life

I Will Choose

~ crazybuddhaful ~ Leave a comment

It’s been a really long time since I’ve posted. All the discipline I was cultivating started wilting from lack of nurturing and essentially came to decay. The pressures of all the different stresses in my life were too much, and instead of caring for myself in positive ways, I turned to negative releases. About five months ago, my world was turned upside down. I don’t want to go into details for many reasons, but it involves taking on the care of a pre-adolescent child. As one can imagine, this fundamentally changed the course of my entire life as I knew it, but more importantly, as I wanted it. Raising children, no doubt, can be a beautiful thing…if that’s what you want. But when something like this is thrust upon you with no choice in the matter (and zero time to prepare), well, I don’t think anyone can truly understand the gravity of it without experiencing it. Actually, I misspoke – I do have some choice in the matter. I can leave, but that would also involve leaving a relationship of nearly a decade. That’s longer than most marriages. But, as we all know, the sheer number of years is not reason enough to stay in a relationship. And I’m a firm believer in making truly conscious decisions about the path your life will take. I don’t want to be swept away and then carried indefinitely by the tides of chance. But that’s kind of what I’ve been doing…

The part of my life that I’ve actually been the most unhappy about is my work. It’s something I’ve been complaining about for awhile now. The single most exasperating part of my life. In the interest of making conscious decisions, I gave up my career as an attorney (so cliche, I know) to pursue something more creative. That “creative” pursuit was a career in fashion. I like it well enough and would take it over law any day, but it isn’t in line with my innards. That thing inside of me that I feel I need to get outside to the world. My calling…my purpose…my dharma. There’s this saying I heard once: My job isn’t who I am, it’s what I do. I know many people who feel this way, who can make this distinction. I, myself, have tried very hard to do the same. But, I can’t. It’s just not how it works for me.

We spend the majority of our lives working. There’s 168 hours in a week. Take away about 50 hours for sleep, and that leaves us with 118. Conservatively (and I’m being super conservative here), it takes us about an hour to get ready and another hour to commute to and from work – another 10 hours. That leaves us with 108. Assuming we only work 40 hours a week, which again, is a conservative measure in this ass backwards society of America, that means that 37% of our lives are spent working. That’s almost half of our waking lives (and this doesn’t account for the fact that we’re usually dead tired by the time we get off, so forget about spending that time productively).

How can I separate 40% from who I am, from what I’m contributing to the world? And if all that time is spent doing something I don’t really care about under people I don’t really respect, then can I truly say that I’m even in control of my life? I know, I know, everyone has the same number of hours. It’s not that I don’t actually have enough time, I’m just not making certain things a priority. And of course, there’s the ultimate: I can get another job. But, we all know that isn’t as easy as it sounds. And I’m not here to make excuses. That’s what I’ve been doing for the last half of this year. I’m done with that. I want to fuckin’ do something about it.

Now, I go through this phase every so often. Pumped up with motivation, sick of being tossed around by that tide of chance, ready to make moves and make shit happen. Then I lose momentum and go back to spending my extra time wallowing with friends over alcohol. But, hey, so what? One defeat (or even hundreds) doesn’t mean the game’s over. And even if I’m defeated over and over again, that’s still better than nothing, right? So how do I do this? How do I equip myself with enough tools and ammunition to give myself the best odds for success? Well, I’ve been gathering just such tools for a while now. Through podcasts, reading, meditating, conversing with people whose opinions I respect. Now it’s time to put it all down and make a plan.

Every Day

~ crazybuddhaful ~ Leave a comment

Everyday, do ONE thing that makes you a better person. No, fuck that. Do one thing that gets you closer to the person you want to be. So, who do I want to be?

I want to a writer.
I want to be a scholar.
I want to be kind through and through.
I want to be patient.
I want to be an artist.
I want to be a creator.

I think we put too much pressure on ourselves, and we ignore all the tiny things that we do that contribute to making us who we are. If I read a book, I’m taking in writing that I appreciate. If I text a friend something nice, I’m becoming more loving. If I pluck a succulent leaf to propagate, I’m creating life. If I don’t get mad while stuck in traffic, if I don’t get frustrated with how annoying work is, I’m becoming more patient. Why do I think these little things don’t matter? Why do I feel like I have to do such grand things to be working towards my purpose? It’s not that onerous. It’s simple. It’s easy. It’s being done, day by day, moment by moment. I just have to acknowledge it.

Hokusai Says

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One of my favorite people sent this to me the other day, knowing I was having a hard time. A poem by Roger Keyes (who I can’t seem to find out much about). Hokusai was a great Japanese artist and printmaker.

Katsushika_Hokusai

Hokusai says look carefully.
He says pay attention, notice.
He says keep looking, stay curious.
He says there is no end to seeing.

He says look forward to getting old.
He says keep changing,
you just get more who you really are.
He says get stuck, accept it, repeat yourself
as long as it is interesting.

He says keep doing what you love.
He says keep praying.
He says every one of us is a child,

every one of us is ancient,
every one of us has a body.
He says every one of us is frightened.
He says every one of us has to find a way to live with fear.

He says everything is alive —
shells, buildings, people, fish, mountains, trees.
Wood is alive.
Water is alive.
Everything has its own life.
Everything lives inside us.
He says live with the world inside you.

He says it doesn’t matter if you draw, or write books.
It doesn’t matter if you saw wood, or catch fish.
It doesn’t matter if you sit at home
and stare at the ants on your verandah or the shadows of the trees
and grasses in your garden.

It matters that you care.
It matters that you feel.
It matters that you notice.
It matters that life lives through you.

Contentment is life living through you.
Joy is life living through you.
Satisfaction and strength is life living through you.
Peace is life living through you.

He says don’t be afraid.
Don’t be afraid.
Look, feel, let life take you by the hand.
Let life live through you.

by Roger Keyes

Unending Storm

~ crazybuddhaful ~ 1 Comment

It seems the storm just continues to grow and get worse. I really thought that I was at that point where, you know, “Well, it can’t get any worse. It has to get better from here.” Turns out, things can always get worse.

Last night, I spiraled, broke down and just wept. Why does the universe insist on piling it on? When can I catch a break? And of course, I spent quite a bit of time attaching stories of self blame to the latest event (one of my employees is leaving because she got a job that could offer her more money). Then, just before I went to bed, I decided to stop.

I don’t have to attach all this unnecessary, and in all likelihood untrue, meaning to what happened. What does this really mean? Someone quit. As a manager, this is an inconvenience. I’m going to have to find someone new and train them. Is my life really that bad?

I have an incredible father – yes he’s sick, but he’s still fuckin alive and I had the privilege of having him as my dad, uninterrupted until now…and still going, by the way.

I have an amazing partner that is showing up in all the ways I’ve ever wanted. How many people dream and yearn for this. I have it.

I have a great job that offers me exactly what I need right now. Yes, it’s difficult as fuck right now, soon to get even more challenging, but it’s just work. It is the means by which I sustain myself. Outside of that, it can only affect me as much as I allow it to.

This morning, the universe decided to send me a little help. A little offering of practical advice via a newsletter I’m subscribed to: What To Do When You Don’t Know What To Do.

Instead of worrying, over thinking, over analyzing, contemplating worst case scenarios, it offered me 3 steps to follow instead:

  1. Forget about the ultimate outcome.
    • We don’t have much control over it anyway, and most likely many things will continue to shift and change.
  2. Focus on the next right action.
    • What can I do to that will move whatever issue it is I’m having along in the right direction? One step at a time. Baby steps.
  3. Do something now.
    • Do that thing. Do something. But don’t spend time trying to gain clarity over the whole matter, analyzing and overanalyzing what went wrong because the answer is unlikely to come and unlikely to even be helpful.

New Morning Routine

~ crazybuddhaful ~ 3 Comments

The other morning I was laying in bed thinking to myself that I really want to have a set morning routine. I recently decided that the routine I was trying to establish wasn’t working, so instead of trying harder, I wanted to try better. In all honesty, what I was trying didn’t have the set structure of a regular routine, and I think that was a big part of why it fell apart. I had specific things I wanted to do everyday, but I just couldn’t place them into a schedule I could follow. So I’m lying in bed thinking about this new routine when I go through my email to discover that the universe, via one of my dearest friends, has sent me a message:

A Navy SEAL’s Morning Routine To Stay Focused & Feel Great All Day – mindbodygreen.com

I’ve made a few tweaks and am now on Day 2 of my new morning routine:
1. Find a calm space.
I’ve decided to start my mornings outside. I live in the hills and have a truly wonderful outdoor space, but for some inexplicable reason, I barely spend any time out there. I’ve come to view this place as my version of Thoreau’s Walden, and I’m hoping that this practice will lead to me spending more time out there.
2. Drink a glass of water.
3. Write three things I’m grateful for with my left hand.
I was recently inspired by another article (https://www.brainpickings.org/2016/06/07/the-magic-of-the-book-hermann-hesse-my-belief/) to start practicing writing with my left hand (I’m right handed). I attempted this a few years ago, but like most things soon forgot about it. It almost feels like a meditation practice because I have to be truly focused on what I’m doing and nothing else.
4. Mindfully stretch.
5. Breathing meditation for a minimum of five minutes.
Breathe in for 3, hold for 3, breathe out for 3, hold for 3. Repeat.
I haven’t made up my mind on whether I want to make a list or plan for the day. I’ve found that whenever I make lists of things I want to do, I usually don’t get through most of the items and then just feel really shitty about myself. I do like the idea of visualization though. Maybe I’ll try visualizing one thing I want to do each day.

Dead Battery

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I’m driving up to Big Sur this weekend to visit my friend at Esalen. In preparation, I went to get my car checked yesterday to make sure everything was in good condition. Last night when I got home, I went through the glove compartment to make sure my registration and insurance was in there. I turned on the little light in the middle and reminded myself, “You better fuckin’ remember to turn this thing off.” I have a tendency to forget to do that. Also, last week, I left my lights on while at a Dodgers game, and when I tried to start the car to leave, my battery was dead. So in light of this recent occurrence, it was especially important that I not forgot. Also, since the distress from that experience is still pretty fresh, I figured there’s no way I would forgot.

Skip to this morning. We have a one car garage and P’s car was blocking mine, so I moved it out of the way and got into my car. Click, click, click, click, click. What the?! Yes, you guessed it. Immediately:

Oh…my…god…
You forgot to turn off the fuckin’ light!
You’re such a fuckin’ idiot.
What the hell is wrong with you?!
Is this battery done now? I’m going to have to buy a new fuckin’ battery. There goes another couple hundred down the drain.

I want to cry. I cried. I hate myself. I hate my life. I’m supposed to be at my parent’s house right now to take care of my Dad while my mom takes care of an errand. I feel like this is a sick joke. One fucked up situation stacked on top of another, and it won’t stop. A Jenga master has control of my life and they’re just racking it up.

A shit ton of mindful breaths and a call to AAA later…I’m here. It’s okay. It happened. I’m not an idiot. Yes, I did a very stupid, careless thing, but that does not in and of itself make me some incompetent worthless creature. AAA is coming. Shit happens, but that does not mean that I am shit. I’m not shit. I’m human. I still want to cry and I probably will, but there is a tiny part of me inside that knows it’s okay. I need to be open to that part and let it do its thing instead of drowning it out with all the pernicious, negative thoughts that want to rule this world inside of my head.

May I be at ease.
May I know that I am worthy.
May I feel that I am good enough.

Love + Despair

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A few days ago, I fell into a hole of despair. The day started off fine. I was supposed to go to a friend’s house for a little get together. But, somehow a little argument with my significant other regarding a few circumstances that complicated the issue of when to leave led to a full on breakdown. I no longer had any desire to go. The thought of being around people and having to make conversation made me cringe.

A little context…my dad has cancer. It’s a second time offender. It fuckin’ sucks. But, I’ve been dealing with it pretty well. This is life. It happens. I know. And fortunately, because I’ve been consistently working on living a more mindful life, I haven’t fallen back to my usual poor habits of dealing with things of this magnitude. No binge drinking, instigating fights with my significant other, playing the victim card as carte blanche to act like a complete asshole. So overall, I am really proud of myself for this progress. But, it still fuckin hurts and it still fuckin sucks. Hence, the mental breakdowns.

It can hit me out of nowhere. Set off by the most innocuous events. Or sometimes, by nothing at all. The night before I snapped, I was in the greatest mood. Even the morning of, I was excited about spending the weekend reading, writing and delving into some new art projects. I went over to my dad’s and made him some soup he was craving. He finished the whole bowl, which was amazing because his tongue’s burnt from radiation and he hasn’t been able to eat much due to the pain. Then the phone call…the argument…and it was all over. I just felt the sting of sadness poking me at first. Then it progressed to a numbing of the whole self. When I got home, I dug my feet (or body, rather) into my bed and just lay there staring vacantly out the window.

I couldn’t snap out of it. I no longer wanted to do anything. At first, it wasn’t that bad. It was still daylight and I just watched some TV. But as the night approached, I started feeling anxious and claustrophobic. I didn’t know what the fuck I would do for the rest of the night. I didn’t want to spend the night watching TV. I already inadvertently took a nap, so I wasn’t tired anymore. I started reading. I’m currently reading The Fountainhead and I just started the part on Gail Wynand. As I was reading about this orphaned boy who was eating trash and sleeping on the streets with his laser like focus on accomplishing what he now knew he wanted out of life, I felt subconscious parts of my mind that held information from all the other things I’d been reading or listening to start to activate. Things like discipline, presence, vulnerability, and deliberate practice. Somehow the haze started lifting and I made it over to my paper and pencils.

I definitely felt better the next day and even went for a run. I was ready to take on the day. Then another innocuous exchange of words and BAM, I was back in the hole. It really hurts down there. The purpose of things starts to disintegrate and I don’t want to use any of the tools I’ve gathered for dealing with these kind of situations. I just want to lay under the blanket, curl up into the smallest form of myself, shut my eyes and try to cry the pain away. Am I being over dramatic? Is there something wrong with me? Am I crazy? Or do I just feel too much?

I know this suffering is pointing me towards something…and I’m pretty sure it has to do with the situation with my dad. But, I don’t want to. I’m not ready. I can deal with it from an abstract, philosophical kind of way. But on the emotional level, where I’m a child facing the possibility of losing a parent… I think I’ve tried to disconnect, or at least distance, myself from the emotions. There are so many things I want to say and know. In the past, I could say and ask him anything. But, now… I can see his vulnerability and it really unnerves me.

Death. I know it’s a part of life. And I know that experiencing the death of a loved one is just as vital a part of the human experience as birth is. Or love. It’s probably the key to understanding what Camus meant when he said, “There is no love of life without despair of life.” But, I don’t like it. And I don’t want it around me…not this close. But, here it is. I guess this is what my suffering was trying to point me towards. This definitely wasn’t where I was going when I started writing this, but here I am. OK…I get it. It’s time for me to do the work. I have to accept you as a part of life.

I do.

 

I will.

Why Suffering is a Good Thing

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afterlight

Life is suffering. It’s the first of Buddha’s four Noble Truths. Suffering is the inevitable accompaniment of physical life.

I used to tear myself up about this. My internal conflict. My tortured soul. When I was younger, I drank myself silly over it. I couldn’t understand why/how other people were not as affected as me. How they could just go about their very similarly situated lives dealing with it so much better than I could. My rationalization was that they just didn’t think about things as deeply as I did. But, I couldn’t decide whether that was better or worse. They say ignorance is bliss and those of us who think and feel ourselves crazy, know that if not for all these thoughts in our heads, we could be pretty happy. But, what kind of happiness would it be? Would it be as fulfilling? It could very well be, given that you’d be ignorant of any other kinds. Ultimately, I suppose it’s all relative and I think it’s safe to say, comparison doesn’t ever really lead to feeling better…at least not when it comes to the nuances of the human condition.

So, this is something I’ve been struggling with for a long time…as long as I can remember discerningly thinking about the world and our place in it. Suffering. Misery. Pain. I feel these things acutely. So acutely, and very often for no explicable reason. I get over emotional and (unadmittedly) over dramatic. Words in a book can jump off the page, shake up my heart and incite tears to stream down my face. Watching the lives, real or imagined (like the specials on Pacquiao or Mayweather before their big fight, or episodes of Empire) of people develop and unravel can also rattle me to my core. I feel their pain (even when it’s fiction!) as my pain. I used to think there was something wrong with me…that I was just crazy. And I really resented my emotions. I saw them as a flaw, a kink in my personality that I needed to fix…or rather drown with alcohol…which ironically, just made me even more emotional the next few days as the chemicals in my brain would readjust to the reality of being sober.

Then a friend said something to me that started to shift the way I viewed my emotions and suffering. I was going through one of my usual conniptions, reeling and wondering what the fuck was wrong with me. I had a pretty glorious childhood: no traumatic incidents, I was sufficiently provided for and there was no deficit of love or support. If anything, they overpraised me (which can cause it’s own slew of problems, I know…sometimes, it can even be worse, but that’s a whole other topic). So, I couldn’t understand why the fuck I felt so tortured all the time. And she said to me, something along the lines of: Maybe your emotions and the way you feel is a gift that allows you to empathize with things even though you haven’t been through it yourself. She probably doesn’t know it, (though I’ve told her, she probably doesn’t realize the impact that simple statement had on me) but she really opened up a new paradigm for me.

Pain…suffering…misery…I don’t have to look at these things as simply negative experiences meant to be avoided at all costs anymore. Not only did I realize that these feelings come with the capacity to empathize and hold compassion for others, but it also opened me up to other ways of thinking about it as well. I’ve started to view my suffering and excessive emotions as signs pointing me towards things that are really important to me. I think in the same way that physical pain lets us know that something in our body is malfunctioning, emotional pain is trying to bring our attention to things we need to work on and heal in our lives. That something is bubbling under the surface and needs to get out…and the more magnified that pain is, the more likely we are to do something about it. Because that’s kind of how we’re built as humans, right? None of us are going to run to the dentist when our tooth just hurts a little bit.

Life = Yoga

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I’m becoming more and more convinced that life is just a huge studio for yoga practice. Today is a new opportunity to practice all the things I’ve learned. I’ve had a great long weekend to myself, but, now I must go back into the world of stimuli…where people and situations exist like minefields for reactions. I will try to seize every opportunity to act on my new resolutions: dropping the old habits of automatic negative reactivity and replacing them with new habits of acceptance and compassion. Let’s see how this goes…

Stop Fighting So Hard

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Maybe my problem is always trying to figure things out. I remember I had a hell of a time with math once I got to Calculus. I couldn’t just follow the rules, I needed to know why. Why? Why? Why?

Maybe that’s what I need to do with life. Just follow the rules, stop trying to figure everything out.

Rule #1: Life isn’t based on any system of fairness. Deal with it.

Rule #2: Life is fuckin’ random. Stop fighting so hard and just roll with it.

Rule #3: A lot of shitty people somehow end up in positions of power…specifically over you. Refer to Rules 1 and 2. Just let it be. The universe has a way of working things out. Be patient.