Aristotle: Anybody can become angry...

...that is easy, but to be angry with the right person and to the right degree and at the right time and for the right purpose, and in the right way -- that is not within everybody's power and is not easy.

For me anger is the feeling that follows disappointment. I catch myself planning what will happen next (what I’ve decided Should happen next) as opposed to accepting life as it unfolds. If things don’t go according to my plan, I’m disappointed. I’d like to be pleasantly surprised with the unexpected outcome or just take the next step instead of being upset, falling out of balance. I practice reeling my thoughts back from my future to what’s happening right now. Accepting life as it is. I’m a recovering control freak.

Yesterday I had a great opportunity to practice allowing things to be however they are without flipping out if my expectations are not met. I’ve been searching for a freestanding pantry for my kitchen and finally found it online through Ikea. It’s easy to assemble and they deliver. Only the freaking thing arrived with hundreds of parts and to assemble it is way out of my comfort zone. Disappointed? Angry at myself? Frustrated? Yes and as I was unpacking the darn thing and realizing the problem I was stuck with, the battery on my smoke detector died and began a loud warning beeping.

“Shit. I was so waiting for that pantry so I could organize my kitchen and my life, start eating healthy and have time to exercise”.

I replaced the battery in the fire alarm. I called Ikea, and customer service politely informed me; “it’s Easy to assemble a pantry, a child could do it”. I tried explain that I have several projects going already, I don’t have Time for another project, but they had already hung up.  I then unpacked the hundred and one parts of my new cupboard and carefully stacked them out of the way to be dealt with later. Much later.

The truth is I’m always procrastinating getting on with my life until things are Just So. And at the same time  I’m packing in the new projects so I’ll never realize that Just So Perfect World. What would happen if things got really unsettled as in a tsunami, or earthquake or other disaster? I fall apart because I don’t have my dream cupboard. I get disappointed then angry and there is my excuse to postpone who I say I want to be. Well, yesterday I got lucky and was reminded I could just start being that person right now. No need to wait. Making excuses is easy. Being angry is easy. Changing outdated habits is harder. I witnessed the toxic reaction and chose the sustaining healing action instead. Instead of beating myself up with words, I gave myself a break and went for a swim.

accepting death in every moment...

Acceptance that one is dying all the time is what I have been trying to understand on a deeper level.  In some ways I still exist under the illusion that death is simply abstract, and I can keep it at bay by following certain practises or beliefs.  But there sits death  in the shadows all the time. In my simplistic way, I think death only occurs when I physically die at the end of my life. But of course there is a continual cycle of birth and death  going on all the time. I just choose not to recognize,  and in my resistence death can quickly become something to fear. It takes me into unknown territory, and my mind resists the truth that my heart knows.  Maybe I am contemplating death because in the past while, I have lost folks close to my heart. Or maybe I have felt sadness as I watch thousands be consumed by death through mother earths's epic earthquakes. But I want to relate to  death with new eyes, through a different lense, or maybe to see it through multiple lenses. There are many ways to relate to death simultaneously, and fear is just one of those lenses.  Watching my aging mother has also brought this to the forefront. I watch her powers diminish and see her frustration with the loss of control. I watch the chaos as I see the "talents"  she loved slowly taken from her. I think tenacity becomes your best friend in old age. Perhaps it is not so much death, but the "transition" to death that can be hard to watch. There is an element of suffering that is undeniable. There is an element of compassion that it is undeniable. I can see why I sometimes want to hide from its power.  I have supported many people through their transition, and you would think I would accept and be in a position to support. But ironally, the more I go through it, the more perplexing it seems. It is one of those unsolvable condundrums that cannot be intellectually understood, but falls more in the realm of the heart to seek truth about. I guess that if death is a continuum, from its miniscule  to epic expressions, then it is good to try and develop a relationship with it, and embrace its beautiful and harsh truths.  My instinct is that if I can know death more deeply, then it will influence how I look and feel about life. Maybe I will cherish life more deeply. I think life is where I  always want to focus, but it is only half the equation, and I need to be open to the little deaths going on all the time -  in the physical world, in my own personal world, the deaths in my belief systems, the end of a relationship, the  recognition that I have to make changes etc. Those are all deaths in their own right, so why is the physical death so profound?  For centuries, intellects and philosophers talk about death and the nature of consciousness - does consciousness exist or non exist after death.  In the end, does it really matter - death perhaps is just another portal - and the act of dying aswell the observation of others dieing, helps to  level all our lives out.  It opens my heart, and in that moment when I watch another beautiful soul shift, I feel the world stop for a brief second, and feel another reality takes hold, like passing on a baton to an invisible force.  Maybe it is no wonder that I sometimes feel awed and fearful at the same time.

Compassion Starts With Little Me

She Is Trying SO hard to get it right

Please Watch the above (very short) video. 

This is me, trying SO hard to "get it right". I am completely innocent! This is a wonderful realization for me. To have compassion for my conditioned self. That innocently looked around and compared myself with others, tried to make my body contort to the expectations. Those expectations that started out from others (parents, teachers, friends) but soon morphed into my own expectation.
I look at this little girl and see myself, trying SO hard to  "get it right", and she is missing out on the Dance!!!
But isn't she precious? In her sincerity to conform? So innocent, so precious, SO FUNNY. I can have compassion for that part of myself and laugh at it too.