One of the many joys of sitting quietly in my apartment is when my upstairs neighbor comes home and I get to listen to her (usually several minutes long) greetings and subsequent conversation with her Yorkie; Mr. Biggs. It makes me want to know her. Nothing else about this person has ever been appealing to me, but hearing her little dogs excitedly clicking nails on the wood floor and her high-pitched, squealing hellos as she walks in the door... I'd actually like to hug her.
Today she told him she had missed him and then went on to describe how cold it was outside as she put his leash on. Then I heard them come down the stairs, go outside, her tell him good boy, her mail box opening, and her describing to Mr. Biggs what she found inside.
Maybe she can feel the mental hug I'm sending through my ceiling up into her floor.
Sunday, February 23, 2014
Wherever You Go, There you Are
In Jon Kabat-Zinn’s work, Wherever You Go There You Are; Mindfulness Meditation In Everyday Life, he explains in his introduction that much of what is in the book may seem repetitious but for the reader to understand that this is not the case and that each section varies slightly from the next. When reading the book I found that there were many phrases which were repeated several times such as, “present moment”, “awareness”, and “non-doing” (among others) so I can see how this may lead some readers to feel that sections of the book are paraphrases of other sections-- however my experience did not give me that impression. For me, each chapter had a particular bit of insight, advice, or observation that was helpful in and of itself. Everything is related of course, but there are so many ways to look at any thought or idea that it is necessary (especially when writing about mindfulness) to examine and address as many angles as possible. In short, I felt that the book was mostly helpful and below will elaborate on specific sections which assisted me and sections which did not.
To begin with the Introduction; generally when reading books I have the bad habit of not reading the Preface or Introduction but did so with this book. I thought the way in which he explained that most people are lost in themselves and are alive but not really living was a great way to ease someone into reading about mindfulness and meditation as most people can relate to that feeling. I am/was one of those people, and reading this Introduction made me want to continue reading the book and opened my mind to what he had to say. Most particularly, the third paragraph on page xiii where he discusses losing touch with ourselves and living in a type of cloud that zaps our creativity and if we aren’t careful could live inside of our entire lives. That is something I really identify with and something that worries me about my own life. Because it seems that working as hard as one has to in school and at jobs leaves one no time to just be. Upon finishing Wherever You Go There You Are however, I realize that making that time is one of the most important things a person can do for themselves.
The very first area which I marked for myself to come back to later was on page 39,”The only way you can do anything of value is to have the effort come out of non-doing and to let go of caring whether it will be of use or not.” A tough concept for me because I have a very particular way of thinking. I like to get things done as quickly and as efficiently as possible which means lots of multitasking, list making, and planning. These have always served me well in getting done what I need to get done on a regular basis, so this particular line has been troublesome to me. The first time I read it I immediately began thinking back to see if there were times in my life where I implemented the above and where it may have worked for me. I came up with the art and writing I used to do quite regularly, and realized that when I was drawing, painting, or writing, it was in a totally different spirit than anything else I do/did. While I did those things I was also in a state of non-doing at the same time. The outcome did not matter, I was in no hurry, nor was I attempting masterpieces. Coincidentally, the things I worked on when I was able to attain that state of mind are some of the best things I’ve done. When I read the above line some days later, it became even clearer what the meaning really was-- and a few days later reading it again, even more clarity arose. It’s definitely something I need to work on, but also something I most likely would not have realized I needed to work on without reading this book.
The next section that really affected me was on page 48 and 49 where he speaks about, being in a hurry, impatience, and about how society can control a person’s mind. I used this section in one of the week’s Informal Writes, so I won’t elaborate too much more, but it seems so intuitive for him to state that just below the surface of impatience is anger (48). This is certainly true in many of the people I encounter daily as well as within myself, and having it out there in black and white makes me think about it more than I would have otherwise. I ponder what the reason is for my impatience, and digging deeper, what is the reason for my anger. Asking myself these questions is helpful to let go of those things (since so many of them are unimportant or out of my control) and just let myself be.
The fourth and final section which helped me in my meditation; (most specifically to find time to actually do it) was on page 162 where Kabat-Zinn talks about, in the first paragraph, everyone’s consciousness being connected and that living in love and kindness within yourself not only helps you but helps the rest of the world. This is something that is easy to forget. It was very helpful to me to read it and to remember how important letting go of anger and living in love and kindness really is. Not only does doing this make you feel better about yourself and who you are, but also helps you to accept others for who they are-- letting yourself be and letting others be.
I had a hard time finding anything within his writings that I didn’t find helpful. Only one section sent up a little red flag for me, but I believe it’s only because I am so dreadfully busy all the time. On page 11 where he discusses stopping and states that stopping makes things become simpler. That was a little difficult for me to digest as when I “stop”, things seem to get more overwhelming because that’s when I start going over everything that needs to be done. I do understand what he means here, but the way he phrased it made me think,”Wait a minute...”
As far as my personal meditation goes, I feel that Wherever You Go There You Are has really helped to get my brain back to where it needs to be. The subjects he discusses and the manner in which he phrases them gave me many of the tools I needed to get myself back on track, or off track (depending on how you look at things). I have a hard time though with meditating with groups of people as I am usually physically uncomfortable in some way and I feel too nervous to move around while the room is so quiet. When I’m nervous to move, the more I think about needing to move and the more problem I have letting go of thoughts. Addressing my personal time meditation-- I need to convince myself that it is a priority and stop putting it off to get other school work done. It’s a tough thing for me, because while I agree with and long to work toward everything Kabat-Zinn writes about, when I’m not surrounded by that mindset I convince myself other things are more important, that I don’t have time, and that I’ll do it later.
Written for a meditation "class" I took in 2011. I was searching my documents for a Kabat-Zinn quote I remembered, ended up reading this, liked it, and decided to add it.
To begin with the Introduction; generally when reading books I have the bad habit of not reading the Preface or Introduction but did so with this book. I thought the way in which he explained that most people are lost in themselves and are alive but not really living was a great way to ease someone into reading about mindfulness and meditation as most people can relate to that feeling. I am/was one of those people, and reading this Introduction made me want to continue reading the book and opened my mind to what he had to say. Most particularly, the third paragraph on page xiii where he discusses losing touch with ourselves and living in a type of cloud that zaps our creativity and if we aren’t careful could live inside of our entire lives. That is something I really identify with and something that worries me about my own life. Because it seems that working as hard as one has to in school and at jobs leaves one no time to just be. Upon finishing Wherever You Go There You Are however, I realize that making that time is one of the most important things a person can do for themselves.
The very first area which I marked for myself to come back to later was on page 39,”The only way you can do anything of value is to have the effort come out of non-doing and to let go of caring whether it will be of use or not.” A tough concept for me because I have a very particular way of thinking. I like to get things done as quickly and as efficiently as possible which means lots of multitasking, list making, and planning. These have always served me well in getting done what I need to get done on a regular basis, so this particular line has been troublesome to me. The first time I read it I immediately began thinking back to see if there were times in my life where I implemented the above and where it may have worked for me. I came up with the art and writing I used to do quite regularly, and realized that when I was drawing, painting, or writing, it was in a totally different spirit than anything else I do/did. While I did those things I was also in a state of non-doing at the same time. The outcome did not matter, I was in no hurry, nor was I attempting masterpieces. Coincidentally, the things I worked on when I was able to attain that state of mind are some of the best things I’ve done. When I read the above line some days later, it became even clearer what the meaning really was-- and a few days later reading it again, even more clarity arose. It’s definitely something I need to work on, but also something I most likely would not have realized I needed to work on without reading this book.
The next section that really affected me was on page 48 and 49 where he speaks about, being in a hurry, impatience, and about how society can control a person’s mind. I used this section in one of the week’s Informal Writes, so I won’t elaborate too much more, but it seems so intuitive for him to state that just below the surface of impatience is anger (48). This is certainly true in many of the people I encounter daily as well as within myself, and having it out there in black and white makes me think about it more than I would have otherwise. I ponder what the reason is for my impatience, and digging deeper, what is the reason for my anger. Asking myself these questions is helpful to let go of those things (since so many of them are unimportant or out of my control) and just let myself be.
The fourth and final section which helped me in my meditation; (most specifically to find time to actually do it) was on page 162 where Kabat-Zinn talks about, in the first paragraph, everyone’s consciousness being connected and that living in love and kindness within yourself not only helps you but helps the rest of the world. This is something that is easy to forget. It was very helpful to me to read it and to remember how important letting go of anger and living in love and kindness really is. Not only does doing this make you feel better about yourself and who you are, but also helps you to accept others for who they are-- letting yourself be and letting others be.
I had a hard time finding anything within his writings that I didn’t find helpful. Only one section sent up a little red flag for me, but I believe it’s only because I am so dreadfully busy all the time. On page 11 where he discusses stopping and states that stopping makes things become simpler. That was a little difficult for me to digest as when I “stop”, things seem to get more overwhelming because that’s when I start going over everything that needs to be done. I do understand what he means here, but the way he phrased it made me think,”Wait a minute...”
As far as my personal meditation goes, I feel that Wherever You Go There You Are has really helped to get my brain back to where it needs to be. The subjects he discusses and the manner in which he phrases them gave me many of the tools I needed to get myself back on track, or off track (depending on how you look at things). I have a hard time though with meditating with groups of people as I am usually physically uncomfortable in some way and I feel too nervous to move around while the room is so quiet. When I’m nervous to move, the more I think about needing to move and the more problem I have letting go of thoughts. Addressing my personal time meditation-- I need to convince myself that it is a priority and stop putting it off to get other school work done. It’s a tough thing for me, because while I agree with and long to work toward everything Kabat-Zinn writes about, when I’m not surrounded by that mindset I convince myself other things are more important, that I don’t have time, and that I’ll do it later.
Written for a meditation "class" I took in 2011. I was searching my documents for a Kabat-Zinn quote I remembered, ended up reading this, liked it, and decided to add it.
Thursday, January 23, 2014
50+, 25-30, 15-20, 5-10, 6 or less. (Words that is.) #2
The majority of grown men who fish do not appreciate chubby ten year old girls telling them matter of factly that they're filleting improperly-- which I did, many times,"There'll be bones in the walleye if you do it like that." I'd say from the doorway of the fish cleaning house- as we called it.
It sat in the gully away from the office and cabins because fish smell-- they smell even worse when they're dead-- a bucket of their guts often resting in a corner.
I loved to watch people clean fish; there's an art to doing it correctly, preserving the most meat, the best filet.
When the rusty old screen door slammed, I'd go running down to the stinky old building.
Then after they left squeeze the swim bladders in my fingers.
It sat in the gully away from the office and cabins because fish smell-- they smell even worse when they're dead-- a bucket of their guts often resting in a corner.
I loved to watch people clean fish; there's an art to doing it correctly, preserving the most meat, the best filet.
When the rusty old screen door slammed, I'd go running down to the stinky old building.
Then after they left squeeze the swim bladders in my fingers.
50+, 25-30, 15-20, 5-10, 6 or less. (Words that is.)
We thought,"what the hell," and went up to the cabin anyway despite it being January and the place having no heat and Leah's mom telling us the pipes would be frozen because her deadbeat dad had been too "toasted" to maintain it like he should have-- we took the Jeep.
On the way we discussed the temperature and how we're all gonna be fucked when the last glacier melts and all the nut job East and West coast livers invade Minnesota 'cause their villas are flooded.
We four by foured it up the driveway, unloaded, and when we stopped moving realized as the sweat on our necks began to freeze, that coming may not have been the best idea.
Leah suggested cooking might warm us-- especially cooking with booze, so she did.
Coriander and rosemary chicken, side of whiskey.
On the way we discussed the temperature and how we're all gonna be fucked when the last glacier melts and all the nut job East and West coast livers invade Minnesota 'cause their villas are flooded.
We four by foured it up the driveway, unloaded, and when we stopped moving realized as the sweat on our necks began to freeze, that coming may not have been the best idea.
Leah suggested cooking might warm us-- especially cooking with booze, so she did.
Coriander and rosemary chicken, side of whiskey.
Living In Dreams
I've been waking myself up with my own voice every night for the past week. After a particularly pleasant dream on Saturday, I began describing its details to a friend (who was not present) while still asleep. I awoke saying aloud,"And it was so cool because it was so real, you know?" Then opened my eyes and immediately wished I could go back to sleep.
Throughout the remainder of the day I reminisced fondly on the trip my new friends and I had taken to a festival the night before and of how kind and accepting they all were. I recalled the effortlessness in which I could move and breathe (unlike my corporal life) and the mannerisms of the girl I connected with most; her odd refusal to use the door of her house, always crawling through a window. I was so at ease with all those people. Painlessly I approached them speaking with nary a stammer-- eye contact and all. I cracked clever jokes and made relevant, intellectual comments on conversational topics; I was a (humble) hit. It was as if it had always been so simple for me to talk to people and even if it hadn't, these people weren't the sort to mind-- my skulking awkwardness would never have been a deal breaker for them.
All through the drone of most days, snippets of dreams I've had over decades will flutter through my consciousness-- which is a relatively new development. They have never failed to be acutely detailed, whether or not they're enjoyable, but as the day shambles on more often than not their residual affects fade into and are replaced by actual life. I've been noticing lately that the opposite is happening and although that might be unnerving to most, since addressing it consciously, I find myself welcoming these broadcasts of displaced memories. I'll be smiling midday about something someone in a dream said, then having to pause to either remind myself it didn't actually happen, or to think critically about whether or not it did.
Because my dreams are much more pleasant and exciting than life, I've been sleeping a lot. (I suppose a professional would diagnose this as depression, certainly always a factor, but it seems different this time.) Though, even when there's some responsibility lurking in the day, if a worthwhile dream is happening, I'll sleep through it and reschedule for the next week so it's frantic and busy.
I hate sleep because it's often elusive so consequently I'm often tired, and I love it because not only is my mind reset upon waking, but also I have lived an entirely alternate reality (a frequently much more fulfilling and pleasurable one). And it changes every night, unlike real life, so prior to slumber I have something new and interesting to look forward to. I can fly in my dream universe, rarely am I judged harshly, people interact with one another rather than stare into screens, money has no place, there's magic and mystery and pretty people who want to hold my hand. I'm appreciated and valued by those I appreciate and value. I've had more than one entire years long love affair in a night's sleep-- whose smirking, blushing warmth has taken days to slowly vanish from my mind's eye.
Now and then celebrities will star in my dreams or have cameos as a friend's parent or sibling. My favorites so far have involved Maggie Smith (always a delight), Meryl Streep (a fox at any age), Nicolas Cage (oddly enough, my childhood celebrity crush), Courtney Cox (no idea) and John Goodman as Dan Conner (whom, if he was a real person, I would marry without hesitation had I any desire to be with a man ever again).
Sometimes I'll be some version of myself, in others I'm male bodied, or a woman who is nothing like me physically or mentally, or I'll be completely omnipresent-- as if I'm watching a movie. In some I'm the main character and in others I've been an extra existing only in the background. I kill people, I'm killed, weird sex happens, great sex happens, incredible transcendent conversations, time travel, gun fights, zombies and monsters, contact with extraterrestrial life, and when I wake up (whether or not I am rested) I feel satisfied and alive and part of something important.
This kind of relationship with sleep and dreaming I suppose could be considered problematic; especially considering how often I've been asking myself, why should I reach out to her/him-- what's the point. Because people don't have time for other people anymore, and when they do, my insecure and sweating, stammering, nervous-laughing character allows for only very patient and empathetic folks. Those with weaker dispositions who are less tolerant or more important find me frustrating and haven't the time to wait out my hemming and hawing perspiration for the hour or so it takes for me to become some semblance of relaxed and comfortable.
Of course the internet is an option-- where I am able to weave a clever and well-worded web of intrigue before anyone sees how painfully distressing face to face interaction frequently is for me. But as everything on the internet proves to be, these connections are fleeting and superficial, and before long I'm waiting for someone else to stumble along seeking momentary kinship.
What's unclear to me about that whole process, meeting people and making connections and such, is why everyone out there is doing the same thing yet many are so swift to blow fellow dreamers off-- disregard them as unworthy, vapid, or kooky. (Because everyone searching for a someone is most definitely a dreamer.) It's an odd paradox perpetuated by the society in which we live-- nothing is ever good enough, there's always better, the grass is always greener, and other overused euphemisms.
What's wrong then with preferring my sleeping dreams over my waking ones? Who's to say which life is more meaningful or authentic? Don't most of us lead three separate lives anyway-- person to person, screen to screen, and our sleeping dream lives? Some of us clearly place more importance on screen to screen versus person to person, deluding ourselves into believing they're one in the same-- always performing on the record and for the world. Placing more importance on dream life than on person to person life (by comparison) doesn't seem as misguided, but probably indicates some level of insanity. Yet, many an invention and work of fiction have originated from a capable person's dreams. They contain insight ripe for the picking and are a safe conduit for raw emotion that might otherwise fester and rot.
So, thinking more often about dreams than actual life can be illuminating on many levels as long as a person can differentiate between the two and see dreams as tools for introspection not as realities. Although it would be lovely were that differentiation unnecessary and we were allowed to exist in a constant state of subterfuge, never having to accept that a friend has died, because we can always eat veggies and peanut sauce with him in that other universe. And although after such a tragedy in real life, it may be too painful for the close friends who knew and loved you both to even see you anymore, in your dreams you're still inseparable confidants. But spending all your time in a dream universe is unrealistic and impossible for someone who isn't completely bonkers.
It might be better then, to live equally in two meaningful worlds: as a dreamer while awake and as a pragmatist while asleep-- taking life less seriously and considering the innate value in dreams. I can live actual life by attaching myself to art and creation with every fiber of my being-- writing about the significance of the close friendships I've had and the lives I've lead both in and out of dreams. Because I know I'm not alone-- that is to say, I'm a dreamer but I'm not the only one.
Throughout the remainder of the day I reminisced fondly on the trip my new friends and I had taken to a festival the night before and of how kind and accepting they all were. I recalled the effortlessness in which I could move and breathe (unlike my corporal life) and the mannerisms of the girl I connected with most; her odd refusal to use the door of her house, always crawling through a window. I was so at ease with all those people. Painlessly I approached them speaking with nary a stammer-- eye contact and all. I cracked clever jokes and made relevant, intellectual comments on conversational topics; I was a (humble) hit. It was as if it had always been so simple for me to talk to people and even if it hadn't, these people weren't the sort to mind-- my skulking awkwardness would never have been a deal breaker for them.
All through the drone of most days, snippets of dreams I've had over decades will flutter through my consciousness-- which is a relatively new development. They have never failed to be acutely detailed, whether or not they're enjoyable, but as the day shambles on more often than not their residual affects fade into and are replaced by actual life. I've been noticing lately that the opposite is happening and although that might be unnerving to most, since addressing it consciously, I find myself welcoming these broadcasts of displaced memories. I'll be smiling midday about something someone in a dream said, then having to pause to either remind myself it didn't actually happen, or to think critically about whether or not it did.
Because my dreams are much more pleasant and exciting than life, I've been sleeping a lot. (I suppose a professional would diagnose this as depression, certainly always a factor, but it seems different this time.) Though, even when there's some responsibility lurking in the day, if a worthwhile dream is happening, I'll sleep through it and reschedule for the next week so it's frantic and busy.
I hate sleep because it's often elusive so consequently I'm often tired, and I love it because not only is my mind reset upon waking, but also I have lived an entirely alternate reality (a frequently much more fulfilling and pleasurable one). And it changes every night, unlike real life, so prior to slumber I have something new and interesting to look forward to. I can fly in my dream universe, rarely am I judged harshly, people interact with one another rather than stare into screens, money has no place, there's magic and mystery and pretty people who want to hold my hand. I'm appreciated and valued by those I appreciate and value. I've had more than one entire years long love affair in a night's sleep-- whose smirking, blushing warmth has taken days to slowly vanish from my mind's eye.
Now and then celebrities will star in my dreams or have cameos as a friend's parent or sibling. My favorites so far have involved Maggie Smith (always a delight), Meryl Streep (a fox at any age), Nicolas Cage (oddly enough, my childhood celebrity crush), Courtney Cox (no idea) and John Goodman as Dan Conner (whom, if he was a real person, I would marry without hesitation had I any desire to be with a man ever again).
Sometimes I'll be some version of myself, in others I'm male bodied, or a woman who is nothing like me physically or mentally, or I'll be completely omnipresent-- as if I'm watching a movie. In some I'm the main character and in others I've been an extra existing only in the background. I kill people, I'm killed, weird sex happens, great sex happens, incredible transcendent conversations, time travel, gun fights, zombies and monsters, contact with extraterrestrial life, and when I wake up (whether or not I am rested) I feel satisfied and alive and part of something important.
This kind of relationship with sleep and dreaming I suppose could be considered problematic; especially considering how often I've been asking myself, why should I reach out to her/him-- what's the point. Because people don't have time for other people anymore, and when they do, my insecure and sweating, stammering, nervous-laughing character allows for only very patient and empathetic folks. Those with weaker dispositions who are less tolerant or more important find me frustrating and haven't the time to wait out my hemming and hawing perspiration for the hour or so it takes for me to become some semblance of relaxed and comfortable.
Of course the internet is an option-- where I am able to weave a clever and well-worded web of intrigue before anyone sees how painfully distressing face to face interaction frequently is for me. But as everything on the internet proves to be, these connections are fleeting and superficial, and before long I'm waiting for someone else to stumble along seeking momentary kinship.
What's unclear to me about that whole process, meeting people and making connections and such, is why everyone out there is doing the same thing yet many are so swift to blow fellow dreamers off-- disregard them as unworthy, vapid, or kooky. (Because everyone searching for a someone is most definitely a dreamer.) It's an odd paradox perpetuated by the society in which we live-- nothing is ever good enough, there's always better, the grass is always greener, and other overused euphemisms.
What's wrong then with preferring my sleeping dreams over my waking ones? Who's to say which life is more meaningful or authentic? Don't most of us lead three separate lives anyway-- person to person, screen to screen, and our sleeping dream lives? Some of us clearly place more importance on screen to screen versus person to person, deluding ourselves into believing they're one in the same-- always performing on the record and for the world. Placing more importance on dream life than on person to person life (by comparison) doesn't seem as misguided, but probably indicates some level of insanity. Yet, many an invention and work of fiction have originated from a capable person's dreams. They contain insight ripe for the picking and are a safe conduit for raw emotion that might otherwise fester and rot.
So, thinking more often about dreams than actual life can be illuminating on many levels as long as a person can differentiate between the two and see dreams as tools for introspection not as realities. Although it would be lovely were that differentiation unnecessary and we were allowed to exist in a constant state of subterfuge, never having to accept that a friend has died, because we can always eat veggies and peanut sauce with him in that other universe. And although after such a tragedy in real life, it may be too painful for the close friends who knew and loved you both to even see you anymore, in your dreams you're still inseparable confidants. But spending all your time in a dream universe is unrealistic and impossible for someone who isn't completely bonkers.
It might be better then, to live equally in two meaningful worlds: as a dreamer while awake and as a pragmatist while asleep-- taking life less seriously and considering the innate value in dreams. I can live actual life by attaching myself to art and creation with every fiber of my being-- writing about the significance of the close friendships I've had and the lives I've lead both in and out of dreams. Because I know I'm not alone-- that is to say, I'm a dreamer but I'm not the only one.
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