When do you stop looking for your mother's approval?

The movie Skin made me really think about this topic.  It came up again last night at dinner with my parents when my mother again remarked that I need to put on weight--to at least get to be a size 6 so that I "look like I've had children".  I try to not let her comments bother me.  I'm happy at my current weight and I'm working hard to maintain it. I try to remember that she's from a different generation and grew up in a different culture. I try to remind myself that when I was a size 16, she had negative comments to make then too so realistically, there is probably no size that I could be that would be ideal.  And if I did somehow reach that magical perfect size, there would be something else that wouldn't be perfect.  I know that intellectually.  But it still feels like I'm falling short and not quite measuring up to some standard.  And never will.  

So when do you finally accept that you will never get your mother's approval?  When do you stop looking for it?  

Interplay

I rarely purchase books without previewing them by borrowing them from the library first.  I went out on a limb, however, to purchase these two books that were not in my library system:  When Things Fall Apart: Heart Advice for Difficult Times by Pema Chodron and Daily Wisdom: 365 Buddhist Inspirations edited by Josh Bartok.  Chodron's book was recommended to me on a message board I'm on and I'm getting through it slowly.  It makes a lot of sense to me and I really like her writing style.  One thing I've started doing is meditating just as she describes.  I've said before that I like "daily" books, you know, books with something for each day of the year so that's why I purchased Daily Wisdom.  So far, I am quite pleased with it.  Yesterday's entry really spoke to me--enough that I will type the whole thing out:

With all this talk of non-self-existence and the illusory nature of phenomena we might conclude that ourselves, others, the world, and enlightenment are totally non-existent.  Such a conclusion is nihilistic and too extreme.  Phenomena do exist.  It is their apparently concrete and independent manner of existence that is mistaken and must be rejected.  

Take the example of a rainbow.  Does it exist or not? Of course it does, but how?  As something arising from the interplay of droplets of water in the sky, sunlight, and our own point of observation.  A rainbow, then, is an interdependent phenomenon and if we investigate, we can discover its various causes and conditions. 

In a similar way, all existent phenomena are mere appearances to the mind, lacking concrete self-existence, they come into being from the interplay of various causes and conditions.  This is true of ourselves as well.  We and all other phenomena without exception are empty of even the smallest atom of self-existence, and it is this emptiness that is the ultimate nature of everything that exists.

LAMA THUBTEN YESHE, INTRODUCTION TO TANTRA

I've read that passage over a number of times and I still need more time to make sense of it completely.  But what I drew from it is the word "interplay".  I've heard this concept expressed in many different ways but something about the use of the word interplay really resonated deeply with me.  It speaks to the sci-fi lover in me, in a way . . . something only "exists" to the extent that other things "exist".  That's a powerful thought. 

Escaping the Scarcity Mentality

The mentality of scarcity is something that creeps up on me.  I try to cultivate this feeling of abundance by being really grateful for all it is I have.  But I think in these difficult economic times, where all the reports keep repeating how bad it is and how much worse it's getting, it's easy to slip into a mode of thinking that says that there couldn't possibly be enough or there won't be enough.

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I started thinking really deeply about this the other day because of two things.  Firstly, my knife.  You know I feel like a good, sharp knife is perhaps the most important tool in the kitchen.  Yet, I am always hesitant to sharpen my knife.  The other day I really took a moment to think about why.  I realized that deep inside, I don't want to sharpen it because I'm trying to prolong the life of it since it was such an expensive knife (by my standards).  Now, there's nothing wrong with trying to get the most out of something especially when you've paid good money for it.  Except if you are depriving yourself of enjoying that very thing, it kind of defeats the purpose.

Secondly, my running gloves.  These too were also a pretty big chunk of change for me.  The fact of the matter is that they are very good gloves under my wool mittens because they have a wind-breaking hood and actually keep my hands moderately warm so I can do things like unlock the door or strap my children into car seats.  But I found myself making the decision not to wear them, again, to prolong their life.  So I find myself with frosty fingers (my hands are always cold) wondering why I don't just always wear the dang running gloves.  

I figured out that the underlying thought process is that should the knife go dull or the gloves fray or get a hole, I won't be able to replace them.  That kind of thinking only increases my chances that this will indeed be the case.  So I'm actively looking for ways and working on methods to let go of this fear, to live in in the present and enjoy what I have now to the fullest.  

Does the scarcity mentality ever creep up on you?  How do you put it to rest?  

Am I too old for that?

I'm 29 years old which is relatively young, I think.  Yet, I feel old.  And most of the time people will add 5-10 years to my actual age and be quite surprised when I tell them how old I really am.  I don't think it's that I look particularly old (although I do have gray hair already).  I think it's more so my energy and approach to things.  

To a large extent, I have always felt much older than my true age.  This is due to two things: my personality and birth order.  In terms of my personality, I am naturally serious and focused.  One of my biggest challenges with having my own children is being able to relax and play--to do activities that don't have a particular goal or aim except fun.  Not being able to just have fun will make you feel old and age you.  In terms of my birth order, I'm the eldest of three children and growing up, my parents expected me to be more responsible and to help out with my little sister and brother.  Again, I felt there was very little room for me to be playful and silly and so my natural inclination to be "grown up" was reinforced.  

The other day, I was at the thrift store and I spotted the cutest little pink earflap hat with a big, old pom-pom at the top.  I really wanted to get it but I told myself I was too old to wear something so silly and childish.  Luckily, by the time I convinced myself that I wasn't too old and went back to get it, it was still there (for the handsome price of $1.00).   I bought it, fixed a little of the crochet edgings that had come lose, washed it and then tried it on. I'll admit, I felt kind of silly but I still really like it.  So whatever, I wear it.  And it gives me a "youth" jolt.  

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For the longest time, I have wanted to cut my hair into a mohawk.  I knew it would look good on me and would complement my face but the same tape about being too old kept playing back in my head.  On Sunday, I just decided to do it.  I'm having all kinds of anxious thoughts about how it will be received at work and in general but . . . I just need to give it a try.  I need to liberate myself from this idea of being too old for things.  I'm only 29 for goodness sake.  And you are only as old as you think you are.

I'm never one to jump on that bandwagon of bashing women in their 40s and 50s who are "trying to look young".  I mean, I guess there are clothes and makeup that are not appropriate for everyone but who are we to dictate what someone is "too old" for?  I can't stand all these boxes we try to force people to fit into based on their sex, gender, age, race, religion, etc.  

And I can't stand that mentally, I've been putting myself in a box.  I'm really making an effort to break out and not limit myself based on some useless idea of being too old.  I mean, there are good reasons to understand and appreciate one's age.  You don't want to keep repeating the mistakes of your youth.  You want to grow in wisdom and understanding.  You don't want to stagnate at some juvenile mental age. But at the same time, you don't want to stagnate at some older age and become a person who can't change, who won't take risks, who won't experiment because you're "too old for that."  

Again, it comes back to the whole challenge of finding balance.  And it is a daily, moment-by-moment exercise. 

Have you written down your goals?

One of my best friends and I are working on what we are calling, "Do Lists".  These are things that was need to do in this lifetime and we're not limiting it to 2010 although there are some things marked "urgent".  These things we'd like to see happen much sooner than later.

I'm not one to tell people how to go about keeping the promises they've made to themselves but I do believe this one thing: if you are serious about reaching your goals, you must write them down.  In detail.  Very specifically.  

So it's not, "I want to get fit".  No!  It's I want to

-be able to touch my toes

-jump rope for 30 seconds without stopping

-do 5 push ups

-run a mile in 15 minutes

It's not, "I want to have more friends" . . . it's I want:

-companions to knit with

-someone to cook with

-a book club to join that suits me

I think (and experience confirms) that this is the most effective way to achieve your goals.  Post your specific goals in highly visible places.  Or not.  Tuck it away in a diary or a book and refer to it periodically.  It makes such a difference to see what you are aiming for and to imagine it/visualize it happening as if it were happening.

"With our thoughts we make the world," said the Buddha.  I'm all about finding out if he spoke the truth.  And I'm starting with my list.  

I don't want to speak too soon

And jinx myself.

But I think I finally know what is the cause of the stomach/gut problems I have been experiencing all these years: beans.

If nothing else, eating a wheat free diet these past weeks has forced me to really focus on my eating and how I feel after I eat a particular meal.  I noticed that typically after every meal, I'd feel bad.  Sometimes worse than others.  So I had started to suspect that wheat was not the culprit since I had not felt even a tiny bit better after cutting it out.  I started to suspect beans.  Yesterday, I didn't eat any beans at all.  No tofu.  No hummus.  No bean anything.  In other words, I had to rearrange everything I ate yesterday to exclude beans and that was actually more difficult than excluding wheat.  Three-fourths of my diet centers on beans.  

So I didn't eat it yesterday.  And I felt amazing yesterday and I continue to feel amazing now.  My stomach is settled.  I'm not in pain.  

I kind of feel a little foolish for not realizing it sooner but I had always prepped my beans properly (well soaked and cooked with kombu).  And I'd never heard anyone complain of gas associated with eating tofu or soy milk so I didn't think that could be part of the problem (although I did eliminate soy at one point to see if it was making my hair thin).

Now I have to really re-vamp my whole diet and I'm a little daunted.  See, I don't really know how to cook any other way besides vegetarian. I eat fish but it is really just as an aside:  a baked salmon fillet or some canned tuna added to a salad (that probably has beans in it).  I searched some books I have and also on the internet and came up with some recipes for raw burgers and hummus-like dips made with seeds or nuts but my intuition is telling me that this is it for me and a mainly-plant based diet.  I'm going to return to eating meat.  Of course, I have lots of standards for whatever meat I will eat and as my fortune would have it, I met a great mama a few weeks ago who runs a buying co-op.  The co-op sells all kinds of meat, milk, eggs and other groceries raised and produced at a farm nearby.  So I'm able to purchase high quality animal products (not fed soy) in a relatively inconvenient  way (pick-up is not far).  I'm not exactly sure where to start first in terms of cooking it but I figure that I can start by just adding chicken, turkey or beef to dishes where I would have used beans.  And then go from there.  Like Monday's dinner was sweet and spicy chili from Vegan Planet.  It tore my stomach up!  But I could cook the chili and before I add the beans, take out half or so to another pot and add some browned turkey or beef.  And then with the remaining half, add half the amount of beans.  

Sometimes I feel so stupid for going down the road of vegetarianism and staying on it even though I just felt worse and worse and worse as I continued.  I really wanted to be healthy but I got some micro-focused on this one way of "healthy" eating that I ignored the fact that it hasn't been healthy for me.    Yes, I had allergies and acne and all that . . . I really believed that a vegan/vegetarian/plant based diet would heal me.  Instead, I still have all that stuff and more complexities added on to it.  

I think about the spiritual aspects as well and I have to be completely honest:  not eating animals has never made me feel any closer to God or any more spiritual or connected.  I guess it's kind of hard to get connected when your gut feels like it's going to explode or something.  I actually feel that eating in a way that doesn't cause me to feel sick is the most compassionate thing I can do for myself . . . but I'm not sure how to align compassion on myself with compassion on the animals that have to die in order for me to eat.  The very least I can do is to make sure that the animals I do eat had decent lives and were killed as humanely as possible.  

It just amazes me sometimes how the ideals I had in my early twenties have just not matched up to my reality.  And it's taken this long to finally be okay with letting go and accepting what is.  

Still Growing, Still Learning

I am.  

I let something go down a few days ago that had me kicking myself for my inability to stand up for myself and defend myself as the hardworking, knowledgeable, resourceful, experienced, well-read and wise woman that I am.  I was angry at myself for giving up my power.  I was angry at myself for the incredibly inane act of actually giving someone fodder with which to criticize me in my misguided (and just flat wrong) attempts to be agreeable and, well, liked.  And angry at the person too even though he/she wasn't doing anything I didn't allow.

I'm constantly doing work to better myself as a person and a mother.  I read a lot.  I meditate a lot.  I chant.  It's a priority to me and I'm open to advice and instruction.  I just always need to bear in mind that no one knows better than me (and I will *know* best if I just stay in touch with my gut, my true self).  

Anyway, after a couple of days, I am finally grateful for the experience.  It served as a gentle reminder to myself that I still have a lot of work to do in the area of communication. One of my best friends has been studying non-violent communication for a long time and this was finally the experience that I needed to make me realize that I need something to help me learn how to communicate in a way that's effective yet non-violent.  I recognize that many of my communication issues stem from my childhood and the way I was raised.  I feel myself tense when there's a possibility that a discussion will lead to flared tempers or hurt feelings and so I recoil and get passive (with strangers or folks who don't know me very well) or I get very defensive and lash-out (with those I'm closest to).  I want to express my needs without worrying about others reactions because I know that I'm conveying what I feel without accusing or projecting.  And that's a challenging thing to do.  

On another note, recently at my altar, I've been reading the book Buddhism for Mother's by Sarah Napthali.  This book is really a good one for me.  For some reason, I've been unable to incorporate ideas (or I've been inconsistent about doing so) from other books regarding integrating Buddhism into daily life but not the case with this one.  It is surprisingly accessible and I'm really enjoying it.  The last topic I covered was anger and on a few occasions, I've been able to watch my anger and figure out beneficial ways to handle it. The other day, I had just put a fresh diaper on Z1 getting him ready for be and he took it off. We were already running late and I just wanted to get them into bed.  Ordinarily, I would have flown into a rage (tired, frustrated, etc) . . . but this time, I was able to just acknowledge my anger, acknowledge that it was frustrating and just to put on the diaper with love and keep it moving.  In the grand scheme of things, really, it wasn't a big deal.  Certainly not big enough to let anger ruin the whole evening.  

Another surprising by-product of this book is that I've been honoring the Buddha(s) more.  It's amazing how so many of his words ring true even in this day and age.   

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Being Myself.

I had two topics I wanted to write about tonight: the first was the sad state of my Buddhist practice and the second was Afro-centrism.  I went with the second topic which came about after watching YouTube videos posted by two beautiful and intelligent, natural, African-centered women.

I trodded RastafarI for a number of years.  One of the major teachings is the idea of repatriation, or returning to one's homeland which for Black people is Africa.  Most RastafarI people are very Afrocentric (or try to be) in their world views and I tried to be too.  But it didn't come naturally.  I didn't have any romanticized ideas of Africa and I know it's because I'm only a first generation American born to parents who immigrated from Nigeria.  Repatriating, to me, was not necessarily the end to all ills and I didn't have any illusions about what moving back to Africa right now would be like.  So I never really had a burning desire to repatriate physically although I thought I should and honestly, probably would have had the right man come along talking about building and going back to our root by living in Africa.

What did resonate with me though, was African ways of thinking and being, ways of thinking and being that are forgotten by Black people--both those on the continent and those that are part of the diaspora.  It's worth it to me to remember from whence you came. Mental and spiritual repatriation, if you will.   It eliminates future mistakes and helps you to stay true to yourself.  I do believe our ancestors had a certain wisdom that you don't readily come upon these days.  And so I really did (and do) try to embrace an Afrocentric way of thinking--although it may not be obvious. 

Now that I'm raising my children, I notice that I don't place a big emphasis on Africa.  I'm not planning to take an Afrocentric approach to their education although it is definitely important to me to teach African history and geography and also to teach general history including Black people.  Africa (and Black people) is largely ignored in mainstream education so I'm so happy to be homeschooling in that regard since I can provide this aspect of my children's education.   I had to learn all the European countries but not the African ones.  This will not be the case for my kids. 

But, I guess, being Afrocentric or at least, really loud and proud about being African (and natural, and conscious) is not something I am striving for anymore.  But I remember the energy with which I did.  I kind of hate to say it but my whole ordeal with my thinning hair and locks really set the stage for a whole reorganizing of how I think and what I am. Because of this, I hesitate to say that hair is just hair.  Even though it is just hair.  It has really influenced my politics and my spirituality. 

Africa is important to me but not in a fanatical way.  It's important to me in a natural way, because that's where I come from.  It's my homeland.  I hope to live there one day.  I think when the west falls, that may be the best place to live.  But I don't really rock daishikis anymore.  Or wear traditional clothes at all.  The only ankh I wear now, from time to time,  is a small silver pendant on silver chain and when I think why it's significant to me now, it's not because it shows that I know about ancient Khemet (and am therefore "with it" when it comes to all things Afrikan).   It's more so because I am moved by the meaning of it and really, I would wear something that means what it means no matter what culture it originated from.   There was a time in my life where you wouldn't catch me without my ankh, a button, pin, ribbon or something declaring AFRICA!! Currently, there are really no signs that I'm "afrocentric". Talking to me you might not know.  Looking at me, you definitely wouldn't know.  

I'm African but raised in America so I'm American too.  I'm just learning to embrace both and keep it moving without guilt and without any inclination to be something I'm not.

Love or Understanding?

This very interesting question came up on one of my message boards:  

What's more important to you: to be loved or to be understood?

I really had to think about it.  

I think that you can love a person deeply and genuinely but not totally understand him/her.  I think this this because it's difficult to even understand yourself. As you get older, if you work on it, you do really get a better understanding of yourself, i.e. who/what you are becomes clearer to you.   But it may take many lifetimes, in my opinion to really totally understand yourself.  

Yet, I know that my sister, my best friend and my hubby, the folks who are closest to me, all really love me despite the fact that they don't understand every aspect of me.  I know for sure that I'm an anomaly to my parents, yet I believe they love me.  

Here's the thing though: they all know me very well even if they don't completely understand.  

But is knowing the same things as understanding?  Not necessarily.  Like learning your times tables or how to find the area of a triangle in grade school.  You can know these by heart, know them very well but it is not until you get into advanced mathematics and science, much later on,  when you really manipulate and work with these formulas and theorems that you can claim to really understand what's going on. It's one of the main reasons I want to homeschool:  I did very well in school because I knew a lot of stuff; I could retain huge amounts of information and could often apply it  But I didn't always fully understand it.  That became obvious when I started college. 

So I do think there can be deep, genuine and abiding love without complete understanding if there is a high level of knowledge.  As healthy relationships mature, though, you get to  really know the other person better and I think understanding begins and then deepens. 

But I also think it's wonderful when the understanding does begin to happen.  I think that is what makes for longevity in a marriage or any other intimate relationship that we maintain by choice.  No one wants to be in situation where whatever he/she does elicits a raised eyebrow from his/her partner.  That's just exhausting.  It's equally exhilarating--thrilling even--when you meet someone who really seems to "get you".  But if a relationship like this progresses to romantic love though (as I've experienced before), the person can sometimes start to act like they've got a handle on you better than you've got a handle on yourself.  Which is annoying, to say the least.

Anyway, the question got me thinking about soul mates again--how if two people were truly soul mates, if such a thing exists, that there would be this profound understanding between the two of them precisely because they are matched in such a mystical way. 

So is love that is not based on understanding superficial?  Is it not real?  Personally, I don't think so. if the love is based on genuinely knowing the person. I am totally and completely convinced that those closest to me love me because they know me.  The show love in the most wonderful of ways.  And I cannot conceive of the devastation that they would feel if they lost me or if I lost them.

And here's the kicker for me: unequivocally I love my children.  There are times that it really hits me that I don't really understand why they are a certain way; why they are behaving a certain way.  But I love them anyway because of who they are to me.  What they mean to me.  

So I guess I conclude that being loved is more important to me than being understood.  But I will add a disclaimer and say that the latter is also important as we need to be understood by at least someone so we don't feel (or go) crazy.  And I think it's a noble effort to continually work to understand those you love.  I think that demonstrates love in deeply profound way.

Anyway, I thought of this song while I was writing this.  It's called Perfect Love and Understanding by one of my favorite roots reggae groups, Israel Vibration.

Tracts: Do they really work?

I was driving home this morning after my (amazing) yoga class and a quick (speed work) run.  I noticed two well-dressed ladies handing out tracts to the Mexican guys who wait to get picked up for work on one corner of my town's main street.  

Now, I used to be one of those ladies, shy as I was, handing out tracts in a well-intentioned effort to win souls for Christ.  Even then, I wondered how effective handing out tracts was.  I saw people stuff them into their pocket but I imagined that one day, they'd be terribly down and out, and on a chance, find the tract they stuffed in their pocket all those days ago and it would speak to them and they would give their heart to the Lord.  And my efforts at evangelism would have worked.  

Nowadays, I don't take tracts from anyone except really old ladies who are cooing at my two cutie pie boys.  

It just got me wondering . . . are tracts really an effective way to evangelize?  Do they really work?  I'm way skeptical about tracts and wonder if they are worth the paper they are printed on.  Especially in these days of constant entertainment and business.  Do people actually read them? Does it touch anyone?  I personally have never met anyone who decided to come to Christ because of a tract.  But maybe they are out there. 

Anyway, I cringe at the thought of some of the tracts I handed folks.  Stuff that would have been highly offensive to people of other faiths.  Stuff that was written to bring folks to God out of fear and not out of love.  Stuff that was just plain bizarre.  But I know my heart was pure and I was just trying to do what I thought God wanted me to do.  So maybe at the end of the day, it's really not about the recipient of the tract exactly but about the person giving them out. 

Surprise Endings?

I know it may sound strange but I am shocked by the changes that have happened to my body over the last 2 years as I've been on this fitness/weight loss journey.  

I'd always been a very shapely woman--hourglass figure and all that.  Now that I've lost all this weight, I have an "athletic" build meaning that my waist and hips measure about the same.  I had more of a childbearing figure before I bore children!

The hubby mentioned that it's all about body shaping and that anyone can morph their body:  bulk up, slim down, accentuate certain parts.  I started to wonder what my body would have looked like had I started to lift heavy weights before I started to lose weight.  I know they say that muscle burns fat--but I don't think it would have burned it at quite the rate that following Weight Watchers did.  I do think it might have made more of a difference [in my initial weight loss] had I focused more on lifting heavy weights and placed less of an emphasis on cardio.  It's funny how I didn't learn about the benefits of weight lifting until I was well into my fitness/weight loss journey.  Could I maybe have preserved some of the shapeliness while losing weight?  If I put on the weight again and continued to lift heavy weight, what would my body look like?  I may never know.  It's just one more bump in the road to complete self-acceptance and for me, self-acceptance is truly something I have to work at every minute of every day.

And I think that's an important lesson for folks trying to lose weight/get in shape--especially post-partum mothers.  There are all these examples of what you could look like if you follow this or that plan and it's easy to get wrapped up in it all and think, "Hey, that's how I want to look!"  In reality, you can never really predict where you'll lose weight (just like you can't foresee where you'll put it on).  You can't say for certain that your arms will look like [insert woman with great arms here] or that your calves with be Olympic ready.  These are things that are for the most part mediated by genetics.   Even though we can't say for certain how we'll look exactly by following a certain exercise regimen or philosphy, I'm fascinated by the fact that we have the ability to change our bodies so dramatically.  To me, that speaks to our innate power to create.

And it's right in line with how I feel about the Creator these days.  You don't always know what the end result will be but there's this understanding and this hope that no matter which way it goes, it will be good.  Or at least that's how I like to think the Creator thinks.  Then there's this nagging thought that maybe the Creator is not all that invested.  I don't know.  And that was a crazy tangent so getting back to the point . . . .

I usually like surprise endings in novels.  You don't want a predictable end all the time.  For me, though, I would have loved to get back the body that I had pre-kids.  I really had no idea that it would be such a drastically different body.  In so many ways, it is a entirely new ball game.  And surprise endings are par for the course. 

One thought at a time. Step by Step.

It's funny how sometimes one life experience correlates to another in a really profound way.  My weight loss has amazing correlations to my struggle with self-esteem.  

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I've struggled since the fifth grade with intense self-esteem issues regarding how I look.  I remember that during middle school, I would literally cringe if I caught my reflection in the mirror.  That is how badly I felt about myself.  That's how ugly I thought I was.  

I went through a whole lot of mental anguish and torment for years and years.  I dealt with a great deal of foolishness from men because of how badly I felt I looked.  I spent lots of time thinking I had to settle because most likely, that was the best I could do.  I really believed that the world valued beauty much more than intelligence and so I was out of luck, despite how bright I might have been.  I classified myself as an ugly person and going through life, I also categorized other people.  I empathized with other "ugly" people and felt really low around "beautiful" people.  Being dark-skinned didn't help my cause at all.  Growing up, pretty usually meant being "fair" skinned with cooperative hair.  I didn't fit the bill.

Anyway, long story short, I'm in a place now where I can look in the mirror with ease and I like what I see.  Sure, there are times when parts of my body irritate me (like my post-pregnancy belly) but overall, I'm happy and satisfied with who I am and what I look like.  I wouldn't change anything.  Ten years ago, I had a whole list of things that I would love to be different.  

I think to myself that getting to this place where I'm reasonably comfortable with myself was a real process, a journey.  Sometimes I think folks who haven't struggled with these intense mental issues surrounding their look have a hard time understanding how paralyzing and difficult it can be to deal with those issues and also how daunting it can be to recover.  They often offer up simplistic explanations that boil down to "Think positively."  

For me, it's been helpful to devise small techniques to train my mind to think differently and to encourage myself when I feel down about myself.  My Buddhist practice has been tremendous in helping me to get here because finally, I realize down to the bottom of my soul that my worth doesn't have much to do with how I look.  To the contrary, I am inherently valuable.  I don't know what it is about the way Buddhism teaches this that resonated with me but it did and I got it.  This doesn't mean that I don't have to meditate on this truth consistently.  I really do.  Accepting my inherent value has also helped me do something that I had heard forever: stop comparing myself to others.  Instead, when I feel like I'm about to get super critical of myself in light of how someone else looks, I just observe the person's style and think about ways that I could maybe do something like that.  Negative thoughts are never far but doing this helps redirect my attention and I'm able to stifle those thoughts that would tear me down.  I also started to avoid certain publications, websites and books and surrounded myself with books like Meditations to Heal Your Life.  I read these kinds of books so much that they played like tapes in my head.  I got to the very root of my self-esteem issues and in so doing, was better able to heal myself. 

There are many other little things, baby steps, I've taken to move myself along on this journey to total self-acceptance.  I'm still on the road and I love it when I'm able to add other tools to my toolbox.

It's kind of like weight loss in that way.  It's difficult to fathom dropping 30 or 40 pounds.  But if you take it one pound at a time, one meal at a time, one bite at a time, the daunting becomes so possible.  

When I first decided I didn't want to feel so badly about myself any more, I was totally overwhelmed.  "Just love yourself!" "Just know that you are beautiful!" "How!?!" I would ask desperately.  But it's the same as weight loss. One thought at a time.  Step by step.  

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That little voice: intuition or unconscious reasoning?

I read an article in the July 2010 issue of Oprah Magazine called The Power of Eureka.  

I honestly believe that we know the answers to every complex question we are faced with and that deep down, we always know what to do next.  At times, we may be confused about the answers or the next step, but if we give ourselves a chance to be still, the answer will bubble to the surface in the form of a little voice.  After years of trying to hear the voice of God, I realize that for me, it's that little voice that I was searching for.  And that little voice it is nothing more than our own intuition.  Now some may say that when you get to that place where you can hear that little voice, you know that you and God are connected.  I tend to think that it is a certain intelligence that the Creator/Creative Force hard-wired into us when creating us.  

So this article intrigued me because it posits that:

While intuition may seem to arise from some mysterious inner source, it's actually a form of unconscious reasoning--one that's rooted in the way our brains collect and store information. 

It amazing to me that sometimes folks won't acknowledge "the mysterious" when "the mysterious" happens every day.  We don't know how the Earth stays on it's axis and night becomes day.  There's so many examples of "the mysterious" happening all around, things that we don't really have an explanation for that we accept and even embrace.  Who sits around agonizing about whether the sun will rise tomorrow?

In a similar vein, I think sometimes we know certain things without ever having experienced them and without being able to explain how we know it.  So it's not quite so accurate to reduce all our intuitive power to simple unconscious reasoning.  Sometimes, you just know.  And the more you pay attention to your intuition, I think, the more effectively your brain (the thinking part of you) is able to size up situations and make instant decisions that are right in line with your intuition.  In other words, your thinking self and your spiritual become more and more unified.  

The article says that "your intuition may not always steer you right" but I disagree.  I believe that you can't go wrong listening to your gut but here's my disclaimer: your heart and mind must be in the right place.  And I think that happens by cultivating a consistent time to go into yourself, be still, and figure out how to hear that little voice even when there's whole bunch of noise and nonsense going.  Some call it meditation but if you don't want to give it a haughty name, call it quiet time. 

In giving advice, the article says, "your intuition may be based on something superficial".  To me, that's so untrue.  Intuition, I think, is what grounds and connects us.  Something that powerful could never be superficial.  

And from my own personal experience, my head has lead me wrong a number of times.  My gut?  If I can hear it and if I choose to listen, had never done such a thing.  I'll trust my gut, thank you very much!

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Profound to me.

While practicing yoga outside yesterday morning, I was in trikonasana (triangle pose where the body forms many different triangles) and noticed three birds flying high in the sky. I thought to myself how wonderful it would be to just get up and fly.  It made me think back to when I was reading Anne Lamott's book Traveling Mercies and I realized that while I wouldn't want to sky dive, I would like to go paragliding.  

Later on at Z1's tennis class, I began to read Lift by Kelly Corrigan.  This book actually caused me a lot of angst because I first read about it in some random magazine I was reading while Z1 was participating in a library program.  I couldn't remember the title nor the author--only the way it looked and that it was a non-fictional book that I *knew* I would enjoy because I usually enjoy those kinds of books.  I spent almost an hour searching the web with not much to go on until finally . . . I found it.  Don't ask me how.  

Anyway, I opened the book and it starts off: "All things want to fly." 

On Monday at the children's library I found a wonderful treasure of a book:  The Wonderful Happens by Cynthia Rylant.  

[quote]From Publishers Weekly

Like the lyrics to The Sound of Music's "My Favorite Things," Rylant's picture-book list of what is wonderful in the world includes both raindrops and roses. The sweet, rhythmic text is both cheery and unabashedly sentimental. It begins with basic bread: "In a little kitchen/ someone butters bread,/ wonderful bread./ the earth grew wheat,/ the wheat made flour,/ and the wonderful happened:/ bread." Rylant sets up a premise that conveys nature's cause and effect: bread comes from flour, birds from eggs, roses from seeds. Dowley frames her illustrations with homey, quiltlike borders in simple flowered or geometric patterns. Branches of a peach tree teem with bees, a butterfly and a clone of the bright bluebird seen in Disney's Cinderella. Then abruptly, in the middle of a full-bleed spread of a blue sky dotted with a single yellow star, the text asks, "Did you know/ there was a time/ when you weren't anywhere?" Setting aside how puzzling this question might be to a child and that her answer goes against the simple logic of the first three-quarters of the book, Rylant suggests that children just happen ("you happened/ like bread, like a bird, like rain,/.../ the wonderful happened,/ the wonderful is you/ growing like a red red rose." Unfortunately, despite its feel-good appeal and images, the book lacks a coherent vision. All ages. (Nov.)
Copyright 2000 Reed Business Information, Inc. --This text refers to the Hardcover edition. [/quote]

I agree with the summary of the book to a tee but I still found it beautiful because I think in a lot of ways, it mirrors the way we think . . . things don't always seem to have a clear connection.  Like bread doesn't connect to a bird which doesn't connect to my children.  At least not apparently.  But they are all connected.  

 

It's all connected.  And that is profound to me.  

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At the Altar . . .

So little by little, I've been adding things to my altar to beautify it.  I figure if I'm going to sit there for a time, it should be some place that's beautiful.  

So, it's nice now.  I can't say it's really all tied in, i.e. has a theme, but I like it.  I feel comfortable there.  I purchased the "fruit" today.  It's artificial but it's massively hot right now and real fruit was ripening too quickly.  The bowl was one we've had around for a while that really had no use so I'm happy it's got one now.  Everything else (including my fabulous ottoman) was purchased at the thrift store (including my butsudan).  So all the pieces caught my eye in some way. 

I wish I could spend more time at my altar but there are lots of distractions in my life right now.  Sometimes I feel like if I did spent more time there, I would be more centered and have a bit more clarity about what would make me happy, content and fulfilled and what it is I should really be doing with my life.  Maybe.  Maybe  not. 

Housework and Philosophophizing

I usually clean the bathroom on Mondays (despite numerous attempts at spot cleaning, it seems like I genuinely need to bust the bathroom down at least once a week).  Our bathroom has all the original parts that were installed when the house was built: original tile (wall and floor), bath, toilet, sink and fixtures.  We've added some things to it and gotten rid of other things but overall, the bathroom is fundamentally unchanged.  And it looks every bit of its 70 years!  Our bathroom is extremely functional.  Everything works the way it's supposed to.  It's been through the bitterest of winters and the most extreme summer heat and it's still working.  But there are signs.  Cracks. Crevices. Some tiles have fallen out.  We've tried to re-grout and all that but really, the bathroom just needs to redone.  (Hopefully, next year will be the year.  It would have been this year but after a terrible storm, the water just started pouring into the house which meant the roof took precedence.)

Anyway,  this morning I saw the before and after pictures of a woman (with kids) who had completed P90X (we're on the same message board).  Amazing.  Yesterday, I was doing Chalean Extreme and Chalean pointed to a woman who has 7 kids.  Like physically birthed 7 kids.  Amazing.  I mean, there are *no signs* that these women have had children. 

It got me down.  I mean, I'm thrilled these women look so great but I have to say, it throws me for a loop emotionally.  I look at my toned legs and toned arms and back and the work I've put in is evident.  I look at my midsection and . . . it doesn't look like I've done much at all.  I can see and feel the muscle in my midsection but covering all that muscle is a layer of seriously sagging skin that as far as I can see will never snap back.  And it doesn't look good.  

So I get sad sometimes.  I feel like my bathroom!  Yes, I am fully functional and can do all these wonderful and necessary things but this part of me just doesn't look good and, most likely, no amount of cardio or strength-training is going to make it look better.  It could be genetics.  It could be that I wasn't eating optimally during pregnancy.    I wish I could say that it's probably better than I think but I've worked up the courage to show two (non-hubby) people and they both said, "Well, you could have surgery."  But in my gut I know I won't ever do that.  I don't have anything against cosmetic surgery but I couldn't see myself voluntarily signing up for it (at least that's how I feel right now--it may change).  So it's something I realize that I will have to accept.  And I am.  Slowly.  But every so often, I can't help feeling bad about it. I can't help feeling grossed out when I am doing push-ups, planks, or cat/cow pose and I look down to see the skin just kind of swinging around.  Actually, it's kind of funny and ridiculous and I have learned not to look down. 

When I'm scrubbing the bathroom, I sometimes think how pointless it is: no matter how much I scrub, no matter how much elbow grease, time and effort I put in, things will never gleam or sparkle.  But I keep scrubbing because even if it doesn't look sparkly and new, it will be clean.  I suppose that's my philosophy when it comes to fitness too:  even if it doesn't look super tight and pulled together, it will be strong.  It's the only thing that keeps me going on those difficult days. 

And there you have it: you can indeed come up with profound life philosophies while doing housework!

Picture credit

What kind of God would . . .

I used to think about this all the time while growing up especially when reading the Old Testament. I was reminded of that today.  I'm reading Traveling Mercies by Anne Lamott and in it she writes about the story of when God asks Abraham to sacrifice his only son Isaac.  

The story filled me with terror as a child.  I knew my parents would do *anything* they believed God was telling them to do because that is how seriously they took their faith.  I knew that given the same injunction by God, they would (potentially) carry it out.  To the end if that's what God told them to do.  To them, Abraham was a hero.  To me, he was a callous, unloving ass. 

The story still makes me uncomfortable especially now that I'm a mother.  I would have to risk eternal damnation before I sacrifice any of my children for any reason.  Now, I realize that some cultures and religions teach that this kind of sacrifice is sometimes necessary but who, pray tell, do my children trust more than me?  I couldn't do it under any circumstances.  I just wouldn't be able to go that distance to prove my loyalty to anyone.  Much less to a God unseen.   I have never been able to make peace with the story even though countless pastors have tried to smooth it over because in the end God did provide a lamb.  But can you image the seer terror of Isaac?  Do you think he would ever be willing to unequivocally trust his father ever again?  Who cares so long as God was pleased, I guess.  

And it always bothered me immensely:  God is supposed to be omniscient . . . why does someone who knows everything need to put his disciples through such tests.  Shouldn't God just know that they are 100% devoted to him?  Other pastors have tried to say that it was for the good of the disciples, good for strenghtening their relationship with God . . . yeah, not buying that argument either. 

There are many examples in the Old Testament that made me uneasy.  The only books I could really stand to read were Psalms and the Proverbs.  I was just always so grateful for the compassion and love the New Testament brought. 

Photo Credit: Abraham and Isaac, 17th Century

What do you want your life to look like?

While having a conversation with my good friend the other day, I realized that I didn't have a solid, clear concept of what I want my life to look like (let's call it my Lifeview).  I have ideas of what I'd like to see going on in my life but I've never taken the time to write anything down or really think about it in depth.  And it's funny because it seems fairly obvious that this is something I should have done.  But honestly, after I gave up my childhood idea of going to an Ivy League school, becoming a doctor (after graduating at the top of my class), getting married to someone equally as successful, buying a large house in the 'burbs, driving my Volvo, and having four kids (two boys and two girls).  My priorities and worldview have changed so drastically since then but I never amended my Lifeview.  Well, now is an excellent time to do it.  I'm 28, a stay-at-home mom with two young children, and an aspiring writer.  Sometimes it feels like I'm just going through the motions instead of working toward a tangible goal.  In terms of my personal happiness, even though I'm still not ready to start my own happiness project, I think outlining my Lifeview would be a big step towards maintaining and expanding my happiness.  I could identify small steps I could take to make my Lifeview my actual life.  My same friend who I was talking to had a beautiful outline that she drew up some time ago and I thought vaguely that I should do something like that.  Now I know I need to be a little more disciplined and get it done. Often when I feel discontented, I get the sense that it's because my real life is not matching up to the life I want.  So I need to get it really clear in my mind:  what is the life I want?  I know that one's Lifeview is something that evolves and changes over time and it should as one matures and develops.  If nothing else, capturing my current Lifeview in some way, shape or form could serve as a concrete way of tracking my personal growth. 

Photo Credit: http://windowsofhopecounseling.org/

Prioritizing Priorities

You know that stress that's not upfront and center?  The kind that's just kind of always humming in the background no matter what you're doing?   There's the obvious stresses that go along with taking care of two kids and a husband and myself and financial stresses.   I don't want to minimize that . But there's this other, more insidious kind of stress that saps whatever little energy I have left after everything is done.  This stress is kind of sneaky and you really have to focus on it if you want to alleviate it.

 

The most apparent background stress that was getting to me was Z1's homeschooling.  I felt like I wasn't getting enough done with him daily.  At least not as much as I felt he should be doing.  So I posed the question to a homeschooling board I'm on and from the responses, I realized that I had not been prioritizing his homseschooling.  Now, I knew it was pretty important to me but I had to ask myself what was more important.  The question was promptly answered:  getting the boys out to activities, playdates, and the like.  They're young and Z1 is still pre-school age so technically there was nothing wrong with that but I had two conflicting things going on.  I wanted to get school work done but I also wanted them to have a lot of play and be around other kids.  Something had to give.  I had to relax on something.  I decided to relax on the schooling.  It is still a priority to me but I've realized that I have to prioritize my priorities.  Perhaps in a few more months I can come back and re-evaluate.  I most likely will do that the closer he gets towards first grade.  But I still had the stress of feeling like I was not doing enough with him humming in the background so I committed to doing something academic with him daily either before or after mealtimes as I'm able.  It doesn't have to be grand.  It can be simple.  A review.  Anything.  I've been doing it for a week or so now and so far, so good.

I thought about the other humming stresses in my life.  Waking up at the crack of dawn to journal and chant and exercise.  I realized, being the driven person that I am, that I had been background stressing myself to increase the length of time I chanted.  Going to Buddhist meetings and stuff, you hear folks talking about how they chant for 20, 30, 40 or even 60 minutes.  Not to be outdone, I was giving it my all.  But I was burning out--dragging myself out of bed, distracted while chanting anyway.  So I decided to prioritize my priorities when it comes to my morning "me time".  Right now, fitness is extremely important to me.  Chanting and journaling is too but to a lesser extent.  Perhaps in a few months, that might change.  So I committed to going back to my 5, 5, 5.  Journal for 5 minutes.  Read for 5 minutes.  Chant for 5 minutes.  Fifteen minutes altogether which leaves me ample time to get my long ass P90x + cardio that I have to add in on top of all that workout in.  I don't have to put on two episodes of Blues Clues to get through my workout (and deal with the accompanying stress and guilt of my boys watching too much TV) and I don't have to throw my whole morning schedule off trying to fit it all in.  This helps me tremendously as I then have time to do some school work with Z1 in a more relaxed way.  I've been doing that for a few days now and so far so good.  

Another humming stress is keeping the house clean.  I have this schedule that I try to keep but it is often impossible to keep.  The failure to keep up with the schedule hums loudly in the background.  I had to prioritize my priorities again.  It is a priority of mine to keep the house neat.  It helps me function better physically and mentally.  But getting meals together and doing laundry seems to be a higher priority right now.  As long as things are not gross (I've developed the habit of spot cleaning more than full-out, top-to-bottom cleaning), I have to deal with some untidiness.  Perhaps in a few months years, that might change but I've been doing it this way for a week or so now and so far so good.

So I've identified here three humming stresses that have been weighing me down.  There are others like wanting to write more consistently and get published, doing more with my blog, reading more, knitting and crocheting more.  Basically these are all the things I want or need to do that vie for the limited time I have.  And I figured out the key to alleviating those stresses was to organize them in terms of what is most important to me at this moment: prioritizing my priorities.  It goes without saying that you have to take a long hard look at what takes up most of the time in your day.  These are priorities whether you want to believe it or not and you have to decide if you actually want those things to be priorities.  For example, I used to spend a good clip of time reading blogs and being on message boards.  I really enjoy that.  But the time it was eating was just too much.  It was an unwanted, unconscious priority (not that I didn't want to be doing it but I didn't want it as a priority).     But at this point, I'd rather other things be priorities.  So in the interest of not depriving myself, I have maybe four or five favorite blogs (shout out Keep It Trill and BlackGirlinMaine) that I always take ten minutes or so to check and I have a whole host of posts starred. I hate to go to my reader and see that folks have updated their blogs 10 times already but I had to let it fall to the wayside a bit--at least until the dynamics in my life change.  I rarely post or read message boards except the ones I moderate. 

I accept that I don't have unlimited time or energy.  It is what it is, really.  As the kids get older and can help out more, it'll free up more time.  Then I hope to be able to fit more in so that my life looks more like what I'd want it to look like ideally. 

Picture Credit:  http://www.marvinhimel.com/blog/tag/priorities/

Give thanks!

Amongst RastafarI people, often times you can hear the phrase "give thanks".  Ones and ones will say "give thanks" instead of "thank you" when someone does something for them.  When I started trodding RastafarI, this was one part of the RastafarI vernacular (aka I-Speak) I adopted first.  I love the significance of it.

The term I&I represents so much:  the union of human to human and the union of all humans to the Highest I (Jah).  Wrapped up in "I&I" is an acknowledgement of that deep mystery of our interconnectedness but also our strive to be wholly united with the Divine.   Saying "give thanks" harps back to that.  When someone says "Give thanks" he or she is not only thanking you for your good deed but thanking the God in you and thanking the Highest I.  He/she is also giving you a command, reminding you to give thanks even as he/she is giving you thanks.  Wrapped up in those two words is a profound offering of gratitude and a beautiful expression of humility and a call to worship.  

So to all you beautiful souls who read my blog, GIVE THANKS!

Photo Credit:  Homespun with Heart by Danielle Flanders