Bon Iver Christmas

"I love this part." It warms my heart to hear four year old Nadia say those words about a Bon Iver song. She's got good taste if I do say so myself.  The song is playing in the car as the three of us set out; Ben, myself, and Nadia, to do some christmas light searching.  As the song reaches a glorious crescendo, Nadia blurts out, "We have to sing loud Christina!  We have to sing with the trumpets!"  Christmas suddenly appears in that moment, accompanied by holy sounds of Bon Iver, and the clash of Christmas lights decorating various neighborhood homes.  It is a brilliant moment.  And I am reminded to glory in that moment, to take it slow, and to marvel at the Santa "Jack in the Box" that stands in our neighbors yard amidst their collection of other "christmas goodies" on display.  Sometimes this time of year can feel a little overwhelming.  Stepping into a mall can feel like sipping a vanilla,  double chocolate frappacino with extra caramel and whip cream.  Sickeningly sweet.  You can cut the air with Mrs. Claus's knitting needles, the atmosphere thick with the sounds of rushing shoppers frantically running into Hallmark or See's Candy to find something to send to Great Aunt Gertrude.  In these moments of feeling overrun with the Yuletide bustle, I usually just console myself with an Auntie Annie's butter and salt pretzel and call it good. Merry Christmas to me.
I guess the point I am getting at is I was thankful last night to have a four year old redirect my attention to the things that matter, to the things that make this season special, like spending time with two people that I love very much, finding beauty in the light displays, and making some sense out of the chaos that occurs on a daily basis in this life.  And those Christmas lights really are a beauty to behold on these nights where the cold bites your bones.  I shouldn't judge when I see a tacky light display paired with a tasteless blow-up Santa and Raindeer.  Even though I usually go for a classy snowglobe yard display myself, I can recognize that at least that household decided to shed some more light in the neighborhood.  Light that drives away some of the deep dark.  Yes, tacky christmas lights can do that.

Japanese Food

I had a lot of subjects tumbling through my head this morning, but find myself feeling less than inspired after wrestling with technology for the last half hour to locate and sign onto my blogger account.  This just goes to show how infrequently I am publicly sharing my musings.  But I've managed to find my account and the frustration of wasted time is slowing easing off to the corners of my mind.
I get really sensitive when it comes to time; how I spend my time, how I waste my time, what I want to accomplish with my time...
A few minutes before my break through, I found myself getting more and more tense and annoyed as the minutes went by.  My original intent clouded by the annoyance of wasted minutes passing.  I started to feel invaded, seeing the expanse of time that I thought I had, start to shrink, wasting away.  I get really growly and territorial about it actually.  Ben has seen it happen; a pinched look comes over my face, my eye brows get furrowed; I am not in a huggable mood.  Actually, I'm going to move on from this subject now.  I'm getting more irritated as I write about wasted time.  It feels like a waste of time.  Ugh.

Sometimes, well actually most of the time, it is best to start where we are at.  I'm talking about how we move forward, how we grow, how we inspire change within our lives.  I'm talking about healing.  I work in a field where this term may get expressed, but doesn't necessarily get properly explored.  More often I hear, "I want things to get better,"or "I don't want it to be so hard."  To me, the term "healing" has a lofty, holy sound to it.  I associate "healing" with miracles, with stories that I have heard of cancer mysteriously disappearing, with alcoholics turning their lives around.  I haven't had these extreme circumstances occur in my life, but I have recently started looking at the term "Healing" and how it applies in my own life.  I consider myself be a person who is constantly evaluating her priorities, and looking at how to better herself.  A few days ago, I had a conversation with a dear friend over Japanese food (because lots of good conversations occur in cozy corners with good food).  With her wise methods, she asked me questions like, "Am I ok with accepting myself simply where I am in this moment?", and "Can I ease off of the "I should do's?"  That last question stopped my in my tracks.  I tell myself "I should's" all the time.  I should work out consistently everyday.  I should be able to figure out why my knee continues to bother me.  I should be able to overcome lack of motivation to go to work.
It's constant.  That's a big part of why I freak out about time so much too!  I tell myself, "I should be making the most of every moment!!  The world could end at any moment!!!"  (Which doesn't make any sense right?  Because then I suppose it wouldn't really matter either way...)  It's stressful.  It's counter productive.  Yet I beat myself up like that all the time.  How does healing come out of that kind of thinking?
I work in health care.  I see people everyday who are looking for healing in their lives.  And I am part of a health culture that tells people all the things that they "should do" to get better.  What they should try, what they should give up, what they should be willing to do.  Parents come to the clinic looking for answers because they have tried everything.  They have been telling themselves all the "should do's" that they "should" perform for their children.  It is exhausting.  I wonder if for the most part, if this quest for healing is pursued in all the wrong ways. Yes, of course, we want things to be better, to be less painful, to be happier.  But I wonder what it would look like if we could answer the question, "Can I accept where I am in this moment?"  That is where the cryptic and mysterious nature of healing comes into play.  In those moments where acceptance and peace reign, perhaps healing can grow in our lives.  

Patterns

Patterns.  I am rather attached to them.  More than I realize I think.  Various sock patterns...daily patterns and rituals, i.e. the daily morning brew...patterns of behaviors.  The last one is the one that I found myself analyzing during a conversation with a friend over sushi.  I mean, why wouldn't you have that type of a conversation while utilizing chopsticks?
So, yeah, these patterns.  I'm a goal setter.  I can't get away from it.  I just am.  I make them up in my head all the time.  I'm a couple months into 2013 and as I stop and think about what has already occurred this year, I remember the "pursuits" or "hobbies" that I set out to pursue with reckless abandon.  First I was struck with knitting frenzy. It was all I could think about and do in my spare time. And I conquered.  I finished the project that I had my heart set on completing.  Next up were the books that I wanted to finish reading.  They had been on my list for several months, and I focused intently on reading them through.   Although I'll admit that I realized midway through "The Happiness Project," that I wasn't the type of reader cut out for that author's sort of writing, and I abandoned ship quickly.  Life is too short to be stressed out while reading for FUN.  Type A personality + Search for Happiness = Fun-Sucker.  (Sorry to anyone out there who finds her work inspirational...)  
Once I had navigated through that period of my leisure life, I decided to commit time to practice Yoga.  Which brings me to today.  I am still pursuing the practice.  And while I am committed to doing Yoga as much as I can, I have noticed that I have stuck with this new interest more than the others.  Looking to integrate the practice more into my life.  I'll come back around to the knitting, and who knows, maybe I'll be just as intense.  I'll complete that crowl if it kills me. Perhaps it's the chase that keeps me engaged.  The pursuit of mastery.  I want to nail that inverted pose.  Grrrrr.  Two years ago I wanted to eat "raw" an entire year.  Slightly intense.  Perhaps not as easily accomplished as attending Yoga at least twice a week.
The point is this.  I want to engage in a lifestyle and the pursuits that follow, that are sustainable.  Sometimes there is a time in life for compulsive duct tape wallet making, or even doing a "cleanse" for a short period of time, however the abrupt stop and go of it, the guilt that sometimes comes after the burnout, are things that I can do without.  I don't expect to do without those things completely.  I also am trying to be realistic.  That's just life. We get out of balance.  We binge.  We procrastinate.
In the end, let's try to cut ourselves some slack and take it slow.  I think I'll do child's pose while I'm at it.

Tryin not to rush it...

It's amazing how you can blink and a year has passed.  That's what seems to have happened as I take in the changing season of fall.  Rather than try to play a game of catch-up and summarize this entire last year, I think I'll just focus on today.  Today I forgot what I where I was driving, in the midst of noticing the vibrant colors of the trees that are changing with the season.  I got half-way down the block, past the house of the client that I was attempting to visit.  Nature is distracting.  In a good way.  Like Mona, the cat that I currently reside with.  Kinda good anyway.... On a regular basis, she pounces on my feet, knocks over my water cups, and gets into my Hotlips pizza box if I don't watch her closely.  It's alright after I get over being momentarily irritated.  But yeah, those trees.  They got me in a good way today.  I came across this quote this afternoon, that reads something like, "Keep pace with nature.  Her lesson is patience."  Or something to that effect.  That's how I interpret the message anyway.  I just really like the first part of that statement.  Keep pace with nature.  She changes, but doesn't rush.  She just is. And that is beautiful.

And along came a spider...

Right off the bat, I woke up this morning to an unexpected visitor perched on my bedroom ceiling.  As my sleepy eyes cleared, I saw Mr. spider gingerly making his way to the space of ceiling that is directly over my sleeping area.  Fighting off the urge to close my eyes for a few moments more rest, I continued to eye the spider staring down at me from the ceiling.  There I was, locked into a staring contest.  In a horrified fascination I kept my eyes glued to his position on the ceiling.  Through my mind various thoughts tumbled.  I argued that he needn't pull any fast moves on me; I pleaded that he stay where he was; I wondered at how he had found his way to my room.

If anyone has ever had a staring contest with a spider, you cannot deny the pure adrenaline rush that occurs during the game play; the anticipation that builds as you and the spider hold your respective stances.  Primal reactions kick in.  Muscle tension builds, as both parties prepare themselves for fight or flight.  And as is naturally to be expected, the human typically loses his patience and goes in for the kill.  I have never been very clean when it comes to this step.  I usually create more excitement for myself by missing the spider completely when I get brave enough to get a good run at him.  And then of course by the time that I regain my composure to try again, he has backed into an impossible corner and has scrunched himself soooo small that my attempts to finish him off are in vain.  

For all you spider lovers out there who keep a jar by your bed in order to gently "trap" the spider and set him back outside amongst your tomato plants, I understand that you might hold an opposing view to my assertions this morning.  You may argue that the spider didn't choose to have his space invaded by man, that we have developed his natural habitat for our own benefit, that we didn't ask him for permission.  You may make excuses for the spider's behavior, claiming that spiders are on the receiving end of our brutality; that they are merely acting out of fear and that we assume the worst in their behavior.  Before this morning I might have agreed with those valid points.  

As I contemplated my morning visitor, I waited to see what his intentions were.  I had my suspicions, but I kept them to myself and waited.  I didn't have to wait long however.  Suddenly he dropped.  Just let go.  There was no gentle repell on a silver single thread of webbing.  He broke our stare down and made a break for it.  Before my eyes, I witnessed Mr. spider attempting to jump me.  I say attempted because my primal muscle reactions quickly sprang into action.  Sleep suddenly had no more hold on me.  I was awake.  There was no doubt that I was now completely in my day.  No turning back.  

So what do you have to say for yourselves spider activists?  Drat, I didn't catch the whole thing on tape...however I don't know if there are any excuses that can be made for my spider the stalker's behavior this morning.  As far as I'm concerned, that is about as pre-imptive as you can get!  That sneaky son of a gun got himself into prime position and tried to take advantage first thing in the morning, folks.  I was not ready with toilet paper in tow for that one.  He knew what he was doing.  And I rest my case.

How to catch curve balls

Human adaptation.  Bones that grow and heal themselves, perhaps morphing into a different shape or outgrowth, but none-the-less repairing themselves.  That is what I keep telling myself that my toe must be doing.  It's up to something down there.  Probably no good, but I like to think that I can be my own doctor.  I'm not eager to pay a visit to the ER for my pinky toe.  So I'm deciding to wait it out.  And the song runs through my head singing, "Don't it always seem to go that you don't know what you've got till it's gone..."
It's amazing how far you can get in a conversation with someone by mentioning that you have broken something.  Even if it is just a pinky toe.  Yesterday a few members of the group that I was hanging out with misheard and thought that I had broken the big toe.  The misinterpreted information was corrected near the end of our gathering, but I think it made the conversational part of the interaction much more engaging.  Think of it...the big toe!  And there I was describing how I had done my own buddy taping and everything, and was not going to get it checked out!  What an exciting life.
So I return to the topic that has captured my thoughts for the past few days.  I'm recalling the frame of mind that I was in yesterday because once again, I have changed today and it's hard to remember  where I left off.  It's like trying to find your place again in a book that you didn't use a bookmark to mark your place.  Plus the weather is entirely different today and that changes everything.
So...let's check in with Christina this morning.  I'm feeling hopeful...slightly anxious...fighting the drop effect that the coffee I decided to drink is providing me...I'm working to hold onto inspiration...  This is because I crave the "flow" feeling that only occurs when I am engaged in a task that takes all my attention for that moment in time.  When "flow" occurs, I am not focused on those "feelings" that take up  brain space and leave little room for productivity.  At least that is how I observe the impact of my feelings to be from an objective standpoint.  And it is here in this moment as I write that statement that I realize that I am judging the presence of those feelings.  It's funny.  I hear people refer to themselves as rational...logical thinkers...in control of their feelings...but when it really comes down to it, am I not still basing the decisions that I make on how I feel or don't want to feel?  When I hear a person say that they don't let their emotions get in the way during times of stress or sadness, are they not still basing their decision on the presence of emotion?  They change their behavior with the intent of avoiding the experience that they associate with the emotion.  Hmmm...  A lot of the time when a person is considered "emotional," automatic judgements come to mind about the person's strength of mind or stability...  I might insert here another way of looking at the idea of "letting emotions take over."  It could be considered instead as an act of bravery.  An act of heroism that confronts the feelings that a particular situation evokes and allows them room to exist.  Rather than negating the presence of emotion, and in a sense running away while standing still, the so-called feeing person demonstrates their skills in the midst of the battlefield.  In the presence of loneliness, anger, sadness, and despair, they wrestle with the giants and find clever ways to insert happiness into their existence.  I'm just saying...

Mind games

I've changed my mind several times since April 12.  I don't even think I'm the same person anymore.  Consistency is not my middle name.  (I would not want to admit that on a job application...)  It occurred to me last night in the midst of conversation between friends, that I've been on auto pilot.  This is evidenced by several symptoms.  One of them being that I have utterly failed to keep up my blog writing habits.  Although, technically I didn't pass the 21 day minimum for habit formation and therefore I can blame human nature for that one.
It's funny to me how (and anyone is free to correct me if I am wrong,) as human beings we spend so much time thinking about what we need to change about ourselves.  This has been on the forefront of my agenda for an unspecified amount of time.  For example, I made a goal to myself that I would eat RAW for an entire year.  I have long since fallen off that wagon.  So much so that I have swung to the other end of the spectrum...experimenting in the meat department.  I did not see that outcome coming.  I suppose the larger the risk you take, or change you make, the more dramatic the fall back can look when the momentum declines. I've tried not to put an agenda on my goal setting, because life changes all the time and I want to keep my adaptation skills sharp.
In the spirit of moving on and shaking off the dust from my sandals, I would like to leave old forgotten goals behind and take on the heartier challenge of embracing myself as I am.  This proves to be a most daunting task all of its own.  Stripping off all the would be's, should be's, am trying to be's...  It is here that we see ourselves in our present form.  Just quietly observing what we are.  Not putting any expectations around it.  (whoops...this is turning into a "mindfulness" session...)
What a natural way to live.  I'm going to have to return to this idea of observing myself, rather than trying to change myself.  There are several ethical, spiritual, and philosophical questions that it poses.  How does that effect my overall spiritual view?  How does it effect my view of myself as a Christian?  How does it effect my view of people's ability to change their behavior and become either better or worse?  And so the questioning continues...so the mind ponders...so the story goes.