I think I've temporarily lost my levity. Don't know what's changed. Kind of feels like I'm not a good person if I'm not trying all the time. I think I allow myself to rest quite a bit, though it gets frustrating when it seems like I end up resting all the time. But even now, when I ask myself why I'm striving to do anything, I just get this unsatisfying feeling of some vague spiritual thing.
The title story of The Song of the Bird reminds me of you. It would surprise me if that surprised you.
I'm reading that book a little at a time, in the order it's written like de Mello suggests. When the first story blew me away (I filled the page with my reactions and insights inspired by the idea of pre-masticated fruit), I, of course, had the idea that every story would be so fruitful and that I would read one each day and fill up the page. One of my strongest patterns seems to be making patterns. I think I do that to attempt to control the chaos I feel all around me, and inside me. The chaos scares me because there are parts of me I don't know well, they got buried early, but they feel barely controlled and contained, and it takes a lot of energy to keep them buried.
Anyway, the next day when I read the second story, I didn't have much of a reaction to it, so I read on until I did. See how disciplined I am? The second story that made me pause was The Song of the Bird. Koans. Dayle stories. Same thing.
Even though I asked you about the non-nun nunnery this morning, I didn't mention that one thing I had realized was that I'm not sure I need to go away to a convent/retreat. That escapism is a reaction to my frustration at my not acting in my own best interest enough. There are several things I can do here that I'm pretty sure will change things for me dramatically. Not even particularly difficult things, but Inertia is fighting me. The character in my valley Rhyll that represents this aspect of me is Tar, the Mola-Mola: Big, ugly fish with teeny fins that paddles frantically but never gets anywhere. He hates change, any change, hates it, hates it, hates it.
If I want my tomorrow to be different, I have to do things differently today.
I create the world I desire by believing that it already exists.
The point between rest and striving -- and just keep trying different ways.
Tonight I stopped at the story The Royal Pigeon. Ouch. Apropos. Ouch ouch ouch.
Then I picked up Vaughan's Gifts and flipped it open randomly. I came upon The World (pg 40): "...It is the witness to your state of mind...you will believe that others do to you exactly what you think you did to them...The world cannot dictate the goal for which you search, unless you gave it power to do so..."
I don't think I'm very happy with myself right now, and I'm trying to run away from myself by running away from the world. But I don't think I'd be very happy with myself there, either, wherever I found myself to be.
I've known for a long time that to really overcome myself, break free from my own jujitsu, the best, and most difficult, place to achieve that is where it all began and continues to be. Right here.
I just figured out something: the reason I'm "so hard on myself" is because I had to be in order to get to this point, the point where I was ready to meet you and really start changing things. In a way, I need to start over from this point, unlearning the push and learning the ease, the mid-way point of no sensation. Jesus, what have I gotten myself into now? ; )
Thanks for your help and guidance,
Nancy
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