The plight of an open heart is that everyone can see it. Like a moth to the flame, lonesome wanderers stumbling through the dark will be drawn to you. Be ready.
The plight of an open heart is that everyone will want it. They will feed off of you and never be able to replenish what you are willing to give. Be ready.
The plight of an open heart is that it desires to give. And you will have a hard time stopping. Be ready.
The plight of an open heart is that you stand to gain everything. But you have to lose it all first.
I sound like Chicken Soup for the Soul and it makes me want to vomit. And then vomit again because I actually mean all of it.
Thursday, May 3, 2012
Sunday, April 29, 2012
In the Company of Sorrow
I know a lot of people who have been having a rough time lately. I've got a couple things to share that I hope might help you. One of the things the yogic teachings ask of us is to learn how to "be with what is." I think that this presents a very interesting idea: namely, that you are not defined by the experience you are having.
You are not an emotion. You are not a thought. You are not a hand or a foot or a movement or a desire. You are always more than all of these things combined.
In the experience of being alive we can sometimes feel like we are drowning in circumstance; like we are submerged in the sea of emotion, or maybe clutching to an ideal that keeps us stuck. When this happens, can we remember:
You cannot be happy. You cannot be sad. Because you are always more than. Let's instead think of being in the company of joy. Or in the company of sorrow. But it will never define you. Because you are bigger than anything that can happen to you or around you. When we think of being in the company of experience we can see the space between ourselves and events, between ourselves and intensity, between ourselves and success, between ourselves and loss.
We get to have the experiences, not the other way around. Because we are infinite, and long outlive the brief moments of any event.
-----------------
I am in the company of sorrow, whose presence is affecting and strong. I try to be good company. I listen to it, I give it the chance to express itself, I offer it my point of view when it asks, and even allow it to try and engulf me when it gets petty and stubborn. Because I am burning a ferocious and punishing love that won't be ignored. So I will be with it. I will let it rage all it wants until it exhausts itself and dies, leaving whatever wreckage and scars it wants. Because none of it will define me. I am always more.
My heart is not broken. It works very well.
You are not an emotion. You are not a thought. You are not a hand or a foot or a movement or a desire. You are always more than all of these things combined.
In the experience of being alive we can sometimes feel like we are drowning in circumstance; like we are submerged in the sea of emotion, or maybe clutching to an ideal that keeps us stuck. When this happens, can we remember:
You cannot be happy. You cannot be sad. Because you are always more than. Let's instead think of being in the company of joy. Or in the company of sorrow. But it will never define you. Because you are bigger than anything that can happen to you or around you. When we think of being in the company of experience we can see the space between ourselves and events, between ourselves and intensity, between ourselves and success, between ourselves and loss.
We get to have the experiences, not the other way around. Because we are infinite, and long outlive the brief moments of any event.
-----------------
I am in the company of sorrow, whose presence is affecting and strong. I try to be good company. I listen to it, I give it the chance to express itself, I offer it my point of view when it asks, and even allow it to try and engulf me when it gets petty and stubborn. Because I am burning a ferocious and punishing love that won't be ignored. So I will be with it. I will let it rage all it wants until it exhausts itself and dies, leaving whatever wreckage and scars it wants. Because none of it will define me. I am always more.
My heart is not broken. It works very well.
Monday, November 22, 2010
Footprints of Angels
In his book The Inner Tradition of Yoga, Michael Stone discusses how yoga is the tool by which we are attempting to find equilibrium in our imbalanced selves while existing in a world inherently out of balance. Since starting my yoga teacher training I have certainly begun to find more balance, but I have not been so focused on the whole "world out of balance" part. I continue on my quest to develop my most balanced self, but I am reminded today to remember the rest of the framework in which I live. I have been studying dutifully how to expand the universe of me, but I now have to ask myself "In relation to what?"
Today the imbalance of the world was demonstrated by the hundreds of people who died in a stampede in Cambodia. I cannot think of a more gruesome and eye-opening example of the destructive capabilities of mankind. Hundreds of people were trampled to death by the feet of neighbors and peers. Feet that once danced, feet that dug themselves into wet sand, feet that tiptoed past the doors of sleeping children took lives with manic and thoughtless steps. We have spent centuries evolving our war weapons, but all of it is completely unnecessary; we do not require any tools beyond our own limbs.
Nobody knows what started the stampede.
--------------
So, to this context of consciousness called 'life': I see you, and recognize you, and thank you for everything you are. As you continue to expand and change, so will I. I can leave the footprints, but I can't create the soil - I need you for that.
Today the imbalance of the world was demonstrated by the hundreds of people who died in a stampede in Cambodia. I cannot think of a more gruesome and eye-opening example of the destructive capabilities of mankind. Hundreds of people were trampled to death by the feet of neighbors and peers. Feet that once danced, feet that dug themselves into wet sand, feet that tiptoed past the doors of sleeping children took lives with manic and thoughtless steps. We have spent centuries evolving our war weapons, but all of it is completely unnecessary; we do not require any tools beyond our own limbs.
Nobody knows what started the stampede.
--------------
So, to this context of consciousness called 'life': I see you, and recognize you, and thank you for everything you are. As you continue to expand and change, so will I. I can leave the footprints, but I can't create the soil - I need you for that.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
If you judge, investigate.
Far Away.
I have said it before: if we abolish the idea that such a place exists, we could end war, inequality, and hatred. But the story which makes me revisit this theory has little to do with physical place. What if this also applies to the quality of our minds?
In this article the lamentable stories are told of mentally ill Chinese citizens and the victims of their violent crimes. Many of the cases are those of untreated or ignored schizophrenia resulting in violent acts against children and the elderly. In the case of Yang Jiaqin, he has received only one month of treatment in the past five years despite obvious signs of schizophrenia. It should not have been surprising when he took a butcher knife and roamed around his home village slashing anyone he came across, including a group of children coming home from school and an elderly couple chopping wood.
It is so easy to make space between ourselves and these instances. In fact, it is our instinct to do so in order that we be able to continue on our way without being damaged. If we absorbed every terrible thing we came across we would all suffer from severe and constant heartbreak. In order to even survive reading articles like this, we must create a little air between ourselves and traumatic events described. However, if we carry this to excess then we enter the realm of judgment and the assumption that such things could never happen to us. So is this the key to curing the mind of judgment?
Winston Churchill said "I like pigs. Dogs look up to us. Cats look down on us. Pigs treat us as equals." If we embrace our inner swine, then it will never have to prove to us that it exists. Accepting that insanity, misbehavior, and ignorance are right around the corner levels the playing field between ourselves and the recipients of our scrutiny.
Haha, I feel like I go through all this work to arrive at very obvious conclusions. I suppose that's part of the reality of definitions existing before words.
I have said it before: if we abolish the idea that such a place exists, we could end war, inequality, and hatred. But the story which makes me revisit this theory has little to do with physical place. What if this also applies to the quality of our minds?
In this article the lamentable stories are told of mentally ill Chinese citizens and the victims of their violent crimes. Many of the cases are those of untreated or ignored schizophrenia resulting in violent acts against children and the elderly. In the case of Yang Jiaqin, he has received only one month of treatment in the past five years despite obvious signs of schizophrenia. It should not have been surprising when he took a butcher knife and roamed around his home village slashing anyone he came across, including a group of children coming home from school and an elderly couple chopping wood.
It is so easy to make space between ourselves and these instances. In fact, it is our instinct to do so in order that we be able to continue on our way without being damaged. If we absorbed every terrible thing we came across we would all suffer from severe and constant heartbreak. In order to even survive reading articles like this, we must create a little air between ourselves and traumatic events described. However, if we carry this to excess then we enter the realm of judgment and the assumption that such things could never happen to us. So is this the key to curing the mind of judgment?
Winston Churchill said "I like pigs. Dogs look up to us. Cats look down on us. Pigs treat us as equals." If we embrace our inner swine, then it will never have to prove to us that it exists. Accepting that insanity, misbehavior, and ignorance are right around the corner levels the playing field between ourselves and the recipients of our scrutiny.
Haha, I feel like I go through all this work to arrive at very obvious conclusions. I suppose that's part of the reality of definitions existing before words.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Autumn Makes Me Sing
"Change is a measure of time and, in the autumn, time seems speeded up. What was is not, and never again will be; what is is change." -Edwin Way Teale
Autumn has always felt very enchanting to me. I die for all things pumpkin flavored, I love deep saturated colors like maroon and teal, and I never met a scarf I didn't like. As a child I loved taking walks with my mother and picking up acorns (I picked up 100 of them for a project in kindergarten) and big fallen leaves, though few of them actually change color in my hometown of Houston. The sun always seems to multiply in size and adopt a slightly more orange hue, as if to mirror the jack-o-lanterns grimacing on our stoops. And let's not forget the harvest moon, who knowingly glows over the winds of change and falling leaves. She makes her life out of change and she gently attempts to shed light for we who do not accept transition quite as gracefully.
Perhaps it is the new chill in the air, maybe it is the dichotomy of our surfeited pantries against the barren tree limbs, or it could be the ominous threat of the inevitable winter, but there is something uniquely nostalgic and tender about this season. We are faced with having to simultaneously accept ends and beginnings, whether or not we are ready.
How befitting that this is the season in which we celebrate Halloween! It makes perfect sense that this would be the season during which we would fear the return of dead spirits. Whether or not you believe in the afterlife, I'll bet you experience the ghosts of your memories in the fall. I find it both intriguing and wonderful that we come to terms with the heartache of change by adopting a new identity altogether. Theatre comes from ancient rituals that involve the worshipers becoming possessed by the spirits around them. Anyone who has been alone in an empty theatre knows how haunted it feels - the spirits of all the characters who have ever lived in that space are still there, waiting to be realized once again through the body of a performer. Ask your actor friends, and if they are anything like me then they will tell you that characters stay with them for a while after a show has closed. The autumn is like this on a larger scale. We are changing, like it or not, with the leaves and the winds and the earth - for better or worse is always yet to be seen.
Now all I want to do is watch Chocolat.
Autumn has always felt very enchanting to me. I die for all things pumpkin flavored, I love deep saturated colors like maroon and teal, and I never met a scarf I didn't like. As a child I loved taking walks with my mother and picking up acorns (I picked up 100 of them for a project in kindergarten) and big fallen leaves, though few of them actually change color in my hometown of Houston. The sun always seems to multiply in size and adopt a slightly more orange hue, as if to mirror the jack-o-lanterns grimacing on our stoops. And let's not forget the harvest moon, who knowingly glows over the winds of change and falling leaves. She makes her life out of change and she gently attempts to shed light for we who do not accept transition quite as gracefully.
Perhaps it is the new chill in the air, maybe it is the dichotomy of our surfeited pantries against the barren tree limbs, or it could be the ominous threat of the inevitable winter, but there is something uniquely nostalgic and tender about this season. We are faced with having to simultaneously accept ends and beginnings, whether or not we are ready.
How befitting that this is the season in which we celebrate Halloween! It makes perfect sense that this would be the season during which we would fear the return of dead spirits. Whether or not you believe in the afterlife, I'll bet you experience the ghosts of your memories in the fall. I find it both intriguing and wonderful that we come to terms with the heartache of change by adopting a new identity altogether. Theatre comes from ancient rituals that involve the worshipers becoming possessed by the spirits around them. Anyone who has been alone in an empty theatre knows how haunted it feels - the spirits of all the characters who have ever lived in that space are still there, waiting to be realized once again through the body of a performer. Ask your actor friends, and if they are anything like me then they will tell you that characters stay with them for a while after a show has closed. The autumn is like this on a larger scale. We are changing, like it or not, with the leaves and the winds and the earth - for better or worse is always yet to be seen.
Now all I want to do is watch Chocolat.
Monday, October 25, 2010
"Gold's father is dirt, yet it regards itself as noble."
So all my horoscopes lately keep talking about words and how now is a good time for me to amp up my verbal communications. The only thing is....I have to have something to say first!
In my yoga teacher training one of our teachers has a habit of asking us questions like "Is yoga a technique or a skill?" or "Are we becoming stronger or more powerful?" The first day we had him I felt intimidated by him, and jarred by the starkness of his questions and his penetrating stare which would relent only after one of us choked out an answer (which usually sounded more like a question). However, after four classes in a row with him I have become very fond of this pedagogical approach. Why? Because it forces us to put words to the ideas we felt we were drowning in. Also, because we felt lost, we were then able to feel found. This makes sense coming from a man who constantly discusses the idea of a "Language of Opposites." It also made me trust him because he led us somewhere very specific and concrete after what seemed like an eternity of trick questions and abstract concepts.
So that's an interesting way to live, no? And what an amazing amount of faith it takes! To be comfortable being lost, believing that one day you will arrive at a clearing in the woods, to have complete credence that someone is leading you, despite your ignorance as to where. Of course this cannot be the only principle by which one lives if they hope to accomplish certain goals, but in the times when I feel like I'm metaphorically running in circles while wearing heels and tripping over road blocks after I've already run the wrong way into a dangerous neighborhood in the middle of the night without my cellphone or any money....it's nice to think there's a pot of gold waiting somewhere (PS - I've noticed the pots of gold rarely tend to wait on the other side of something as lovely as a rainbow, but more like on the other side of a tight rope suspended over a pit of angry alligators).
My acting mentor often says "Invite disaster!" I'm not sure it needs an invitation, but like a good hostess, I will always be ready to entertain it.
In my yoga teacher training one of our teachers has a habit of asking us questions like "Is yoga a technique or a skill?" or "Are we becoming stronger or more powerful?" The first day we had him I felt intimidated by him, and jarred by the starkness of his questions and his penetrating stare which would relent only after one of us choked out an answer (which usually sounded more like a question). However, after four classes in a row with him I have become very fond of this pedagogical approach. Why? Because it forces us to put words to the ideas we felt we were drowning in. Also, because we felt lost, we were then able to feel found. This makes sense coming from a man who constantly discusses the idea of a "Language of Opposites." It also made me trust him because he led us somewhere very specific and concrete after what seemed like an eternity of trick questions and abstract concepts.
So that's an interesting way to live, no? And what an amazing amount of faith it takes! To be comfortable being lost, believing that one day you will arrive at a clearing in the woods, to have complete credence that someone is leading you, despite your ignorance as to where. Of course this cannot be the only principle by which one lives if they hope to accomplish certain goals, but in the times when I feel like I'm metaphorically running in circles while wearing heels and tripping over road blocks after I've already run the wrong way into a dangerous neighborhood in the middle of the night without my cellphone or any money....it's nice to think there's a pot of gold waiting somewhere (PS - I've noticed the pots of gold rarely tend to wait on the other side of something as lovely as a rainbow, but more like on the other side of a tight rope suspended over a pit of angry alligators).
My acting mentor often says "Invite disaster!" I'm not sure it needs an invitation, but like a good hostess, I will always be ready to entertain it.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Representation
So it is election time, which has me thinking a lot about how we choose to represent ourselves. If anybody has the job of representing more people than they possibly ever could, it has to be the leader of a nation.
President Obama won many of us over because we felt that he could represent more of us than his predecessors and competitors. This may be true, but of course there will always be those who feel that they are not being emblamatized well or even at all. Right now the Sikh community in America is urging President Obama to reconsider his decision to cancel a trip to the Golden Temple in Amritsar, India. The president made his decision after questions were raised about how he would cover his head when entering the center. He has spent years trying to disassociate himself from being representative of Muslims and the mere thought of images circulating of him with his head covered was probably enough to give his advisors heart attacks. (Sikhs are not Muslim by the way, but rather practice a faith which draws from Hindu and Islamic beliefs)
I think I still have Genet on the brain.
President Obama won many of us over because we felt that he could represent more of us than his predecessors and competitors. This may be true, but of course there will always be those who feel that they are not being emblamatized well or even at all. Right now the Sikh community in America is urging President Obama to reconsider his decision to cancel a trip to the Golden Temple in Amritsar, India. The president made his decision after questions were raised about how he would cover his head when entering the center. He has spent years trying to disassociate himself from being representative of Muslims and the mere thought of images circulating of him with his head covered was probably enough to give his advisors heart attacks. (Sikhs are not Muslim by the way, but rather practice a faith which draws from Hindu and Islamic beliefs)
Lying crumpled on a table, a piece of cloth has no meaning. But swaddle a baby in it, put a picnic on top of it, drape it over a piece of artwork, a bed, or a table, wrap it around your head...and suddenly the cloth takes on meaning. After performing any of these functions, the cloth is still the cloth. It is you that has changed. I think this is beautiful, but at the same time we have to be careful of situations like this. Why does a piece of cloth have the power to change a person's mind? Whatever power we give to an object, it still has the possibility of being nothing more than the piece of crumpled cloth.
Matters of state aside, we represent one another in very personal ways. Whether we mean to or not, we represent our families, our teachers, our mentors, our bosses, our hometowns, our choices; in fact, we ourselves are representations of every moment that has ever come before. I certainly know that I tear up any time one of my parents or mentors looks at me and tells me "I am so proud of you." They have done so much right by me, and it makes me extremely happy to know that they feel I am doing the same for them. In this way we represent one another.I think I still have Genet on the brain.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)