The story is this: I have been feeling allergicky (which hasn't happened in some years, because recently I have been either pregnant or nursing in the spring). And as per tradition, with the allergies came asthma. If you are a sufferer of asthma, you know it is really about terror. It is entirely terrifying to not be able to breathe, which just aggravates the problem into a horrible cycle sometime arrested only by visits to emergency rooms and breathing in lots of medicine. Blech.
Long about 2008, with some help, I figured out that the best thing I can do in the course of an asthma attack is get really quiet and focus on my breathing, constantly reminding myself that in THIS instant I have enough air, that my heart is beating, that I am safe. I am not recommending this practice as a cure-all, but for me it is very effective. Still, asthma is no fun, and it is scary, and it makes me angry.
SO. What have I been doing with these feelings of frustration and fear?
Trying desperately to find a source. Is it my husband, who wants me to euthanize my cat and never cleans the house? Is it my daughter, who screams for help no matter how patiently I explain that screaming is not how we get things done? Is it my work, which is creatively a little dormant? Is it my period, because maybe I really should be pregnant again? Is it my cat, who pees in all my shoes?
It is all these things, and the BIGGEST BADDEST of them all is the long long long long list of things I have not done, and SHOULD be doing, because I am never working hard enough and never doing it properly.
Case in point, the garden.
Yesterday, despite my 'llergies, I dutifully went out with Lil and squeezed as much joy as possible out of working in our lovely little garden. I was charmed by the strawberries, but frustrated by Lillie's seed-planting techniques, and annoyed that no matter how diligently I remove them, WEEDS are everywhere. Harumph and grrrr.
This morning, though, with such grace, a thought arrived. This thought (thank you for your patience) is this:
My purpose is to be a benefit to the world. And along with that, I remember dear dear dear Pema Chodron saying, comes a lowering of standards. And, I remember dear dear dear Anne Lamott saying, a gentle lifting off of the hook.
My friends, I am breathing so much easier.
So I went out to look at the garden again. Forgive the cliche, but dang if it isn't entirely miraculous! It smells good, and the spinach is growing beautifully, and even the weird purple weeds I didn't have the energy to pull yesterday look exactly right. See?
This is why I train. This is why I am so in love with practicing. Because my head last night was not a nice place to be. It was sticky and dark and full of meanness. But because I have been practicing, because I have been recalibrating, because I have been reworking ineffective patterns, and just generally opening this shite up, this morning, when I needed it, the truth kicked in. What a HUGEness is that.
I am so pleased.
No comments:
Post a Comment