Becoming Aware of What We’re Not Aware of

Befriend the Opposite

Or put in more psychological terms: making the unconscious, conscious.

Or said in more spiritual terms: shining the light on our darkness or shadow side.

So, if we don’t know that we are acting or reacting to circumstances and people in our life out of some unconscious patterning from our past or childhood, how do we then become aware of it?

Here are things that give me a clue that I have gone into an unconscious pattern response:

1. I feel numb and my life energy shuts down
2. My mind seeks to blame when I hurt
3. My partner will tell me or point it out! (not easy, but a quick reminder!)
4. I don’t smile, dance, or listen to music as much
5. My voice sounds irritated
6. I get defensive
7. I get very independent
8. My partner will notice that I am not being my true Self!

What do YOU do when you are hurt or reactive?
Do you see any correlation to what you may have done in response to dysfunctional family patterns?

Bless those that mirror us even though it is so painful!

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Wiping the Dirt Off the Window of Our Hearts

Dancing on the Edges of my Perfect Imperfections

Dancing on the edges of my perfect imperfections, with each sweeping step I slough off a little more of the dusty, caked on layers of experience from my past to love and see my partner and my self more clearly.

Love brings up all that is in its way to clear the path back to love.

An intimate relationship with our partner, children, or family members is a perfect place to get a good look at the unconscious soot that has covered our hearts and clouded our thinking.

“Dancing on the edges of my perfect imperfections.” It sounds so poetic, doesn’t it? Yet in those brief, chaotic moments of experiencing my judgements, heart closing down, or projection of my fears on my partner, I am far from feeling elegant or Rumi-like.

Love brings up all that is in its way to clear the path back to love.

Where else could I get such a quick and thorough dose of my own medicine?

Our nervous system is hijacked (fight, flight, freeze) when we’re triggered by something deeply unconscious, or mildly or severely traumatic (I recommend books and videos by Dr. Peter Levine PhD http://www.traumahealing.com/somatic-experiencing/peter-levine.html, trauma recovery through Somatic Experiencing). It is like being pulled out to sea in an undertow. We long for the safety of the shoreline, but there we stay thrashing about for what is usually a little while, but may feel like an eternity.

Self awareness is key to coming back to shore. We can feel and sense into part of our body that feels grounded and peaceful – a technique to stay present to what is real and what is happening to us. Attention to the breath is often a wonderful place to anchor ourselves to the moment, but at these times of heightened reactivity our erratic breath may not be the best anchor.

Conscious relationship IS a daring path to enlightenment for some of us. I think it is a warrior’s path to enlightenment – not for the meek or weak-hearted.

I am grateful for all the master teachers out there that put themselves through hell to share tools for working with ourselves (Robert Augustus Masters http://www.RobertMasters.com, Dr. Peter Levine, Lorin Roche, jsut to name a few.)
I am grateful that in this lifetime, I am naturally committed to taking responsiblity for my reactions through deep reflection, meditation, or consulting with friends or therapists.

I will end with a poem by Lorin Roche (http://www.LorinRoche.com)…

“You don’t have to change yourself.
You don’t have to sit still.
You don’t have to sit cross-legged.
You don’t have to make your mind blank.
You don’t have to calm down.”

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I Love You, Condition Your Hair.

I bet you are thinking, what the hell does that title mean. Where is she going with this one?

Well, it is a long, long standing tradition that my mother must comment on my hair, for some reason, every time I see her. Even yesterday, after 3 weeks in her hospital bed, in and out of states of delirium and dementia. I hoped that maybe this time the goodnight goodbye “I love you” could just have ended at that…sweet and silent. But noooooo. It STILL had to be followed by a comment about my hair. By the way, I happen to LIKE my hair.

A month ago at my only uncle’s funeral service she just couldn’t help but toss a comment. There I was, feeling pretty and dressed up for the occasion. Hell, even my long lost cousins said I looked great (at 48 this feels like a nice compliment).

Mom turned to look at me. I thought she was going to blurt out something special, deep, or touching. After all, we were at a funeral. But nooooope. She just uttered, “You need to condition your hair.”

And I still felt a sense of shock and wonder, after all these years. Somewhere inside me I know it is coming from her love for me, but it never feels that way when it happens.

The button is still there. There is yet more work to do on my part.
This last time in the hospital I asked more. I am actually becoming intrigued by this phenomenon. It may seem like nothing to you, but it was new for me. “Why are you still so obsessed about my hair?” I asked her. “I remember how it used to be.” She replied. “But I am almost 50 years old now!” I almost shouted. I left the hospital, still astounded by her constant focus on my hair, and even more perplexed by my own reactions.

So, I wonder what the humid, wet, NJ weather will do for my hair tomorrow. I’m going to the hospital to see her.

Let’s see what she has to say.

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Goodbyes

Those last moments together become suspended and frozen in time when we say goodbye. Big, hot sensations and a choking lump overwhelming the throat . The mysteriousness of life saturates the space as we look past the eyes to the souls behind them. Lots of questions flash through the mind about our destiny, chance and fate.

What will the next days, weeks and months hold for us on our separate, but connected journey?

When I see you again who will I be? Will life harden or soften me in the time in between?

And then there is that unsettling emptiness after the departure. A little numb, a little sad; the one left behind returns to the duties of the day while thinking about the talks, the experiences, and the exchanges. The last minute phone calls at the airport seem like a desparate attempt to reassure the connection through space and distance.

Lots of space. Lots of silence. Longing and love, love and longing go together in that Sanskrit chant, “Radhe govinda, govinda radhe.”

That is the WAY of it.

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Feline MIA’s

Yesterday I printed out pictures of 2 of my cats and posted them on my refrigerator. They are Missing In Action.

Sylvester, who never misses a meal, has been away for 3 days. Chilloncita, the “little cry baby,” has been gone for over a month. Once I thought Chilloncita was gone forever, but she made a surprise visit after being missing for about 6 weeks. She could quite possibly turn up at any time.

Sylvester never pulls that kind of stunt, and so I am a bit more concerned about him. At the same time, I want to imagine that he is just off in the jungle somewhere, having a long overdue adventure for himself. Maybe he found some great Christmas left overs.

We just never know when the last time is that we will see someone or something. It hits home when their form disappears suddenly. Maybe they are missing, or maybe they just died. It’s like the whole in a donut; the form goes a away and a temporary vacancy is created that is distinct – palpable. It’s almost impossible for the mind to grasp. When I think about it for more than a few minutes, I feel my myself slipping into an altered state of consciousness.

Once I heard an interview with one of the producers of the TV show Seinfeld. He talked about the phenomenon of the “alleyway of power,” or something like that, referring to the doorway in Jerry’s apartment where Kramer, Elaine, and George made their classic entrances and exits that defined there characters. There is a corner of my property at the back right where two walls meet. I think of this corner as the “alleyway of power” for my feline friends.

Bat kitty’s entrance is boisterous and she cries out, “here I am!” At the other end of the entrance spectrum is Pijamas, who tip toes in, careful not to disturb anyone. Sylvester related to the alleyway like a guard at a border crossing. He was in charge of who came in and when. For a while, he was the alpha male around here. That changed recently when velvet black Junio came onto the scene. Over the last few months I noticed Sylvester slithering in silently from the property in the front, not the back, and he did this ever so cautiously and delicately. It was as if he didn’t want to attract attention to himself.

Three days now and no entrances or exits from Sylvester. A bit like a cat myself, I notice and miss his pattern.

After all, it has been 4 years. I hope he comes back, but I am not that confident.

I guess I was secretly hoping that if I posted their photos on the refrigerator, they would sense that and come home.

There were a few times in the past when I thought about Chilloncita, and in the next day or so she would come calling; like when you think about a friend and your cell phone immediately rings and it’s them on the line.

I look longingly at that back right corner.

UPDATE: JANUARY 8, 2009   Sylvester returned! He quietly sat on the edge at the alleyway of power this morning and waited for me to notice him. Unfortunately, he was obviously sick and hadn’t eaten or had a drink for the whole 8 days. I rushed him over to the vet and they began IV and antibiotics. He was completely dehydrated but he still had a lot of life in his eyes, and I am hopeful he will get well. We still don’t know why he left or what caused him to stop eating. He didn’t have a fever, so the vets were puzzled. Thank you to his well wishers who read this blog. As for me, I am still getting over a fever myself.

Last Seen Chilloncita

MIA Sylvester

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The Seesaw of Sharing

I feel like a tomato without its skin. It’s that sinking feeling in my stomach again. Did I just divulge too much about my recent tragedies, hardships, bad luck, or bad karma to a new friend? The doubt creeps in when I begin to hear her well-meaning advice coming toward me instead of the shared empathy I crave.

The extremes of codependency can appear in a single conversation! Amazing! One person is exposing themselves too much, or “spilling it all too quickly” as it is referred to in certain literature about codependency. And the other person is reacting out of their unconscious need to help, over care-take, or correct the situation. Instead of just listening or empathizing from their own shared experience, they quickly begin to give advice, admonitions, and astute observations as if they were somehow privy to insider information.

Both people in the conversation mean well, but the conversation begins to spiral downward.

I wanted to jump out of my body like it was a Halloween costume worn too long.

“You should pray more.” ” Hum…do you notice a pattern here?” she says to me with her index finger placed over her lip , and eyebrows furrowed a bit like my therapist.

I become queasy. How do I stop this runaway train now? Dizzy discomfort. Oh no! The conversation has turned to “fixing” me. Oh no!

My soul cries, “I don’t want to be fixed! I don’t need to be fixed!”

And simultaneously, another truth dawns on me: I recognize my own self in this situation. I am reminded of the times that I so wanted to help others, I couldn’t plain old listen.

For a moment, I am consoled by this realization, and that the fact that I can empathize even though I am uncomfortable.

I renew my efforts to catch myself in the quest to change anyone. I feel redeemed, and

then I jump back into my exposed pealed tomato body.

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