Thursday, January 15, 2015

uneasy comfort

This is where I long to be ... this is where I all journeys begin and end ... this is where my deepest work lies ... this is what I strangely resist ...



home

As much as I give it lip-service, it is hard for me to wind down. I hop from space to space, task to task. Without limitations or real time constraints  (other than the obligations of Cowgirl & Moose Dog) I seek something solid to lean into. Usually that means tossing myself into a commitment which then provides me a direction and focus.  Like George Costanza, I recognize I need to do the exact opposite of what compels me ... not overriding intuition, but bypassing reflexive habit to allow myself time to perceive the quiet guidance.




Staying open ... waiting for the miracle to arrive ...  this is challenging when everything in me screams to get up, get a plan together, and get going. This seems to be the online fortune du jour "don't leave before the miracle happens" and my unofficial research (thank you, Google Now) tells me this saying comes from AA. Which seems right as chronic busyness is  certainly a modern addiction and one I am susceptible to caving into. 

So home is where I meet myself. Home is where I can be myself and it is where I face my greatest discomforts with self. When I've peeled away all the distracting babbles, the pressures to live up to some new cultural ideal - the attentive mother, empowered wild woman, transforming light-bearer, inspired & uplifting entrepreneur - I behold what I truly want to be.

Home-maker.  In the fullest sense of the word.  Home as described here. Home as a center of balance within, approached through quiet, solitude, inner conversations, deep listening. I am inspired by this home-lover.  I am preparing to tackle worn-out beliefs about who it is I want and believe myself to be ... revising my story if you will.  Sitting back and digesting this juicy bone:

What would happen if the stories we have been telling only exist because we tell them? (Nissa of Soul Craft, The Stories of Now starts February 1)

I'm beginning by the way I respond to the question: Employer?  I take a breath, make sure I am sitting up straight, gaze directly at the person asking and respond "I work on home; I'm self employed."  Every night, when the Husband comes home and inquires What did you do today? I am going to notice my desire to squirm, to snap, to launch into how many loads of his laundry I did for him (housework is a favor ... one granted out of love ... but a still a favor and not a de facto responsibility) and  instead I will truthfully answer him "I was busy loving life."  It's not a job, but it is a responsibility, a privilege. 




There is so much beauty, there is so much to cherish and enjoy.  Making things difficult, choosing the hard path, that's another threadbare story I'm ready to pitch out. Struggle does not automatically make me more worthy, the prize more valuable.  It's like wearing comfortable shoes:  You cover the same distance but in ease and enjoyment of the total experience and not dwelling on each painful step. 

There's a story that goes like this: An old woman was out on a street searching for a lost needle.  People passing by stopped and offered to help her look for it.  As they joined in on the search, they quickly realized the road was very wide and a needle very small and difficult to find.  Hoping to narrow down the search they asked the old woman "Grandmother, where did you lose it?"  She replied "Inside my house." The people were perplexed. "Why are you looking out here?" She explained to them that there was more light outside to see by. That inside is dark.  She smiled at their confusion. "Don't you do the same?  Why are you searching for bliss in the outside world? Have you lost it there?" 



What I seek is within me.  It's not about answers to questions, it's not about defining my purpose, it's about coming home. Being home. It's about greeting each day as another opportunity to deepen my connection to the love affair that is life ... my life, as it is.  My new mantra it seems is one word: This.

This day ... this meal ... this conversation ... this moment ... this wound ... this healing ... this incredible gift of loving and being loved.



I know, it sounds lovely ... it sounds effortless.  But ... but what? Sitting in the discomfort of being comfortable, contented, happy with the simple things. It's a new character trait I'm trying on. Growing into. It will take time.  Well, that's about all I've got: time and opportunity to keep practicing.

10 comments:

  1. oh. my.

    if you could see me grinning and getting teary-eyed and virtual high-fiving you [along with a fist-bump and possibly a cavort around the floor].

    i am absolutely, precisely and thoroughly in a similar space -- This...oh my YES! suddenly having full-time work again has left me with much less *free* time...but it's forced me to closely examine how i want to spend that time. home. the making of home, the attention to what's right in front of me....

    like now -- i want to write more, but i'm saying "yes" to making pancakes for star-boy and promising to finish a letter that's been sitting half-written for over a week. ;) of course, that'll be right after i eat a bowl of the leek-and-potato soup that i made earlier....

    simplifying time and energy expenditure.

    yep.

    hardcore.

    xoxo

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    1. I am so very chuff I lured you out of exile and into this land of flashing lights and loud noises ;) And as we ARE twins, I knew you would understand all of this. Ah, the beauty of pancakes, the gift of each moment with all of the wonders AND frustrations. You never fail to comfort and inspire me. And the letters, oh, I treasure them precisely because they emerge organically from the humus of your days. Yes to cavorting ... since I can't cavort with you in person (yet!) let this stand as my body bumping response to your inspired dance. xo

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  2. I'm going to sound like an old fart maybe, or...presumptious, but how old are you? I'm finding my late 50's [I'm close to 57] have allowed deeper grounding. Of course, I built a life I love, and it didn't come over nite. But my rambling days are done inside my barnyard, or on a hill, or at a painting. I think, FOR ME, aging has allowed more focus on one thing at a time [um, not always] and less chatter about other things, or the 'shoulds'. Bliss is whatever I'm doing, thinking or feeling at the time, not something I feel a need to seek. {Thanks for the shout out too!}

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    1. You nailed me! Yup, I'm a young pup of 52 ... and grateful for the years of running around because now I recognize I am exactly.where.i.want.to.be. For today. Tomorrow? I will be where I am that day ... again, in the place that has been prepared for me. And I, it. I love it - "Bliss is whatever I'm doing." Yes to that very zen approach! I am discovering the wisdom lies there. Or is it here? ;)

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  3. So I've written and erased, written and erased, a # of times now. I'm thrilled by this post and yet can't get my words together. What I can clearly say is: thank you so much for writing this, Lisa - and: wow, what food for thought and discussion, practice and reflection!

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    1. We are kindred Karen ... I know, I know ;) No words ... just smiling (Cheshire Cat style) and nodding, right? xo

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  4. Mel sent me over here with her lovely words about you. your writing is stunning, tranquil and inspirational. thank you for reminding me this morning to be still and be H.O.M.E. we are a homeschooling family and often a lot happens here most of the time. Be in the thick of it, still and centred, yes. I am reminded of Alanis Morisette's video for 'Thank You' when I read your words, mmmm, wonderful ;-)

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    1. Oh Lulu - how lovely to connect with you here AND over on the divine Ms. M's blog! I just signed up for your letters and am giddy with anticipation as I am a moon worshiper AND gemini rising which must make us cousins? Your work sounds inspired and I IN. xo

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  5. beautiful. i'm in a similar place, of slowing down and enjoying the process of making a life. i am a maker of Home as well, but that is not my calling. however, my calling has like you ended up with flitting from task to task, "bypassing reflexive habit" - perfectly expressed. when i allow ideas to take the driving seat i become overwhelmed and when that happens i flit and do a lot and achieve very little. including inner peace.

    this - whatever it may be to each person...

    peace

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    1. Love that wisdom - "when I allow ideas to take the driving seat I become overwhelmed ..." Tucking that away in my pocket for future reference & reminder! xo

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