Thursday, March 12, 2015

3.12.15 Be Kind; Unwind













So many times it doesn't seem alright.
it's either something inside of us, communicating discomfort with
a decision we made, something we experienced that simply didn't fit well,
or something in our lives, pending, that has set us ill at ease.
Sitting out and letting the day pass from way inside of us, 
past our awareness of- oh yes, I see that one. And yeah, there it goes, on by
is a dynamic that enables small or large significant moments to be digested.
So that as we settle down into the ending of our day, as we begin to approach the landing for sleep, they don't rise on up, into our awareness. At that vulnerable open time, the time we least want to be aware of them.
The impulse to intentionally make room for stuff to come up seems so antithetical, til you get that it's that, or the nighty-night time of disruption.
Sometimes, anxiety from  unsettled experiences, no matter whether WE deem them unsettled or not, causes us to be activated while falling asleep. 
Pop up into wakefulness in the middle of the night.
Wake right up, too early, when still our bodies need to recharge, because the physical nervous system simply can't tolerate the activation.
Which is why we say to ourselves "Oh, alright!" And go ahead and be proactive.
Decide we really want something nice to happen when we settle in for the night.
When we turn off the light and are heading toward deep rejuvenative slumber.
That's the reason we get it together, to make the choice.
It's not necessarily "Oh great. Yeah. Let's look at all the upsetting moments I had today that are going to kick my butt at bedtime if I don't."
Or actually, maybe it is.
We teach this to our children. The unwinding of stuff that happened today.
We write it in a journal or online diary, just to unload it. To be kind to ourselves.
Be kind; unwind.
We call up a friend or sit with a beloved or stop by the home of an acquaintance, or meet up with a coworker, and the fine art of casual or more intentional exchange can happen.
We here call it "Five Minutes". We say "Hey, do you want to do five minutes?"
It's the coolest way to check in, without feeling like  you need to say anything or fix any thing or remember anything.
They talk about carburetors or the stupid neighbor or something they saw or something nice, for five minutes,and you watch them and listen.
Then you have your turn.
You don't talk about stuff that is really hard for either of you, like disagreements with each other or triggery things. 
And when it's done, it's done, and you go on and do other stuff.
But you both have checked in, gotten to express stuff to someone listening, and the stuff of life that can disrupt you at bedtime is acknowledged a bit.
When my kids were young, or even teenagers, at bedtime I would ask them if they wanted to do Worst and Best.
The worst stupidest lousiest thing that happened today, and the best. It was manageable. They could wrap their mind around it. And it let go some of the things that happened in their day, on their way to sleep.
Pretty soon, when you do Five Minutes or sit out and let things pass by, like a cloud rising up out of a pond, and streaming off into the sunset, it gets easier, right?
And then, instead of being a strange odd thing to walk up to a bunch of lousy thoughts and experiences and upsetting things, willingly, to submit yourself to, it becomes a kind wise thing. That enables you to settle into your evening, knowing that for the most part, the tough stuff got listened to. Is not stuck in some branches, waiting for the wind to whip them free and descend upon you as you drift off.
Like taking out the garbage, and not letting it build up. 
Like protecting ourselves from constipation, so we can daily rid our bodies of waste.
So yeah, don't forget.
Be kind to yourself. Unwind.

3.12.15 Outside, the forest is filled with the roar of the wind



March. In like a lion; out like a lamb.

Outside, the forest is filled with the roar of the wind.
Trees swaying, Hawks chirruping at each other,
doves in conjugal pairs up high in the branches of the old Maples,

as they all watch the day sweep into town.








3.12.15 The Song of YourForebearers


Rufus Wainwright singing his mother and aunt's song, with Dido. 

Kate and Anna McGarrigle; remarkable lives. So understated. 

And to sing a song about the experiences of your fore bearers.


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JkgTdrJmro0

Wednesday, March 11, 2015

3.11.15 Here, it is 48 degrees. No Coat. Grass visible. Fat awake chipmunks.


     Spring arriving is so like a neighborhood after a rough summer’s storm, everyone coming outside to check on homes, each other.

     Here, it is 48 degrees. The first day of no coat, of seeing grass and soil. Of a chipmunk awake, rather nicely round, perched on a Mountain Laurel, basking in the sun as they clean their fur. Of the adolescent Broadwing hawk, who managed their first hard winter, and flew off from a nearby tree when I came outside to just stand, face in the warm sun.
     
     Last night, the land was cold and the air warm, so all about us, in the darkness, swirled a mist that remains today, roiling down the  ice and snow covered river.

      Today the shepherd sits outside in the bright march sunlight, eating snow, watching and listening, contentedly at home.

     And outside, we encounter one sign of encroaching spring, after another.

     Of buds and some visible perennials and birds really going quite nutso, with their wooing and mating.  Of tenants leaving and arriving. Birch catkins shining in the morning sun. Almost time to pack up scarves and boots and hats and gloves , though we should not be too hasty. Once when my daughter was young, she had her May birthday. It snowed. She cried. Nothing would console her. Ah, New England.
     Full daylight, with the half moon sky. A reprieve, the spring is, in the lands of seasons.  










3.11.15 Heels and Wounds



8
I do. Love how time heals all wounds and wounds all heels.

3.11.15 We Slowly Learn To Keep On Saying Yes



Quite often, we spend some early years zoom zooming about. Aspiring to so much. Interested and curious about so much. Perhaps wanting to accomplish so much. If we have offspring, wanting to provide so very much, for a rich stable foundation.

Just as often, we get taken out at the knees. Surprise.
And then we see what is possible.

Things change; they change again.
We slowly learn to keep on saying yes.