there is a chapel on the 2nd floor
i go there every day
the hardest part is praying
- because i don't know what i want
- because i like to feel in control of things
- because i get lost in thought
i get tripped up on wanting because i identify desire with something tangible: a pony, a ring, a room with a view
but i've never really been interested in things
(believe me when i say, no job title, mode of transportation, or personal décor is going to silence the inner chatter)
what i really want is to feel differently
instead of feeling all of the A's (anxious, alone, afraid, etc) i want to feel:
- well rested & refreshed
- safe & warm
- nourished & inspired
- appreciated & cherished
- grateful & fulfilled
- curious & childlike (translation: seeing the magic in the first snowfall of the season)
- peaceful & free
- loved & supported
- kind & generous
sometimes i just overthink things. i already feel all of those feelings in various parts of my life. i simply need to appreciate them and live more in that space.
and if the hardest part is asking/praying for what i want, then that means for the next 10 days i'm going to practice being grateful for what i already have.
and that is what we're going to do on sunday
Tuesday, November 18, 2014
Wednesday, November 12, 2014
when i find my peace of mind, i'm gonna give you some of my good time
This doesn't have to be perfect.
I'm thinking and over thinking each word I type. Deleting. Censoring. Revising.
But there is no right way to write this blog post.
The expectation is simple: release the thoughts that are taking up too much space.
In no particular order.
It's been 59 days since I've seen the ocean.
I don't like who I am when I'm anxious and controlling.
I want to control things.
I want to be perfect.
Even now, I can't write freely. I can't write the way that I used to. This disconnect between my brain and my fingers has lasted for decades now. It's exhausting.
What would it feel like to let go of everything? To stop micro managing, to stop investing in the outcome?
His problems will no longer by my problems.
There won't be so much stuff.
I won't care what people think.
I'm going to meditate now.
I'm thinking and over thinking each word I type. Deleting. Censoring. Revising.
But there is no right way to write this blog post.
The expectation is simple: release the thoughts that are taking up too much space.
In no particular order.
It's been 59 days since I've seen the ocean.
I don't like who I am when I'm anxious and controlling.
I want to control things.
I want to be perfect.
Even now, I can't write freely. I can't write the way that I used to. This disconnect between my brain and my fingers has lasted for decades now. It's exhausting.
What would it feel like to let go of everything? To stop micro managing, to stop investing in the outcome?
His problems will no longer by my problems.
There won't be so much stuff.
I won't care what people think.
I'm going to meditate now.
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
it's all about taking the easy way out i suppose
i won't talk. my thoughts feel too disorganized. messy and out of control. nothing comes out right. from my mouth or my pen. it's frustrating but i'm too used to it to put up a fight.
resistance makes everything harder. heavier than it already is. so i surrender. i always surrender.
saturday i fell asleep on my brother's sofa, my niece curled up beside me. why is she sleeping, she kept asking, but i couldn't muster up the desire to get up. sunday i got up twice-- the first time only to make pancakes for tt before he left for work-- the second time because it was 1:30 and it was just time.
there are things i could be doing, should be doing. but i don't know what to do next. nothing makes sense. nothing fits where it's supposed to.
i look around and there is no where to put the pots and pans or the mail that comes every day. i feel lost, without the little white table in the kitchen... every time i look at the space against the wall the emptiness inside me grows.
in our apartment, there are lights in every corner but i still feel like i'm living in the dark. i'm reaching out but there is nothing to hold on to. so i hold onto the fear itself.
the problem with holding onto fear is that it's like locking myself in a cage and trying to live between the bars because i'm not really sure if it's safer inside or out.
i have been second guessing my inner gps system for decades now and when i lost my way i panicked and pulled the emergency brake because i'm standing still. i'm watching it all pass by wondering which way i'm supposed to go but everywhere i look i see chaos and disorder.
i shut down. numb even on the inside. dormant like a perrenial flower that has the potential to grow. wake me up, i long to say, when everything has thawed.
i am patient. i will wait. i will wait.
resistance makes everything harder. heavier than it already is. so i surrender. i always surrender.
saturday i fell asleep on my brother's sofa, my niece curled up beside me. why is she sleeping, she kept asking, but i couldn't muster up the desire to get up. sunday i got up twice-- the first time only to make pancakes for tt before he left for work-- the second time because it was 1:30 and it was just time.
there are things i could be doing, should be doing. but i don't know what to do next. nothing makes sense. nothing fits where it's supposed to.
i look around and there is no where to put the pots and pans or the mail that comes every day. i feel lost, without the little white table in the kitchen... every time i look at the space against the wall the emptiness inside me grows.
in our apartment, there are lights in every corner but i still feel like i'm living in the dark. i'm reaching out but there is nothing to hold on to. so i hold onto the fear itself.
the problem with holding onto fear is that it's like locking myself in a cage and trying to live between the bars because i'm not really sure if it's safer inside or out.
i have been second guessing my inner gps system for decades now and when i lost my way i panicked and pulled the emergency brake because i'm standing still. i'm watching it all pass by wondering which way i'm supposed to go but everywhere i look i see chaos and disorder.
i shut down. numb even on the inside. dormant like a perrenial flower that has the potential to grow. wake me up, i long to say, when everything has thawed.
i am patient. i will wait. i will wait.
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