allowed me to stumble across this lovely quote:
precisely the right disasters comes at the right moment to break us open to the helplessness that an opening of the heart requires.~coleman barks
Friday, November 13, 2009
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
bliss
i love words.
i love the way they explain things.
i love the way they roll off my tongue.
i love the way, that when i find the right word, whether it be for a poem, a statement, or in my own busy head, it provides freedom, release and peace.
with words we predict our future.
yes.
no.
can.
cannot.
will.
won't.
with words we make and break our relationships.
we can say hello or goodbye.
we start and finish... and fill in all that's in between.
for the past three years, to mark the new year and send off a wish for what i hope it will bring, i've chosen a single word. this word serves as an intention. a reminder. it's the word i fall back on throughout the year seeking it out and trying to understand it to the best of my ability.
words are tricky.
one single word can have so much meaning.
and each year that i choose a word, i learn it's meaning in more way than one.
2008 was a hard year. it was a year that involved many wonderful experiences, but also one of many losses and a lot of hardship. i wanted `09 to be better, so i chose the word bliss, thinking it was a no fail word. that there was going to be no downside to bliss.
and there isn't, at least not yet that i've noticed (fingers crossed), but i've learned that bliss isn't as simple as i once thought.
i'm not alone in my word tradition and learning each word throughout the year... many other friends have joined me in this new year's practice.
one particular friend, chessa, chose the word joy.
her 08 was also tough, and as we planned for 09 to come around we both moaned and groaned to each other that we hoped it would be easier.
a couple months ago chessa started documenting her daily joys. it's something i love to keep tabs on. first, i love getting a glimpse into what it is that brings a smile to her face each day and second, i just think it's a really cute and cool idea.
each day she takes a moment to make a tribute to joy. in one of her entries she wrote: sometimes, joy is what shows up only after the pain finally stops.
and just as chessa is getting to know her word in more ways than she had figured, i am learning my own chosen word as well.
this is what i am learning...
bliss is found in moments. it's not something one can hold onto or even control. it's not even something you can summon, though i have tried to do so many times. instead, at least in my experience, it is like a rainbow in the sky. something that just happens to appears when the conditions are right. and if you keep your head to the skies and are in the right place at the right time, you'll be lucky enough to enjoy it.
in this year i've tried to create moments of bliss, i've tried to evoke the feeling only to find myself frustrated and discouraged. i've found myself in the midst of a handful of things that should have made me happy beyond belief, only to feel sad, down, and annoyed. searching and wondering "where is my bliss?!"
but when i've let things be and went about my day, i found it showed up here and there without any meddling of my own.it was in morning coffee sessions. in the surf. in the sunset. in a warm embrace or a belly laugh. it wasn't something i could bring to the table, but if i took the time to focus and appreciate the moment, then there it was, darting in and out, here and there. reflecting off the bits and pieces of my life.
in addition to learning that bliss is not within my control, i've also learned that it requires a bit of bravery. it requires following, which contrary to popular belief, isn't for the meek, but instead is for the trusting. to be blissfully happy is to let go. to give in to the senses and let all else fall away.
whether it be:
in love
in the moment
in life
to follow bliss requires a certain degree of faith. it means not asking questions but instead just letting that little voice or feeling in me lead. it means listening to what it is that speaks to me in a silent language, even if i don't fully understand what it's saying or know where it's going to take me. it requires the courage to be okay with things not making sense.
it requires more being. less pleasing. more allowing. less searching and trying to figure it all out.
bliss.
it's a beautiful word that i am enjoying the challenge of learning.and while we're still a bit off, as yet another year starts to dwindle down, i find myself thinking about my next word for my next year. i'm thinking maybe next year i'll go in the opposite direction. choose a word that's usually unappealing and learn the upsides.
we shall see...
i love the way they explain things.
i love the way they roll off my tongue.
i love the way, that when i find the right word, whether it be for a poem, a statement, or in my own busy head, it provides freedom, release and peace.
with words we predict our future.
yes.
no.
can.
cannot.
will.
won't.
with words we make and break our relationships.
we can say hello or goodbye.
we start and finish... and fill in all that's in between.
for the past three years, to mark the new year and send off a wish for what i hope it will bring, i've chosen a single word. this word serves as an intention. a reminder. it's the word i fall back on throughout the year seeking it out and trying to understand it to the best of my ability.
words are tricky.
one single word can have so much meaning.
and each year that i choose a word, i learn it's meaning in more way than one.
2008 was a hard year. it was a year that involved many wonderful experiences, but also one of many losses and a lot of hardship. i wanted `09 to be better, so i chose the word bliss, thinking it was a no fail word. that there was going to be no downside to bliss.
and there isn't, at least not yet that i've noticed (fingers crossed), but i've learned that bliss isn't as simple as i once thought.
i'm not alone in my word tradition and learning each word throughout the year... many other friends have joined me in this new year's practice.
one particular friend, chessa, chose the word joy.
her 08 was also tough, and as we planned for 09 to come around we both moaned and groaned to each other that we hoped it would be easier.
a couple months ago chessa started documenting her daily joys. it's something i love to keep tabs on. first, i love getting a glimpse into what it is that brings a smile to her face each day and second, i just think it's a really cute and cool idea.
each day she takes a moment to make a tribute to joy. in one of her entries she wrote: sometimes, joy is what shows up only after the pain finally stops.
and just as chessa is getting to know her word in more ways than she had figured, i am learning my own chosen word as well.
this is what i am learning...
bliss is found in moments. it's not something one can hold onto or even control. it's not even something you can summon, though i have tried to do so many times. instead, at least in my experience, it is like a rainbow in the sky. something that just happens to appears when the conditions are right. and if you keep your head to the skies and are in the right place at the right time, you'll be lucky enough to enjoy it.
in this year i've tried to create moments of bliss, i've tried to evoke the feeling only to find myself frustrated and discouraged. i've found myself in the midst of a handful of things that should have made me happy beyond belief, only to feel sad, down, and annoyed. searching and wondering "where is my bliss?!"
but when i've let things be and went about my day, i found it showed up here and there without any meddling of my own.it was in morning coffee sessions. in the surf. in the sunset. in a warm embrace or a belly laugh. it wasn't something i could bring to the table, but if i took the time to focus and appreciate the moment, then there it was, darting in and out, here and there. reflecting off the bits and pieces of my life.
in addition to learning that bliss is not within my control, i've also learned that it requires a bit of bravery. it requires following, which contrary to popular belief, isn't for the meek, but instead is for the trusting. to be blissfully happy is to let go. to give in to the senses and let all else fall away.
whether it be:
in love
in the moment
in life
to follow bliss requires a certain degree of faith. it means not asking questions but instead just letting that little voice or feeling in me lead. it means listening to what it is that speaks to me in a silent language, even if i don't fully understand what it's saying or know where it's going to take me. it requires the courage to be okay with things not making sense.
it requires more being. less pleasing. more allowing. less searching and trying to figure it all out.
bliss.
it's a beautiful word that i am enjoying the challenge of learning.and while we're still a bit off, as yet another year starts to dwindle down, i find myself thinking about my next word for my next year. i'm thinking maybe next year i'll go in the opposite direction. choose a word that's usually unappealing and learn the upsides.
we shall see...
Thursday, November 5, 2009
thoughts on green grass, daisies and erik
My ever so optimistic friend, Kira, likes to say “the grass isn't greenest on the other side of the fence, the grass is greenest on my side.”
She’s one of those people that I aspire to be like; always finding the upside in down times. Most recently when her apartment was flooded, instead of complaining about it, she shared with me about how lucky she was to have her in-laws to house her. Even when I asked her “isn’t it an inconvenience??” she just shrugged her shoulders and smiled.
I am not at Kira’s level yet. Far from it. I waiver both ways on my green grass views. And so, I believe that the grass is greenest wherever you water it. Unfortunately, I hop the fence all the time without even meaning to, water hose in hand, quick to saturate myself in the beauty of someone else's yard while I complain about everything that lacks in my own.
My grass is like a Dr. Suess rhyme that never seems to rhyme…Green grass, brown grass. Good life. Blah life. I never quite know what my mood is going to be on any given day. Which frustrates me to no end, because I know I’ve got it good, really good. But I just can’t always feel the goodness of my good.
And all this talk about grass, when the truth is, I don't have any grass.
Just concrete.
That, and 4 long slender garden boxes that Erik built for me. Boxes which host strawberries, chilies, basil, rosemary, lettuce and a slew of other things, including the Gerbera daisies I had to beg to include.
(Several months ago at the garden shop)
Me: Oooh. Let's get these! They're so pretty!
Erik: Really?! But they're useless; they're just gonna take up space and we could grow something really cool instead.
Me: What?! They're sooo cool. And they make me smile. Are you saying that’s useless??
(Needless to say I won that argument)
And since he takes charge of watering the garden, it's always green... and pink and red and orange too. No grass but that's okay.
Because in this time of shades of gray (and green). In this time of ups and downs. Questions, fears and the continual existential crisis about what I'm doing with my life and whether I'll live up to my potential. (Whether I still have potential.) I know that even if I end up desolate, down, dejected and so much less than I had hoped for, I'll be okay. Because I've got family and friends that will love me no matter what. That will tell me I'm good, and who will always be there.
And I've also got Erik.
For as the weeks turn into months and newness turns into settled in. As we grow into each other, grow into an "us." Find ourselves so wrapped up in each other's arms, lives, beings, hopes, dreams, frustrations, fears, etc. that one becomes a part of the other and I begin to forget what life was once like without him. I'm learning this:
I've got a man who will build me a garden with daisies even if he thinks they take up space.
A man, who, even if I were pick a daisy in that garden, strip it down to it's last petal and find myself whispering "he loves me not," would no doubt still love me. And even if 100 daisies came to the same conclusion, he would still stand, unwavering.
There is something to be said for someone who is not shy with their feelings and who doesn't go a day without letting me know I am loved and cared about.
And maybe that's the greenest of greens. The bluest of blues. Maybe that's the color I always wished there was a word for. The color I used to call "Alaska" as a little girl, not realizing that Alaska was a state, but instead thinking it was that word for all the colors in the world swirled around together like an oil spot on the street, but prettier and not as dirty.
As time goes on, maybe I am becoming just a little bit more like Kira...
She’s one of those people that I aspire to be like; always finding the upside in down times. Most recently when her apartment was flooded, instead of complaining about it, she shared with me about how lucky she was to have her in-laws to house her. Even when I asked her “isn’t it an inconvenience??” she just shrugged her shoulders and smiled.
I am not at Kira’s level yet. Far from it. I waiver both ways on my green grass views. And so, I believe that the grass is greenest wherever you water it. Unfortunately, I hop the fence all the time without even meaning to, water hose in hand, quick to saturate myself in the beauty of someone else's yard while I complain about everything that lacks in my own.
My grass is like a Dr. Suess rhyme that never seems to rhyme…Green grass, brown grass. Good life. Blah life. I never quite know what my mood is going to be on any given day. Which frustrates me to no end, because I know I’ve got it good, really good. But I just can’t always feel the goodness of my good.
And all this talk about grass, when the truth is, I don't have any grass.
Just concrete.
That, and 4 long slender garden boxes that Erik built for me. Boxes which host strawberries, chilies, basil, rosemary, lettuce and a slew of other things, including the Gerbera daisies I had to beg to include.
(Several months ago at the garden shop)
Me: Oooh. Let's get these! They're so pretty!
Erik: Really?! But they're useless; they're just gonna take up space and we could grow something really cool instead.
Me: What?! They're sooo cool. And they make me smile. Are you saying that’s useless??
(Needless to say I won that argument)
And since he takes charge of watering the garden, it's always green... and pink and red and orange too. No grass but that's okay.
Because in this time of shades of gray (and green). In this time of ups and downs. Questions, fears and the continual existential crisis about what I'm doing with my life and whether I'll live up to my potential. (Whether I still have potential.) I know that even if I end up desolate, down, dejected and so much less than I had hoped for, I'll be okay. Because I've got family and friends that will love me no matter what. That will tell me I'm good, and who will always be there.
And I've also got Erik.
For as the weeks turn into months and newness turns into settled in. As we grow into each other, grow into an "us." Find ourselves so wrapped up in each other's arms, lives, beings, hopes, dreams, frustrations, fears, etc. that one becomes a part of the other and I begin to forget what life was once like without him. I'm learning this:
I've got a man who will build me a garden with daisies even if he thinks they take up space.
A man, who, even if I were pick a daisy in that garden, strip it down to it's last petal and find myself whispering "he loves me not," would no doubt still love me. And even if 100 daisies came to the same conclusion, he would still stand, unwavering.
There is something to be said for someone who is not shy with their feelings and who doesn't go a day without letting me know I am loved and cared about.
And maybe that's the greenest of greens. The bluest of blues. Maybe that's the color I always wished there was a word for. The color I used to call "Alaska" as a little girl, not realizing that Alaska was a state, but instead thinking it was that word for all the colors in the world swirled around together like an oil spot on the street, but prettier and not as dirty.
As time goes on, maybe I am becoming just a little bit more like Kira...
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