There are times when circumstance and people come together in a way that hindsight finds a true blessing. It may be that a common thread seems to be a thorn in the side, but instead turns out to be the first stitch that pieces together a friendship.
In the early spring of 2007, I moved into an old farmhouse in a village in the hills of southwest New Hampshire. It seemed perfect. It was spacious with two large fireplaces and a sun room that looked out on the gardens. There was a small studio sized apartment in the basement and a young woman, Kristen, was living there temporarily while waiting for the weather to warm up so that she could move out into the woods for the summer. Darcy, a nurse, lived upstairs with her two cats, Teddy and Dipstick. Teddy, a large yellow cat, and, Dipstick, a gray tiger with white at the end of her tail, could be heard on many occasions running from one end of the apartment to the other, sounding as if they were bowling over the old pine floors.
I started experiencing difficulties with the landlady early on and soon realized that the property was poorly managed and that repairs were usually done with spit and duct tape, if done at all. If the building was up to code it was probably a code devised pre-electricity. The landlady was also experiencing a deep depression and as the year went on it was becoming increasingly evident that she was not able to manage the property. Her family wanted her to sell, but she refused. This house had been in her family for years and she was reluctant to sell so soon after her mother’s death.
Kristen moved to the woods in May, living in a small campsite at the edge of a pond. She would stop by to see Darcy and I at least once a week and tell us stories of visits from beavers, bear and deer. She had informed the village police and neighbors that she was there and had permission from our landlady to live on the property. In exchange for the site, she was responsible for the mowing and raking on the grounds around the house.
It took a few months for us all to come to together and talk about the difficulties we were having with the landlady, but once the ice was broken we realized that we were each experiencing the same struggles and were not alone in feeling as if there was something very wrong. We agreed to compare notes on conversations because we were often being given different answers to the same questions. We also realized that we needed each other’s support in trying to navigate living in a place where the landlady had few boundaries and made management decisions on a whim.
Unfortunately, the two cats that I had with me when I moved into the apartment had started to act up and behaving very poorly. After weeks of struggling to change their behaviors I realized that I was not going to be able to live there peacefully unless I gave them up. I was determined to fulfill my promise of living there for a full year and I realized that even if I did move, the cats’ behavior would continue and would make finding another place difficult. It was a difficult decision and I mourned their loss.
Shortly before I left for a trip to Tibet in late August the landlady left her home in the barn. It was a few months before she returned to manage the property but she never moved back. Some of the difficulties continued but they were lessened by her absence.
As summer turned cooler and the days became shorter, we started to relax. Kristen would come to Darcy’s apartment and make dinner now and then and one night she invited us to her campsite. We met her at the end of the path with our flashlights and she guided us through the woods, along the edge of the pond and pointed out which rocks to step on to make our way over a stream. Her campsite was wonderful. Everything had been set up to make the least impact on the environment as possible. As we sat around the fire drinking hot apple cider we heard beavers slapping their tails on the surface of the pond. I had hoped to see one of the bears that had visited the campsite previously but our laughter must have warned him away. As Darcy and I walked back to the house, we agreed that it had been a beautiful night.
On still Monday nights we could hear the sound of fiddles coming from the town hall up the road. Kristen would put on a skirt and go contra dancing. I went with her once but found the packed room and the kicking legs more than I could take. However, during the evening I saw Kristen dance with a man and I was struck by the intensity of the energy between them. It was as if they had lit sparklers while they touched.
A few weeks later Kristen talked about the man she had met at the dance and how she couldn’t get him out of her mind. I knew immediately which man she talking about. I encouraged her to make some sort of move but she was unsure.
In early October, Darcy and I started to question how much longer Kristen was going to live in the woods. I was also wondering if I could afford to heat the drafty 250 years old farm house. I had an extra bedroom and I invited Kristen to spend the winter with me, rather than moving back into the cellar. She agreed and as winter moved into New Hampshire the three of us settled into semi-communal living.
It was magical. Kristen was teaching part time and was trying to decide what the next step in her life was going to be. Her biological clock was booming and she had just come out of a bad relationship. I had concerns about the agency I was working for and had just ended a short, but intense relationship. Darcy was still mourning the loss of her last relationship, but was starting to enjoy her freedom. As I look back, we were all just coming to a point of change and it was our friendship that gave us the space and freedom to relax and ease into the next phase of our lives.
Darcy and I nurtured Kristen like an adult daughter and Kristen returned the favor with her joy and desire to feed the people she loves. I would often come home to fresh muffins and chili. There were many nights when Darcy would come down with a magnificent salad of greens, pine nuts, raisins, orange slices, and whatever else she could find and we would sit down to a wonderful home cooked meal and warm bread. Some evenings Darcy would bring a couple of movies and we would sit in the living room, wrapped in comforters and afghans watching a movie. Darcy would do needlework, I would be knitting and Kristen was always working on some project for her pre-school or college aged students. By this time, I had started fostering Mia, the cat the landlady had left behind. Mia would move from one lap to another or come over to play with my yarn.
There were also nights when Bella would come to visit. Bella was Kristen’s and her ex-boyfriend’s Swiss Mountain dog. She would visit for days at a time, much to Mia’s chagrin, and her boisterous love filled the house. I loved to hear her tail hitting the cupboards as she expressed her joy at my homecoming each day.
On New Year’s Eve, Kristen danced with the man from the past summer again. They ended up going to a walk in the snow and then came home and talked until the early hours of the morning. Darcy and I watched as Kristen started to fall in love and began to let go of the hurt of her previous relationship. We knew that Kristen was very serious when she invited her new man over for dinner.
Darcy and I took our roles as surrogate mothers very seriously and spent the evening getting to know this man who was making Kristen happy. She was still struggling with what her future would bring but she was falling in love and trying very hard to live in the moment.
Life moved on and our magical winter had to come to an end. I was feeling like I really needed to move as I had spent a year there and did not think I could afford it much longer. I was very fortunate to find a house sharing situation at reduced rent just before the agency I worked for cut our pay. Kristen stayed in the apartment for another month.
Kristen continued to go to Darcy’s now and then to fix dinner and I drive on over to enjoy whatever delicious meal she serves. It was at one of these meals shortly after Christmas this year that Kristen announced that she was pregnant. It was wonderful news all around. We were ecstatic for her.
A few weeks ago we all met for dinner again and talked about where we had been and what changes had occurred. I was getting ready to move to Concord to be near an exciting new job, Darcy had just put an offer on a condo (she knew she couldn’t spend another winter in an apartment that had a furnace that shot flames out the back whenever it turned o, leaving Dipstick with singed whiskers) and Kristen was glowing from her pregnancy. We laughed as Teddy sat on a stool and hung his legs over the edge in sort of a downward cat yoga pose and we ate asparagus pizza and reminisced.
I know that with all of the changes in our lives that our time together will be less frequent but I don’t think we will ever lose the friendship that grew out of our time on the farm in Nelson. Yesterday, at Kristen’s shower, Darcy and I stood in a circle with Kristen’s friends and family, blessing her and this child. As I stood there I recalled the intensity of emotion that I felt between Kristen and her future partner as they danced on that summer night almost two years ago. A small inner voice told me that it had been the spirit of the child she now carries, urging them forward, asking them to become parents. I know that this child will be born into a life of love because I know that Kristen draws love to her in special ways.
The life quilt of friendship that was sewn together during that time in the farmhouse, through that cold winter, continues. We are each on our different paths but make sure to meet at the crossroads for tea and muffins.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Monday, June 22, 2009
Time and Memory
This whole notion of time speeding up - I know you have heard about it – has me thinking. I feel like I crossed a point a few years ago when life shifted gears and sped up. Now I spend less time waiting for things to happen and events zip by so quickly I barely have time to breathe.
I have a theory about why it is so much easier, as we get older, to remember things that happened forty years ago than it is to remember a shopping list for tomorrow. It is because time moved so much slower then. We had time for the information to get into our brain and be properly stored. With time moving so fast there are days when I feel that I am trying to catch information with a butterfly net and names, dates, events, ideas and shopping items keep slipping through the holes. Nothing sticks. Nothing has time to get firmly embedded into the memory banks. If it does, it has a precarious hold and something else may easily knock it off.
My brain does not seem to be able to discriminate between what is important information to keep and what is meaningless. I can easily recall my phone number from forty years ago but struggle to remember my grandchildren’s birthdates. Sometimes a sequence of numbers will pop into my head for no reason and I will realize that I am remembering my locker combination from high school.
My father used to run through a whole list of names before getting the right one. When he spoke to me he would start with “JoAnne”, then “Barb” and finally “Linda”. The same in reverse would happen to my mother and sister. He eventually just called my sister and me “punkin’” as a means of making sure to get it right the first time.
I hear people everywhere talking about how time is just speeding up. Things are happening faster than we can take in the information. Technology is moving so fast that information learned in the first two years of college can be obsolete by graduation. It feels like just yesterday that I was holding my youngest granddaughter, Lizzie, in my arms and now she is almost four years old, ready to take on the world as Princess Peach with her boyfriend, Mario. I had no idea who these people were until she explained the whole Nintendo game world to me in five minutes, hands flying, with vivid detail. I was playing Candy Land at three years old. How does this all happen?
It is all very disconcerting. Mick Jagger is dancing around on stage in tight pants while in his sixties and I can’t seem to figure out where the nineteen sixties and seventies went. He is obviously stuck back in time while Keith Richards walks around looking like a forty year old corpse. I have stopped watching PBS specials with classic rock musicians because I always wonder who these balding, gray people are lip syncing to my favorite songs.
I may be rambling here. My mind is trying very hard to figure out where everything is happening. That is if time can happen in a place. It is like trying to catch dust motes between your fingers. Just when you think you have one, it disappears and you wonder if you ever had it at all.
I asked Lizzie to slow down. I asked her not to grow up so fast. She is my last grandchild and I am going to miss the cuddling and the Lizzie Mae and Grandma Mutual Admiration Society meetings. When I ask though, she very thoughtfully looks at me and says “But I have to, Grandma. I have to grow up.” Why does it have to be so fast? Why can’t the good things just slow down enough so that I can savor a moment without thinking about the loss coming so quickly? I just hope the Lizzie memories find a good strong place to hold onto in my memory banks so that I can find them easily when she is all grown up.
I have a theory about why it is so much easier, as we get older, to remember things that happened forty years ago than it is to remember a shopping list for tomorrow. It is because time moved so much slower then. We had time for the information to get into our brain and be properly stored. With time moving so fast there are days when I feel that I am trying to catch information with a butterfly net and names, dates, events, ideas and shopping items keep slipping through the holes. Nothing sticks. Nothing has time to get firmly embedded into the memory banks. If it does, it has a precarious hold and something else may easily knock it off.
My brain does not seem to be able to discriminate between what is important information to keep and what is meaningless. I can easily recall my phone number from forty years ago but struggle to remember my grandchildren’s birthdates. Sometimes a sequence of numbers will pop into my head for no reason and I will realize that I am remembering my locker combination from high school.
My father used to run through a whole list of names before getting the right one. When he spoke to me he would start with “JoAnne”, then “Barb” and finally “Linda”. The same in reverse would happen to my mother and sister. He eventually just called my sister and me “punkin’” as a means of making sure to get it right the first time.
I hear people everywhere talking about how time is just speeding up. Things are happening faster than we can take in the information. Technology is moving so fast that information learned in the first two years of college can be obsolete by graduation. It feels like just yesterday that I was holding my youngest granddaughter, Lizzie, in my arms and now she is almost four years old, ready to take on the world as Princess Peach with her boyfriend, Mario. I had no idea who these people were until she explained the whole Nintendo game world to me in five minutes, hands flying, with vivid detail. I was playing Candy Land at three years old. How does this all happen?
It is all very disconcerting. Mick Jagger is dancing around on stage in tight pants while in his sixties and I can’t seem to figure out where the nineteen sixties and seventies went. He is obviously stuck back in time while Keith Richards walks around looking like a forty year old corpse. I have stopped watching PBS specials with classic rock musicians because I always wonder who these balding, gray people are lip syncing to my favorite songs.
I may be rambling here. My mind is trying very hard to figure out where everything is happening. That is if time can happen in a place. It is like trying to catch dust motes between your fingers. Just when you think you have one, it disappears and you wonder if you ever had it at all.
I asked Lizzie to slow down. I asked her not to grow up so fast. She is my last grandchild and I am going to miss the cuddling and the Lizzie Mae and Grandma Mutual Admiration Society meetings. When I ask though, she very thoughtfully looks at me and says “But I have to, Grandma. I have to grow up.” Why does it have to be so fast? Why can’t the good things just slow down enough so that I can savor a moment without thinking about the loss coming so quickly? I just hope the Lizzie memories find a good strong place to hold onto in my memory banks so that I can find them easily when she is all grown up.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Ode to the Forest
The falling leaves Sufi dance in the wind
as the woodpecker drums and the
chickadee chatters a response.
The stream provides the harmony
while the eagle performs his ballet
beneath the curtains of clouds parting to
reveal the backdrop of blue sky.
The scent of musk from
dead leaves in the dark
corners of the forest blend
with the early winter rain
and the cool air filtered
by tree, fern and moss,
filling my lungs with gratitude
and my eyes and ears with joy.
as the woodpecker drums and the
chickadee chatters a response.
The stream provides the harmony
while the eagle performs his ballet
beneath the curtains of clouds parting to
reveal the backdrop of blue sky.
The scent of musk from
dead leaves in the dark
corners of the forest blend
with the early winter rain
and the cool air filtered
by tree, fern and moss,
filling my lungs with gratitude
and my eyes and ears with joy.
Earth Dance - for the Solstice
A warm summer day,
Redwing blackbirds
Flying in and out of the
Tall field grass.
I lie on my back
Staring quietly at the
Pure blue sky,
Puffs of white.
The earth is breathing
Quietly in sync
With the beat of my
Seven year old heart.
Dragonflies zip by
Their stain glassed bodies
Held aloft by
Invisible wings.
I breathe quietly,
Grateful for the solitude,
Feeling the earth
Dancing in the universe.
Redwing blackbirds
Flying in and out of the
Tall field grass.
I lie on my back
Staring quietly at the
Pure blue sky,
Puffs of white.
The earth is breathing
Quietly in sync
With the beat of my
Seven year old heart.
Dragonflies zip by
Their stain glassed bodies
Held aloft by
Invisible wings.
I breathe quietly,
Grateful for the solitude,
Feeling the earth
Dancing in the universe.
First post - Sunday Musings
Ahh. A blog. That would certainly throw me into the 21st century. My fear is that no one will find my blatherings interesting. And then, who am I to judge what others find interesting? I will just go on and write what is on my mind and let people decide on their own if my musings interest them.
Since I have few things that appear to always be on my mind I will probably be writing about my spiritual journey, aging, and how life just seems to be speeding up to the point that I can't keep up. Don't worry if you read this and I sound morose. The next time you come back I may be expressing sheer joy at the world and all that it has given me.
However, on wet and dreary days such as this I am mostly introspective. My thoughts are on where I am and where I have come from.
I am currently living in New Hampshire. It has been a long journey to get to this beautiful place. I have been in the Concord area for about a week and my concerns about moving closer to the city after living in the country for a few years have been completely removed. Concord is a little big town and I am only a few blocks from a goat farm, a mile from a wooded river, and I have the choice between a city drive or a country drive to get to most places. I choose the country drive even if it takes a little longer.
I am always hoping to see a moose. Moose seem to know when I am out and about and for that reason I have only seen two and both have been dead. I am armed only with a camera and when I see that first "live" moose I will post his or her picture for everyone to see and celebrate. Sometimes I am convinced that moose are completely mythical creatures, like unicorns and fairy folk. However, there have been times that I believed in unicorns and fairy folk so I suppose that a moose may grace me with his presence at some time.
This morning I drove to the UU church over the back roads. Everything is so vividly green from all of the recent rains that it took my breath away. I drove over hills and saw lush orchards and mountains. The other day I saw a mother turkey with her brood of babies near the side of the road. There must have been twenty of them and I wish I had stopped to get a picture.
It is the summer solstice. The day will be long and it is hard to imagine that it is supposed to be summer. The weather has been more Spring-like with abundant rain and dreary days. New Englanders love to garden and the flowers against the green of the landscape are a welcome sight on these cloudy days.
My life seems to be less about outer adventures these days. I was going to blame it on my body but I only really have myself to blame. Years of indulgence have taken their toll and I am working on trying to find that middle way. I do not like the effects of aging and it makes it worse that my habits have sped up the process. My knees creak and my hands fall asleep. I am working on eating healthier and seem to have been able to cut back on the emotional eating. I still have cravings for sweets but am less likely to binge on chocolate and allow myself a taste now and then.
I hate having an aging body when my brain still seems to function at the level of a twenty-five year old. Yes, there is some wisdom of age but I still have moments when I can behave with the immaturity of someone much younger. I was sitting in traffic on the main street of one of the larger NH cities the other day. The oncoming lane was empty of traffic and I had just passed the left turn I needed to make. I was five minutes late for a meeting and in my frustration I was seriously considering making an illegal U-turn right in the middle of the street. At just that moment, a city police car pulled up beside me. I took it as a sign to stay put, but the real reason I didn't do it was that I realized that I did not have the foolishness of youth as an excuse for bad behavior. How does a 53 year old graying grandmother explain to a police officer (probably half her age) why she did such an immature thing?
I seem to be a caricature of the middle aged divorced woman living alone in her apartment with a cat. Boo is beautiful and a wonderful roommate. However, to keep from becoming the crazy cat lady of the building, I am keeping it to just her and I, no matter how many people insist that I need another one. Boo seems to like being an only cat and we get along just fine.
Maybe I am thinking a lot about solstice this year because I realized a few years ago that I have passed the solstice of my life. I have fewer years ahead of me than behind me. I am not afraid of death, but after losing both parents to cancer I find I have become a little more of a hypochondriac. My mother died at the age of 69. That is only sixteen years away for me. If I look back to sixteen years ago I know that I have done a lot in just sixteen years, but at the speed at which life seems to pass me by these days I don't know if I really have a lot of time. I don't really fret about waiting for things to happen anymore because I realize that time moves so quickly that there is no reason to become impatient.
At church this morning, in the row behind me, were a group of women who had all come together from a retirement community. They were all in their nineties. I can't imagine living that long. They were absolutely lovely and appeared to be living full lives, but I just don't see it for me. I have a friend who does everything she can maintain her body, insisting that our bodies are not meant to age and die. When I hear that I almost cringe. Maybe it is just laziness on my part. I have found living to be very difficult at times (mostly due to my own choices) and I really don't need to drag this out much longer than necessary. I work very hard to participate on a daily basis, I have hopes and dreams for the future, plans for travel and watching my grandchildren grow, but there are things I don't want to face. I don't want to see any more friends die. I don't want to watch my grandchildren struggle. I don't want to lose my own mental capacities. I want to have my thought processes thoroughly intact until the moment I die.
It is this struggle of living that brought me to Buddhism. I spent some time in New Thought churches and found the affirmations to be self defeating at times. It is more important for me to find a way to live with the daily struggles of life without attachment to outcomes than it is for me to affirm a dream for the future. The more attached I am to outcomes the more I suffer. Being mindfully in the moment provides more comfort and satisfaction.
Over the past couple of years I worked for a mental health agency that appeared to be imploding for various reasons. I had five supervisors in two years and they each had a different management philosophy. The job market was tight and I was not sure what I wanted to do. I didn't want to go to another mental health agency since I knew that mine was not unique in its struggles.
When things appeared to be at their worse I found a book by Phillip Moffitt, Dancing with Life. It is about the Four Noble Truths of Buddhism and by reading this book thoroughly, and more than once, I was able to find what I needed to get through the struggles. I did not have the strength to affirm any sort of possibilities for the future, but I was able to use the teachings of the Buddha to understand that the best way to get through each day was to not attach myself to the outcomes, but to keep my emotional flame low and not allow it to flame up in anger, frustration, guilt, depression and fear. I had to just go with the flow of life and understand that as things come to a downturn they will also eventually improve. I needed to paddle my way through the rapids and stay with the canoe, staying in the moment and not looking too far ahead.
I made it through. It was not easy and, as I said before, there was some toll on my health. And there was a lot of good. I came out of it with good friends and the knowing that I am strong. I am now working in a job that suits my experience and talents at a program that appears healthy and strong. I did not go looking for it. It came to me at the point when I needed it most and I feel it was my reward from the universe for having made it through the past two years. The lesson needed to be learned in that environment. I couldn't have learned it otherwise.
I don't believe in a god that is interested in the day to day workings of my life. I don't have a personal relationship with a higher power. I find my strength in the support of others and in understanding that I have been able to make it through quite a bit in my life. I do believe in a greater force in the Universe that is a flow of love. I try to spend as much time in that flow as possible without expectations. It requires mindfulness on my part and a practice that includes the 12 Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous and Buddhism with a touch of earth based religions. I am a constantly evolving human being thankful for periods of rest.
Since I have few things that appear to always be on my mind I will probably be writing about my spiritual journey, aging, and how life just seems to be speeding up to the point that I can't keep up. Don't worry if you read this and I sound morose. The next time you come back I may be expressing sheer joy at the world and all that it has given me.
However, on wet and dreary days such as this I am mostly introspective. My thoughts are on where I am and where I have come from.
I am currently living in New Hampshire. It has been a long journey to get to this beautiful place. I have been in the Concord area for about a week and my concerns about moving closer to the city after living in the country for a few years have been completely removed. Concord is a little big town and I am only a few blocks from a goat farm, a mile from a wooded river, and I have the choice between a city drive or a country drive to get to most places. I choose the country drive even if it takes a little longer.
I am always hoping to see a moose. Moose seem to know when I am out and about and for that reason I have only seen two and both have been dead. I am armed only with a camera and when I see that first "live" moose I will post his or her picture for everyone to see and celebrate. Sometimes I am convinced that moose are completely mythical creatures, like unicorns and fairy folk. However, there have been times that I believed in unicorns and fairy folk so I suppose that a moose may grace me with his presence at some time.
This morning I drove to the UU church over the back roads. Everything is so vividly green from all of the recent rains that it took my breath away. I drove over hills and saw lush orchards and mountains. The other day I saw a mother turkey with her brood of babies near the side of the road. There must have been twenty of them and I wish I had stopped to get a picture.
It is the summer solstice. The day will be long and it is hard to imagine that it is supposed to be summer. The weather has been more Spring-like with abundant rain and dreary days. New Englanders love to garden and the flowers against the green of the landscape are a welcome sight on these cloudy days.
My life seems to be less about outer adventures these days. I was going to blame it on my body but I only really have myself to blame. Years of indulgence have taken their toll and I am working on trying to find that middle way. I do not like the effects of aging and it makes it worse that my habits have sped up the process. My knees creak and my hands fall asleep. I am working on eating healthier and seem to have been able to cut back on the emotional eating. I still have cravings for sweets but am less likely to binge on chocolate and allow myself a taste now and then.
I hate having an aging body when my brain still seems to function at the level of a twenty-five year old. Yes, there is some wisdom of age but I still have moments when I can behave with the immaturity of someone much younger. I was sitting in traffic on the main street of one of the larger NH cities the other day. The oncoming lane was empty of traffic and I had just passed the left turn I needed to make. I was five minutes late for a meeting and in my frustration I was seriously considering making an illegal U-turn right in the middle of the street. At just that moment, a city police car pulled up beside me. I took it as a sign to stay put, but the real reason I didn't do it was that I realized that I did not have the foolishness of youth as an excuse for bad behavior. How does a 53 year old graying grandmother explain to a police officer (probably half her age) why she did such an immature thing?
I seem to be a caricature of the middle aged divorced woman living alone in her apartment with a cat. Boo is beautiful and a wonderful roommate. However, to keep from becoming the crazy cat lady of the building, I am keeping it to just her and I, no matter how many people insist that I need another one. Boo seems to like being an only cat and we get along just fine.
Maybe I am thinking a lot about solstice this year because I realized a few years ago that I have passed the solstice of my life. I have fewer years ahead of me than behind me. I am not afraid of death, but after losing both parents to cancer I find I have become a little more of a hypochondriac. My mother died at the age of 69. That is only sixteen years away for me. If I look back to sixteen years ago I know that I have done a lot in just sixteen years, but at the speed at which life seems to pass me by these days I don't know if I really have a lot of time. I don't really fret about waiting for things to happen anymore because I realize that time moves so quickly that there is no reason to become impatient.
At church this morning, in the row behind me, were a group of women who had all come together from a retirement community. They were all in their nineties. I can't imagine living that long. They were absolutely lovely and appeared to be living full lives, but I just don't see it for me. I have a friend who does everything she can maintain her body, insisting that our bodies are not meant to age and die. When I hear that I almost cringe. Maybe it is just laziness on my part. I have found living to be very difficult at times (mostly due to my own choices) and I really don't need to drag this out much longer than necessary. I work very hard to participate on a daily basis, I have hopes and dreams for the future, plans for travel and watching my grandchildren grow, but there are things I don't want to face. I don't want to see any more friends die. I don't want to watch my grandchildren struggle. I don't want to lose my own mental capacities. I want to have my thought processes thoroughly intact until the moment I die.
It is this struggle of living that brought me to Buddhism. I spent some time in New Thought churches and found the affirmations to be self defeating at times. It is more important for me to find a way to live with the daily struggles of life without attachment to outcomes than it is for me to affirm a dream for the future. The more attached I am to outcomes the more I suffer. Being mindfully in the moment provides more comfort and satisfaction.
Over the past couple of years I worked for a mental health agency that appeared to be imploding for various reasons. I had five supervisors in two years and they each had a different management philosophy. The job market was tight and I was not sure what I wanted to do. I didn't want to go to another mental health agency since I knew that mine was not unique in its struggles.
When things appeared to be at their worse I found a book by Phillip Moffitt, Dancing with Life. It is about the Four Noble Truths of Buddhism and by reading this book thoroughly, and more than once, I was able to find what I needed to get through the struggles. I did not have the strength to affirm any sort of possibilities for the future, but I was able to use the teachings of the Buddha to understand that the best way to get through each day was to not attach myself to the outcomes, but to keep my emotional flame low and not allow it to flame up in anger, frustration, guilt, depression and fear. I had to just go with the flow of life and understand that as things come to a downturn they will also eventually improve. I needed to paddle my way through the rapids and stay with the canoe, staying in the moment and not looking too far ahead.
I made it through. It was not easy and, as I said before, there was some toll on my health. And there was a lot of good. I came out of it with good friends and the knowing that I am strong. I am now working in a job that suits my experience and talents at a program that appears healthy and strong. I did not go looking for it. It came to me at the point when I needed it most and I feel it was my reward from the universe for having made it through the past two years. The lesson needed to be learned in that environment. I couldn't have learned it otherwise.
I don't believe in a god that is interested in the day to day workings of my life. I don't have a personal relationship with a higher power. I find my strength in the support of others and in understanding that I have been able to make it through quite a bit in my life. I do believe in a greater force in the Universe that is a flow of love. I try to spend as much time in that flow as possible without expectations. It requires mindfulness on my part and a practice that includes the 12 Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous and Buddhism with a touch of earth based religions. I am a constantly evolving human being thankful for periods of rest.
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