother said I was always complacent, never concerned about what clothes I wore, always ready to follow direction. I was a mild child. Until school, when my complacency was challenged. Homework was an issue. I never did it. I was content with understanding the subject and being able to adequately utilize the knowledge. I had no need to continue to process it over and over. Even now, my mind rebels at such tasks; I will sit and watch a blank wall before studying for a test, the irony being I can read a novel for several days in a row. My attention span slips through my grasp like a newly landed trout. Am I A.D.D.? A counselor in college told me no, yet a Discovery channel show tells my mother yes. Does that matter? Part of me wants it to, because it is an excuse to stop trying. While another part says it doesn't matter, I still have control, I notice I rebel against that. I don't want control, I want to let that go. I don't want the struggle, I just want to exist. I want to be happy, but I don't want to work for it. I want respect, but I don't want to earn it.

I want to grow, but I have a multitude of obstacles, and logical reasons, and cleverly imbedded habits, that play me like a mark in a confidence game. I have tools, though, tools I can use to alter those habits, and debunk those logic-arguments. Once I argued with a friend before I received these tools, and told her I already knew the secret; self-discipline is the secret. And I didn't have it. But I accepted her challenge, learned the tools, and examined myself critically. I have since drawn this conclusion: The tools can be used to find motivation, the motivation needed to use the tools. It is a self-contained loop.

My boggle is “how do I enter the loop”? Another friend tells me, “just do it!” Piece of cake, but he has self-discipline, he has motivation. He is, in fact, easily driven, so for him it is an easy switch to turn on. Self discipline may be a habitual way of thinking. Part of me hopes it is, but also dreads it, because even as habits can be learned over time, that would require enough self-discipline to instill it. That much self-discipline wouldn't require the effort.

So... is this the end of the story? Logically one cannot pick themselves up off the ground, there is no reaction without action. Or do I recognize a confidence game being played? It certainly has the tell-tale signs, and more introspection leads me to believe that, yes, this is simply another line of excuses, another twist of logic. Well done! Only... the logic seems sound. Now what?

I can hear my friend now “So you want it easy instead of hard. Why?” Seems silly to me. Why would anyone want a struggle? What is there to prove? I don't mind exploring, but I could care less who is impressed by my struggle (another con-tactic?). Ah, good observation on my part. Maybe there are plenty of con-tactics I could come up with... the meaning once I wade past all the bullshit my mind is going to place before me, the end result would be, simply... just do it. Just take the step, the step that will lead to many other steps, which will lead to all the things in life you want. Just take the step, the one which requires effort, and self-disciple, all the traits you don't have but could if you only took that step. Fine, I can take that step. I can try anything once. I can motivate myself into a frenzy and take that step! I can find the motivation, staple a picture of a better life to my forehead, load the car with inspirational cd's, and tattoo "You Rock" on my chest, backwards. I can take that first step. I can take the FUCK out of it!

Now take another.

Seems the first step isn't the hardest. Nope. The second one is.

Beginnings

“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth; “
Robert Frost -

You're walking along when suddenly things seem different. You look around and, without preamble, realize that you are, actually, looking around. You turn and look behind you and see, really see, where you have been. You see what you passed by, the path you took, the obstacles that failed to deter you. You look and see, with the clarity of hindsight, how you addressed those obstacles and moved beyond them. And you realize, because now you are truly looking and finally are able, you didn't see everything.

So you look ahead, now, with the new found wisdom of clarity. You see the path before you, and squint to make out all the obstacles. You formulate a plan in your head; a plan for each one, infallibly based on lessons from the path behind. Except, in the distance, you can't see all the obstacles. You don't have a way to tell what lies ahead, not completely. The path behind may give you clues, but you are just now seeing them.

It isn't about looking ahead in preparation, or behind in regret and pride. Look around you now. The one lesson you failed to learn was to see where you were in the moment.

It's ok to wander. Its ok to explore. Take the moment when you become aware and use that awareness to see what lies around you, now. The path behind is, well, behind you. The path ahead is unknown. Enjoy where you are now. There is no other time to do so.