Insane in the Membrane

Einstein, one of the greatest minds of all time, defines insanity as doing the same thing over and over expecting different results. Before I completely lost it tonight, I caught myself.

You may have heard me say before that I adhere to the philosophy (of a couple of my teachers) that relationship is the ultimate and could be the most difficult of all Yoga. While I have not read anything about Patanjali writing about it, I believe that relationships are so potent in reflecting back to us where we need work, what our fears are, and hopefully becoming aware of these things could eventually lead us to liberation, non-attachment, which should be tantamount to bliss.

I snapped The Dutch tonight. I was not communicating what I wanted and did not get what I wanted (shocker... you mean he's not psychic?) so I stuck my tongue out, arms crossed and stomped away. I felt incredibly empowered after my episode, too. I was laughing at how silly I acted. Heck, I was entitled to acting like a five year old!!!

But after two hours, like a child coming down from a sugar high, I felt bad. I am thirty-one and this was NOT how a mature, stable woman would act. The way I acted felt very familiar... sickeningly so. It was how I acted in previous relationships. I would/did/could not express what I need because I was in denial that I even had them. So when I am not getting fulfillment and satisfaction, I just shoved it under the rug and made believe that it has gone away forever.

Total B.S.

In a moment of clarity, I realized what I did and what the consequences are if I did not backpedal. I want this relationship to be built on communication, maturity, and ownership. How could I expect to invite in open communication if I'm not giving it myself? I want to be better at this because I know I can. I would be a total hypocrite and a complete failure if merely gloss over it. I know it will gnaw on me and eat me alive if I don't undo this terrible pattern.

So I picked up the phone and owned up to my irrational behavior. I said the things that were extremely difficult to say, regardless of how the other person might react or what he would think.

I feel very proud of myself for allowing vulnerability in. It is a very tender and raw place to be in, but at this point, there really is no other option.

I think I'm going to be up in this tightrope for a while....

Namaste from fifty feet up high..
Trish

Nightmares

Dreams are very telling for me. They have been over the last couple of years. I may have whined about my lucid dreaming experiences, but later on have seen their utility in my life and have learned to accept it as a rare gift. I guess you can say that I’m one of those people who have bought into the Jungian view about the unconscious and their manifestations in dreams (better than Freudian, I think!). Guidance from a trained Jungian has taught me to understand my own psyche and the unconscious that lies latent. But experience has also taught me that there are never any definitive, linear interpretations to dreams. We can take stabs at what they mean, and most of the time, if you are attuned to your inner life, I honestly believe that they reveal amazing insight into emotions, feelings shoved deep in our unconscious. But again, you can fall into the dangerous trap of overanalysis and come out with the conclusion that rarely is there ever an absolute answer.

I have been feeling physically drained all week, which is quite ironic because this is the week that I don’t have anything outside of work planned. My schedule has been wide freaking open, I have to rub my eyes in disbelief. I don’t remember the last time I had a week like this! I can always tell when my cycle is looming over my head like a dark, heavy rain cloud. Exhaustion and craving for unhealthy salt-laden food is symptomatic. I can tell that this week is that week.

I skipped the confounding and nonsensical (to me, at least) Irish revelry and traded it in for a cozy night under the covers. I wasn’t prepared for the assault of nightmares (two that I can count).

I will not go into details, but I understood that the fear that I dare not confront in waking life intruded my dreaming life. Why? Just because that’s what dreams do. That’s what their purpose is. They say that when we are in our waking states, our egos are very safe and comfortable. Our egos let their guards down when we are asleep, which then makes for a conducive, safe backdrop for our unconscious to come out and play.

After almost two years of solitude (well....they were all mere flings, after all), I find myself on the verge of something beautifully and instantaneously terribly serious. During the day, I am the warrior, strong and ready for the battle again. At night, I’m the helpless, fearful princess trapped in the fortress waiting to be rescued. Apparently.

I may be unconventional in the sense that I am grateful for bad dreams, especially those that rock you to the core. It’s YOU telling YOU something, and the more important the message is, the more forceful the dream will be. And because you have been told, you are now in the position to ACT.

I processed today and I feel re-energized, rejuvenated. It makes me feel good that I understand the workings of my life a little bit more. A Buddhist teaching reverberated with me throughout the day that is helping me be a little less scared:


The nature of everything is impermanence. If we look at everything – relationships, loving people – through the impermanent nature of reality, if we look at, say, a water glass and understand that it is ALREADY BROKEN, then our relationship with it completely changes. If we love people as if we have already lost them (fatalistic or not, THAT is the eventuality of EVERYTHING), we become less afraid because when you think about it, who else are you not going to lose?

Namaste, high tens, cartwheels, and now, chaines….

Dying

Spirituality is a dying process in so many levels. It is initially the death of the ego. I say initially because in my view, after the ego has been recognized, observed and understood, it has to be integrated back instead of denied. The tricky thing is to be aware of when it is activating and not to completely and blindly identify with it. Egoless existence, in my view, would make it futile to hold a job, have friends, to ever sustain a non-ascetic life. If your destiny is to be egoless, it would be immensely difficult if not impossible to traverse in this worldly existence, thus those who choose or are called to such a life retreat to either monastic life or that of a renunciate in the caves of Himalayas.

Spirituality also grounds on you on the impermanent nature of reality and this world. It (ideally) frees you from your attachments – desires, money, possessions, relationships – to a degree that you are prepared to die and leave this plane at any given moment. This is one facet of moksha, liberation: to truly live each day from a place of carpe diem free of stickiness and complications.

Every once in a while, I ponder on how I feel about death. I will not claim this to be an original idea of mine, because Vedanta (and other Eastern philosophies) is very heavy on this. The thought of death puts a lot of things in perspective. Things appear miniscule and inconsequential when the bottom line is advanced to the forefront of our compulsions, intentions and actions. It gives a whole dimension of awareness to our daily machinations and takes us out of autopilot. Everything is done with more deliberation. We taste and feel more. We are present and live more.

Last night, I was woken up by heavy footsteps in the living room at 2AM. My first thought was that there is an intruder in my house. I paused for a second to make sure I wasn’t dreaming the whole thing. F*ck. I wasn’t dreaming. There was somebody in the kitchen. The interesting thing was, I didn’t panic. I just laid there calmly. I could have reached for the heavy flashlight or the pepper spray in one of the drawers, or one of the sharp objects within reach that I had prepared for exactly a moment like this, but I felt resigned, almost ready, to, well, die.

Then I remembered I had a roommate. She lets out her dog to pee sometimes at ungodly hours.

I crack myself up so hard sometimes.

No Expectations. Only Surprises.

One of the best feelings like rainy Monday mornings (oh my God, everything is just so fresh…), is the feeling you get around people who do not expect anything from you. It’s not very easy to describe and I do think it takes a certain degree of awareness to tap into it, but when you get tuned to that place where the guards go down and you are not merely someone playing a role or reading from a script, it feels so damn good. This is why I crave being around my family so much. To them, I’m not someone who has accomplished this or that, who owns this or that. The labels of “spiritual”, “intellectual”, “successful”, yadda yadda yadda fall away. I’m not intimidating and powerful. I’m not *insert adjective here* relative to somebody else. I would like to think that I have even transcended the role of “daughter” or “cousin” or “niece”. When I’m around these people, I become Nobody. I love it. It's refreshing. Sometimes, the Somebody-ness that other people have built around me gets exhausting. And the humble home on Strawberry Way becomes my refuge.

My Grandma of 92 ½ also provides such warm solace and she doesn’t even know it. She doesn’t care about my identity, my role. Heck, she doesn’t even remember me! I am nameless, void of an identity and a personality. Every time I see her, it is like she is meeting me for the very first time. She is hardly ever coherent, and oftentimes, she would be asleep. When we watch people age like this, we really realize how the material, worldly things, have very little bearing. There is absolutely nothing material she needs or wants from me. There is absolutely nothing material I can give her. The only thing I can give her is love, and the only way I can give that to her is shower her with undiluted, unadulterated, full strength presence. When I’m with her, I am WITH HER. Nothing else. One day, her and I sat in the living room and I just let her listen to Bach from my iPod. Sometimes, I meditate while I hold her hand. I mean, what else can you do?

On the same floor is Rudy. He is, I don’t know, maybe 80, and the first time he saw me by the elevator, he said, “Will you save the first dance for me?” He won me over that day. Now, every time I see him, I talk to him for a little bit and he would be grinning from ear to ear. I would hear him chuckling as the elevator doors slowly shut before me. Nursing homes are brutal and sterile; there is very little laughter around. If I can give someone a few laughs with a smile and a wink, I’m all about it.

The non-romantic, non-relationship with The Italian is going well. Sometimes I wonder if having him around could be one of the psychologically healthiest things for me right now. It is a very honest, uncomplicated, clean relationship. It is really teaching me to slow down. This person seriously does not want nor need anything from me, it is very liberating. I have to admit that in the beginning, it was very confusing for the ego. How could this person not want anything from me?!

But the longer I know him, the more I see his conviction, strength and most of all, integrity. He does not want to get me laid. He doesn’t want me to care for him. He doesn’t want me to fall in love with him. I, in turn, trust him and do nothing to manipulate him or the situation. We are each our individual person and no attempts at filling each other's cavities - no co-dependency. All motives are made explicit - no stealthy manipulative tactics.

Yesterday, he made me push my limits and made me run three miles in the middle of the day while I trailed half a mile behind him. Absolutely awful for my ego, but good for my Self. Back at his place, he commended me for eating my lunch slowly and at the table, as opposed to eating on the couch in front of the TV as he often does. It's miniscule, but in a day, we have made a difference in each other's lives (as is almost always the case with The Italian). He teaches me to speed up once in a while. I teach him to slow down once in a while. Life is good. :)

This baffles a couple of people who know that I have been seeing him for seven months now. Why aren’t you together? Why are you still seeing him? Why? What are you guys exactly?

Aside from what I have already gushed in this and in previous posts, who the F cares??? What does it matter? Why complicate something that doesn’t need to be complicated? Our conversations are always enriching. We do a lot of fun, great stuff together and we always have an amazing, full and rich time. We share a deep mutual respect for each other, and while there's always work at the acceptance part, we try our hardest. The whole process is as organic like I've never seen before. When our time together is done, we release it. It’s done. Finito.

Non-possessive. Non-attachment. Complete trust in the moment and in the unknown.

No expectations.

Only surprises.

Namaste!

Gliding on Glass

One of the teachings of Eastern philosophy, and when I think about it is also prevalent in Christianity, is non-attachment to material possessions. Eastern traditions encourage us to detach from the impermanent things that bind and detract us from the more important, permanent things in life, and that also includes the non-material including, *gulp*, relationships.

I have been blessed with a reasonable amount of material possessions and while I am very grateful for a blessed life, I realize that these are all temporary and at any moment can be taken away. Because of that, I try to be careful not to build my life and identity around these things. I take care of the house, the car, the plants, the clothes, the shoes because I have them and the taking care of needs to be done. To be honest, I don't even really have a clear gauge of how to measure if I'm successful at the non-attachment or not. And to that, I tell myself that maybe sometimes, just that awareness is what counts.

I am fortunate to have a beautiful residence. I remember that a year before I signed the purchase of this house, I walked into it (it was a model home), and I immediately fell in love. It was as if the house was designed for me. But it was at a time when home prices were at an all time high and there was no way I could have afforded a home like it. At that time, all I really could do was whip out my camera, take a video of the interiors that were obviously professionally decorated, in the hopes that one day, when I could afford my own house, I could copy the style of this house.

Well, a year later, there I was, purchasing that same exact house, with all the upgrades and furnishings, at a much lower price and favorable interest rates. I still get goosebumps when I recall this story.

I have lived here for almost a year and a half now. This has been the place of such intense soul searching and aloneness for me. This place is my sanctuary. When my life has turned upside down and I was at a loss of how to deal with the catastrophe that lied before me, this place has been as warm and as safe as a womb. This is where I was slowly guided to silence and stillness where all the beautiful things and life as I know it today then started to unfold.

This is the video I took of the interiors of what will become my first house a year later

I love the house and I value my aloneness in this house. But I am challenging myself to detach myself from both. I cannot make it me nor mine, and I cannot make silence depend on my aloneness either. It was a decision that have taken prayer and intention and the right time has come. I have gotten a roommate.

I did not seek one. It just so happened that an acquaintance sold her house and had a part-time roommate (only stayed 2-3 days out of the week) that needed to relocate. I offered my house in the spring, but it did not quite work out. Last week, the same lady contacted me again and she told me that this time, she really needs a place in town yet again. It seems like this decision wasn't something I made myself. It seemed like it was what was going to happen and it did, without me hardly doing anything.

I have an ugly crack in my car's rear bumper that I have decided that I am not going to have fixed. A few weeks after I got rear-ended, I backed up into a tree in the woods. I think that was God telling me, "You didn't care about your bumper after you were rear-ended. Well, how about now?" It was interesting watching myself react to this. I have a very reliable car and it's very easy on the eyes. But that day, I had more important, fulfilling things to fix my mind on than a silly dent in my bumper. It's been a couple of weeks since and I have not lost sleep over it. It still runs the way it's supposed to, it does what it needs to do, so there's no point even considering the idea of getting both damages repaired.

And today, my part-time roommate moved her stuff. And did I mention that she has a little dog?

This non-attachment stuff is not easy, but nobody said it was going to be. At some point, we just need to see things as things, and things, as with all things, pass away or can be taken away. Our lives then need to be built around things of a more permanent nature. Every once in a while, we touch bliss and love and all that yummy goodness that in my opinion, are manifestations of God. Wouldn't it be nice if that is what we built our lives around instead?