Changing Forms, More Things to Enjoy

       The service at PCSL this past Sunday was called "This Too Shall Pass" and continues the focus on The Art of Uncertainty by Dennis Merritt Jones. Since I enjoyed reflecting on last week's service so much. I think I'll do it again this week. :-) And as I did with Sharon, I will quote Larry profusely throughout my reflection, possibly quoting him quoting Jones, unknowingly. I guess the only way to find out is to read the book....

       Larry opened his talk to sharing with us his first experience of being in love.  It was the summer of his first year in college and even though they connected deeply and spent a very powerful summer together, by August his love had to return to college. They shared new heights of happiness and engagement of one another, beyond what friendship brings. And then after a brief summer, just like that he was gone... As Larry talked about the pain he experienced, it quickly brought to mind my own first experience of being in love and having that person disappear from my life.  Like Larry, my first experience of being in love was in college.  And I cherish it fully these days. There is nothing quite like having grown to love a person, the beauty and creativity you see in their mind and heart, the qualities of their voice and expressions, the way that they engage you in conversation.  The way that their presence pulls on you, grasping you, tugging gently at your hips or yanking you by the ankles and making you dance toward them. Equally fulfilling, perchance you get to see them loving you back and embracing your qualities. The relationship becomes a celebration of your mutual support and shared energy each day.  It's all about the heavy magnetism of two kindred souls being drawn together and saying "this I can get with."  It's unlike any other experience in its distinct imprint on your personal universe.  It builds something up inside you that makes you always look forward to moments as simple as eye contact or a smile with that person. And add to that a deep romantic attraction and, most importantly, the unfamiliarity of that experience to a young person with a sensitive body and soul.  A vortex of feeling awaits...

       Unlike, Larry, I made the choice myself to detach from this person. However, making that choice was not without severe, heartrending, pain.  I remember the conversation that led to us going our separate ways, and I remember closing the door behind him and involuntarily, in the most cinematic of ways, having my back fall against the door, sinking to the ground, clutching my stomach, and bursting into tears. The pain was unreal, unforgettable, and instantaneous. I've thankfully not experienced anything like it since.  I think that getting suddenly pushed off a building might be the only thing comparable.  Because I have never been quite so attached as that since, nothing has ever been the same. But at the time there was a sharp sense of loss deep in my stomach and a feeling like my lungs had collapsed and something about my very essence had been torn from some strange region between my heart and my throat...

     The gut twisting and throat tearing of that cold winter day in 2010 in Chicago for me was the pain of "attachment to outcomes." Larry once witnessed a very young girl being rejected by her crush. He could see how "The pain was real for her." And he explained the nature of the pain she was feeling and the pain he felt when his first love went back to college.  He talked about how we often spend a lot of time "wishing that something could be what it's not or wishing it could never end."  "When things are going well we want to make it permanent." Not just in love, in our jobs, in our financial lives, in our friendships and social sphere. I can't help but think of how I feel in Portland right now.  I am so enamored with so many facets of my life that I do in a way hope that nothing will change. But luckily, I am present.  Unlike in college, when I was so head over heels upside down in love.  Each experience and memory I have taken from my time with that person, retrospectively speaking, is glowing and warm in isolation to all others. But in my early years of adulthood, because of my immaturity and controlling nature, I was always looking ever forward to the next time, from the moment each time together had ended.  So I got deeply attached to my experience of a particular person, and I would say honestly that I even closed myself off to other experiences that I could have been having as a result of that attachment. I was no longer present in other areas of my life that he was not involved in.  I became so attached to the form that was choosing to receive my love and I focused it so outwardly that I think I lost much of myself in it--which is dangerous for relationships because it is hard to continue loving someone once there is no longer a whole and balanced person still there to love...

       Even more so, when I lost that relationship, did I become limited in my ability to form new attachments and share new intimacies.  It was as if just the simple fact of having been loved by that person at that time in my life was not a great enough gift.  I somehow had developed such a narrow perspective on my future that it had all but dissipated completely without him in it.  But why was I thinking this way? After all, I saw him as smart, vibrant, funny, lively, beautiful, and kind.  To have such a person choose to share love with me ought to be viewed as a precious gem of experience and ought to feed your sense of wholeness and worth. But I could not take that and move forward with it. I felt I had lost something irreplaceable and I not only feared new connections in my life because of the outcome, I also withheld myself from giving to them fully. And it was the fullness of giving in the previous experience that had for no short amount of time allowed me to cultivate a fulfilling sense of love and intimacy in my life.

      What I gained from the experience, I never lose, I just carry it with me to a new place, or a new person--a new form.  As Larry puts it, we ought to be thinking that "The feeling of knowing that I'm loved...that sense of intimacy is mine." Even if I end up taking it to a new relationship with a new person, I get to keep that always.  And that is what I can take away from the experience.  And maybe that seems strange to some people. How can you just replace another person? Well, you can't. But at the same time, you cannot control other human beings. And you cannot guarantee the outcomes of your relationships.  So why not celebrate the shape that they take, for the time that they exist, and then bring that healthy presence of self into the next phase... And I don't know if you've looked around lately, but there are a lot of cool people out there if you become receptive to new relationships, whether creative, professional, spiritual, romantic or plain ol' friendly fun.

      When things are going really well and we feel like we are thriving and being rewarded for our endeavors, we may become anxious to "lock it down." But that is not the way life works. Larry moved the discussion of attachment to form into a discussion of good phases and bad phases of life.   And as Larry said, "A good period of time in my life is just a time, a phase, it is not me." If you are really wanting to embrace the fullness of life experience and the magic of the world we live in, you need to acknowledge that your life will not always be easy and rewarding and fluffy and happy in the conventional sense. You will experience very real losses. We all do. You will experience failure and frustration.  But these experiences should be met with the same vibrancy and optimism we take to our successes and gains.  "You are the sum of what you have taken from your experiences. And at any place, at any time in your life, you are capable of being whole."  Love the things that enter your life beyond your control.  You never know what they could produce. And opening yourself up to experience, both good and bad, sweet and painful, is the most nourishing way to live life.

      So we can love a person the best we can and that will always be a good thing. But if we get attached to a particular relationship and person, and that person leaves us or changes the form of the relationship we may feel heartache. As Larry put it "Shift happens." The goal is to "be attached to the feelings [an experience] brings but not to its outside form...detach from the form of it and just revel in the experience of it." And of course, you must be in the moment to experience the moment.  "Attachment to locking down form" in life only leads to disappointment and heartache.  That heartache comes from a desire to keep the form of our love or our relationship exactly the same--which is an aspect of it we cannot control. If instead we are open to change--whether it be a breakup or just a renegotiation of boundaries--and we choose to adapt and continue to love others as much as we can because it feels good, we have a much better chance of avoiding heartache and actually attracting more love than ever before...

      Larry once saw a little girl in public doing that happy but painful sounding squeal thing that little girls do sometimes. He appreciated her life and energy. He also happen to notice that in that moment, her father was not appreciating her. Rather, he was talking on his cell phone, probably arguing with a coworker about something job related. And it occurred to Larry that at that particular moment, the father was missing out on his beautiful daughter's powerful expression of self.  Now, of course, all of us miss being present for rewarding parts of our lives on a day to day basis. And this certainly doesn't make the man a bad person, or even a bad father.  But his daughter will grow fast. She will only be a child for a short time. Then she'll be a teenager. Then an adult. And then she might walk down the aisle. He will blink and before long his baby will be all grown up.  Now her father might feel at some point while he watches her grow up that he missed some special part of it by accident. But dwelling on that only causes him to lose out on current moments because the relationship is there and re-connection with his little girl is always possible. She's just in a different form. Just because he can't go back in time to when she was a squealing eight year old and get off the phone to stand witness, doesn't mean he can't look in her beautiful adult eyes and see that same vibrant energy that has always been there.  Even if you miss one part, it doesn't mean you have lost the relationship. And dwelling on loss impacts your opportunities to receive in the present.

       The real question is whether or not you feel capable of detaching from the forms of good in your life and just embracing the experience of it.  According to Henry Ford, "Whether you think you can or think you can't, you're right." My current poetry project has had me at times totally torn up over the outcomes.  Will it turn out the way I intended? Will it be beautiful enough or perfect enough in its form?  Will anyone love or receive my art?  Will it make any money or push me toward a more prosperous and fulfilling place in life? Will I be competent enough to organize such a large endeavor and share it in a more powerful way than I previously thought myself capable of?

       Not knowing how to do something but having the will, knowing you will find a way, is a dive into uncertainty and it requires detachment from the outcome.  It will bring extraordinary growth no matter what happens.  And if you happen to find a way to accomplish something, to be successful in however you choose to define that for yourself, than all the better. But if you only did things you already knew you could do, years could pass and you would never feel different, new, daring, and strong. "Center in on the feelings and experience, rather than the form or the outcome."  And the growth that comes from embracing uncertainty and detaching from outcomes will make you feel as if you no longer have to worry about the past or the future.  They are not the moments that make the greatest difference to you right now.

"If we really dwell on our enjoyment of life, life will bring us more things to enjoy." --Larry

       

Uncertainty, The Doorway, and A Prolific Chance

       The service at Portland Center for Spiritual Living last Sunday was entitled "The Edge of Uncertainty" and based around a book I have never read called The Art of Uncertainty by Dennis Merritt Jones. Uncertainty! The unknowingness of life. The unknowable unknown. The uncertain. Certain coming from certus, meaning sure. Without sureness. To be on the edge of a place without sureness. That, my friends, is the focus! Seeing what we cannot see.

       There was a talk given by Reverend Sharon Foley, in which she excerpted from the book and incorporated Jones's ideas into an interpretation of her own life and of life in general. Rev. Foley is a soulful, intelligent, healthy, and vibrant woman with a talent for being openly generous with her musings on the very essence of life itself.  In short, she is a role model for me!

       

Rev. summarized the concepts of the book as being the following:

1. Life is a mystery
2. Control is an Illusion
3. What matters is how we choose to deal with that

       It was hard to parse out which ideas in the talk were coming straight from Sharon's own mind and which were summarizing the ideas of Jones. So I will just say from here forward that if I quote or give reference to an idea and I do not specify who it came from then it is either from Foley or from Jones. And if I specify that Foley said it, she may have been quoting Jones and I just didn't notice at the time. Whoops. That was me bad.

       Either way what I am doing is ruminating.  Just like after a cow eats  the grass but doesn't chew it all the way, then goes and sits down somewhere----where it comes back up mixed with his own stuff and he chews it again.  :-P Mleck! A bit graphic, but a good analogy for what Reverend Foley may have done with Jones' book  to prepare her talk. And what I am doing now with her talk after having listened to it. :-)

       Sharon observed that a mystery novel keeps you involved and moving through it  for the very reason that is does not give you the answers you are seeking. She called this "living in the awe of the sweetness of the mystery itself." I find that entire phrase strikingly resonant and wise in all its facets. And I like the idea of adopting it as an intention of being.  I have for a bit of time now completely let go of many different intentions that I had originally put on my life. I recognized that many of the ways in which I wanted to control my own life were out of fear and not out of a true desire to be a certain way. 

       For example, I did not in my heart have a true desire to just simply have a job with a good income and a fancy title. But I felt fear that if I did not acquire something along those lines quickly that I would feel like nothing--that I would not respect or appreciate myself as a person and neither would anyone else I cared for or admired. Reading that fear in text, it looks as if it may startle a person, perhaps because that person has felt the very same fear (or an easily relatable one) but they abhor so deeply the idea of feeling unlovable for such a reason that they might read about my fear and reject it, denying it fervently. I would understand such a reaction. I am having it now. And I was having it every time I experienced such a fear in my life, day after day, for years on end.  And that is why releasing such a fear, into the world, like a flock of black birds startled from my heart, releasing the desire to control the outcome of my life, has been so incredibly liberating and uplifting.

       A way to practice living in the awe of the sweetness of the mystery of life (again Sharon's magical words, not mine) would be to continually ask yourself questions about your future throughout the day and respond to those questions by saying "I don't know" and then meditating on how that feels and what that does to your conception of your life. When will I be able to afford to buy a house? I don't know... When will I finally find a person to share my life with that I can love and support unconditionally? I don't know...  When will my car be done getting fixed at the shop? I don't know... What should I do with my free time? I don't know... When will my sick loved one finally pass on to the other side? I don't know... What will I do once they are gone? I don't know. What do I do now...

       It is not about the things you do not have the answers to.  You may truly not know the answer to a lot of the questions that you ask yourself. But what does that process make you think of and what are you feeling more sure of? And if you can't control most things, but you can control yourself and your life, which is yours and yours alone, what will you do with it, right here and now?  And if you have certain aspirations like owning a house or having a fulfilling career or finding a wife, do you truly deeply feel that if those things do not come into your grasp someday, you will have been empty handed all along in your search for them? And do you really feel that you will be a failure if you end up living your life differently from how you originally aspired toward living?  Do you feel that if you do not prove somehow in your outside world that you can have the exact things that you believe that you want you are not full and whole?  Would you want a friend or a loved one to ever feel that way about themselves?

       From my perspective, the way to live in uncertainty is by knowing your own potential to love yourself fully and completely and passing that love forward out into the world without plan or desire for specific outcomes. As long as you are always able to do for yourself and others, whatever other aspirations you have or desires you move toward, whatever unexpected suffering, tragedy, or pain stops you in your tracks. Whatever uncertainty may come in and shift the ground you walk on. Your balance,  your stability, your doorway to stand in is your love...

       Sharon goes on to say that we don't always have to have a definite plan or an attachment to the outcome of something.  She says, "Don't be fearful of the future. Be curious." And yet, we all experience fear as an inevitable part of our lives. Sharon says, "I can feel the fear and do it anyway."  She refers to this as living with the fear as opposed to living in the fear. Not being afraid to say "I don't know," or "I'm not sure." Not stopping yourself from trying to do something because a fear exists in you.  Fear can exist in you without stopping you. In the same way that anger, loneliness, sadness, and all the seemingly paralytic emotions can.

       Once Sharon moves us through these basic ideas about uncertainty, that is when she gets really engrossing.  She says that "The closest to being in control we will ever be is in that moment that we realize we are not."  This is a very powerful statement.  And if I really process it I can feel something deep inside resisting, pushing and fighting back against its very message. I cannot help but want to disagree with that.  And yet, everything I have been experiencing has reinforced this idea as true. I have never felt more powerful than when I let go and release my conceptions about other people and how they should fit into my life. Than when I stop forcing myself to do one thing or another because I think it is what I should be doing and instead start living each day open to the possibility of something I didn't expect. Than when I accept certain things about my present life, set the intention to change them, and then detach from the results of that process--knowing that by turning myself and moving in a better direction, I have already moved forward and whether or not my outside world changes, I have improved myself in a way that is not quantifiable by moving forward in each new moment with an intention, regardless of what may change in the end. 

        To be perfectly honest, that is how I lost weight and got healthier.  I did not do it by telling myself that I would not be happy unless I lost a certain amount of weight. I envisioned a healthy weight for myself and thought that moving closer to that weight would be a positive experience. I did not tell myself that I must absolutely exercise this amount of time each week in this way. I did not judge my body, but simply celebrated any little changes that came and seemed healthy and positive. I did not tell myself I had to eat a certain kind of food or a certain amount of calories.  I gave in to the uncertainty of how much healthier I would become and gave myself over gratefully to the process of learning to become more healthy. And though failure was a possibility, once I forgave myself for that possibility, it never came. And once I reached a weight I wanted to stay, my diet and exercise changed again gradually. And I came to rest in a place of making new decisions each day with a new level of mindfulness. And I make all my decisions related to nutrition and activity as an act of self love. I do not let feelings of guilt or shame or thoughts of criticism enter into my relationship with my food or my physical activity anymore.  And I am happy with how I look and how I feel.

"I feel a lot more like I will than I ever did before." --Sharon

       Turning yourself over the process and possibility of growth and of positive change, and detachment from the ultimate outcome, is a constant challenge.  But it is the best practice I believe we can do for living. Since life will always be uncertain. Always uncertain.

Pamela Joan Dillon  

1988 - ?

"There is an art to living gracefully in uncertainty...Releasing the need 

for control of the outside world."

...

 "It might be that the only thing we have a chance to control is our next thought."

If we really acknowledge 
that freedom of thought, own it,

and breath slowly in it, it is 

a singular and endlessly prolific chance...

The chance to have power over 

my next thought, gives me 

more opportunity, more possibility, 

more immediate wealth and fulfillment 

than anything the outside world could possibly bestow...

Epiphanies about Being in My Home and Being in Public

I was standing outside smoking a cigarette. I'm smoking again recently, even though I don't really want to be a smoker.

But I was on the sidewalk and a man came by walking two dogs. Lately when I smoke I am very conscious of whether or not it is (or may potentially be) bothering someone around me, even strangers. I often hold my exhale until after a stranger passes by. So I put my cigarette behind me and I stepped off the sidewalk to make room for him and his dogs to pass. I felt embarrassed and in the way. I smiled anyway and observed his presence with caring and attentiveness.

He responded with a smile and a hello. And then he said, "How are you today?" And I said "Good. Thank you." And then he passed on to the other side of the sidewalk with his little companions and disappeared....

At that moment, I realized that I was in my yoga pants, a tshirt, and my new favorite slippers, which are dark brown and a bit furry. My hair was still wet from showering...  I noticed that I'm in a "home" level of arrangement because I wasn't thinking of my going out to have a cigarette on the sidewalk as a public experience. This could have contributed to my embarrassment in that moment and vulnerability.

His friendliness spoke to me about how, really, at that moment, the sidewalk was both his public space and my home.  It is an extension of my home territory. And that is how I felt about being out there.  His kindness and forgiveness--because in my mind I felt the need to be forgiven for smoking at that instant--sent acknowledgment of the space toward me. A recognition of its constitution both to me and to him in this happening.  And I felt comforted, to think and to understand. Not because it was important or profound, but because processing relieved my guilt and embarrassment and allowed me to return to just being. In my home and in public at the same time.

Oat and Oak as my Personal Blog

In taking my poetry off of this blog, I hope that I haven't disappointed anyone.

Through the posting process here, I've developed a greater sense of respect and appreciation of my work. And that led me to new steps toward publication and completion of a project. For that reason, I'm extremely grateful to have started it all right in this very place...

I moved away from this blog when I moved forward, but I didn't delete it.  I just took a break from it. And in my reflections I've realized that it's ready to be something new instead.  A personal blog.

Not about poetry, per say. Or creativity, per say. But instead just whatever spills out of my heart and onto a page at any given moment, that I'm comfortable with making public.

So that's what this will be for now. And I hope that it will still be read and catch someone's interest. Even though it won't be in verse. It will usually not have a rhyme scheme, I don't think. And it won't come out in concise and fully concentrated single ideas, but, rather, a stream... how we all live in the space in our minds.

Heartstump Collection Coming Soon

My first poetry collection, Heartstump, is in process in 2015. Due out before long...

To keep updated, please visit my new site: heartstump.org

I will be updating it shortly with some artwork, and it will all accelerate from there.

Thanks to everyone for your kind and loving support.  Please feel free to contact me.

madame.ottenok@gmail.com