Old Words, New Questions

The Morning Glory does not shame the Moonflower 
for blooming in the evening.
                                   ~Me (I think)*

*Today's mood: poetic


I don't think self-love and self-acceptance are quite the destinations we make them out to be.

I think that they are things we come to, lose, and need to be reminded of again and again.

And the messages are carried to us in so many ways: 

🔼

in the lyrics of songs

in sayings

in the scenes of a show

in still moments

in flowers

in the clouds in the sky

in a moment

in a memory of a moment

in a smile

in a sparkle

in a laugh that makes you cry

in a story

in a word alone

...etc...

🔽

This week a word has come to my attention in a whole new light: karma.

In the world I live in, it is usually used like this: "Karma's a bitch."

How often do we hear someone say that in a moment of pain?

Uttered almost as a curse.  As a threat.  A protection, perhaps?

And, yet, if karma is meant to be the act of summoning to ourselves the occurrences, and the people, that teach us our hardest lessons to learn-

the ones we learn through pain and struggle-

the ones we often turn away from again and again-

the ones that offer the most potential for growth-

is it an irony that, as it's being uttered, the karma existing within the actuality of the moment isn't being seen?

And what of dharma?

If it is what allows for celebration- of life, of love, etc- would it be beneficial for it to be constant?

Or could it, like physical celebration, burn us out if not given a rest?

And in this way, do these things not come again and again?  Neither of them being constant?

And in this way, does it not allow for those reminders to be many and needed?

And in this way, does the ebb and flow of pain and joy not seem perfect?

Rinse, Rinse, Repeat

"What time are we upon and where do I belong?"

                                        ~Witch Baby by Francesca Lia Block

↠↠↠𑁌🔼𐩓↞↞↞

As my month off comes to a close I find myself reflecting on the lessons it has brought me; what it has taught me about myself.

Each year, as I'm left to regulate my own routine, I learn something new about myself; about how I operate within the confines of my own scheduling.

I usually flounder a bit before finding my footing, then I lean into the reset.

One thing I notice is that the transitions are always where I find the most resistance.

Letting go of what is established- whether it's the work routine or my own- is always hard.

Last year the floundering lasted most of the month, with me finally adopting a pretty kick-ass-take-my-mornings-back routine right before returning to work.

It took me straight through fall and winter with an ease I have never been able to create without desperation necessity as a driving force.

This year the floundering didn't last more than a week as Flora started preschool shortly after my layoff began.

This left me with this wonderful, freeing, three hour window to start fresh each day.

You give me a whole month to plan and I'll run screaming; but now a three hour window?

That I can work with!

Just as it was with last year's established routine (though they came at different times for different reasons), I seem to go through a mourning of its loss.

Sometimes it can be the loss of something only shortly established.

For instance....

Despite the fact that I'm coming back from a three day beach vacation, I find myself looking at this day after as a recovery.

The shifts seem to disable my footing, and the only thing I can seemingly do to recover it is to rest and reset.  

Which leaves me in the space of reflection.

Reflection is a place where I find comfort in the chaos.  A place where I can take time and make sense of what has passed and where I'm at in all of it.

And I see that I've been finding myself in bits and pieces, here and there.

And that each time I a find a piece of me, I also find "not me," too.

I find my fear in the same place I find my inspiration.  

I find my resistance in the same spaces where I lean in.

I ponder what it says; what it doesn't say; how it feels when the honeymoon phase of discovery is over.

I see what I find myself tossing aside; what I find myself holding onto.

Where there is resistance, I recognize and try to  release.

And there is a sense of comfort in the as-isness of it all.

Even in the resistance. Because it is its own lesson.

Rewind.  Reflect.  Resist.  Reset.  Release.  Recover.

Rinse.  Rinse.  Repeat. 

Fibonacci, Baby!

When I consider what I really enjoy and want out of life, I realize that each thing has a duality.

For instance, I enjoy connecting with people- it really lights me up!  And I also need time alone to recuperate.

Or like with creative endeavors- the feeling of self-discovery that comes with creating is almost addictive at times;

but still, I need some concrete, almost mundane, tasks to ground me as well. 

And any of these- connection, time alone, creating, mundane work, etc.- if binged, can leave me reeling.

And I realize it's perfect that way.

In this moment I realize I love this part of myself.

I love it for keeping me in check regardless of any limiting beliefs I've held in the arena of "all or nothing; 1 or 10."

And I realize that even in belief there is a duality.

I realize we can be where we are without it having to be "right;"  without having to prove that

we.are.right.

Beliefs change and are molded just as we change and are molded.

And again I realize this is perfect.

Because just as the universe is constantly expanding- spiraling outward- I believe that these invisible things- like beliefs- are also meant to expand.

While some things in this physical world benefit from limitation, that which is invisible, I think, benefits from this constant expanding.

The
 
      M I C R O
 
                 following

                                the
                 
                                       M A C R O.

⥀ ⬩Fibonacci, baby⬩ ⥁

Reversion Aversion

So I get a text from my little sister asking if I want to buy cookie dough from my nephew for his fundraiser at school.

Pretty harmless, right?

After responding, I immediately pull up Facebook.

"Why did I come here?" I wonder.  Followed by the question, "Am I really numbing right now?"

Because it wasn't a thought that crossed my mind: "I need to numb now."

In fact, no discernible feeling or thought was connected to me opening Facebook.

I read a text.  I responded.  I was on Facebook.  For no real reason.

Which lead me onto thinking other thoughts.

Like, "How does it feel to talk with my sister?"  And better yet, "How does it feel when I engage with my family?"

And I realize it is a mixture.  A mixture of both comfort and anxiety.

So I explore that further.  "Why would I feel that way?"

I realize that these are the people who have seen me at my absolute worst and lived to tell the tale-haha!

And because I've never lost them over any of that trivial bs, I feel an ease of comfort when talking to them because I have no preconceived ideas of judgement.

But then the anxiety.

I believe when I engage with the family I grew up with it has a tendency to take me back to a different time.

A different me.

What I will refer to as "Trailer Park Ashley."

See, Trailer Park Ashley lives in what seems to be a very small world.

Trailer Park Ashley expects everything to be easy, and spends all of her time happily oblivious; alone in her room with her nose in a book.

Trailer Park Ashley has no goals and no stories of success to look up to.

It's a sense of comfort commingled with a sense of loss.

Loss of self.  Of current self.

And none of this is to say that I suddenly start living my life a different way.

And none of this is to say that it's in our best interest to bury the person we once were at the cost of who we want to become.

(Though I dare say it denotes the fact that I am quite afraid to dig her up and let her live)

It's to say that the potential for my energy to shift back to this space creates a resistance in me.

It's to say that, when I feel these things, I immediately want to avoid those feelings and numb out instead.

And it's sneaky, the way these shadows creep in- the shadows of fear and avoidance.

Remember?  There was no thought process or feeling that said "Leave now.  Enter a happier place.  Distract."

It just happened.

It shows me just how terrified I am of being that trailer park girl again.

Of being the person who never has a fulfilling life because it is easier to get lost numbing out.

And then that leads me to ask myself, "How can I stop fearing that version of me?  How can I show it love instead?"

And that's hard.

Because I'm not entirely sure how much of that self should be loved and embraced.

Luckily, the ↣*ding!*↢  light bulb clicks.  I find the love!  I feel the love.

And yet again, I realize, it's about balance.

That part of me can be unhealthy if it reigns supreme.

BUT, the part of me in there....

                               the part that can be loved....
                                               
                                                  is my ability to sink into enjoyment!

I have the ability to completely bask in a feeling- to enjoy it completely.

But the back hand of that is that I also have the ability to completely wallow in a feeling- to get stuck in a place of misery.

This seems to be the most common theme in my life right now.

Being shown fear, and then realizing that balance is key.

Things are never all shadow nor all light.

And the fact that I have categorized most everything as such (without really even realizing it) has been- I believe- a huge part of my suffering.

Well, thank goodness growth doesn't come without struggle.  Elsewise I suppose I'd be a midget.

HA!

Recurring Thoughts

Recurring thought:

"I need to stop expecting everything to be easy."

This isn't the first time I've had thoughts on my expectations,

and how they trip me up.

This time the thought came to me while I was doing yoga.  I was doing what seemed like it should* be an easy pose,

(*ever heard that phrase: "Don't should on yourself"?)

but I was really feeling the strain on my muscles.

For a moment I thought about settling my body into a more comfortable position, but then a little voice popped up and said,

"You've got to quit expecting everything to be easy."

And I realized that this is the expectation underlying all those moments I find myself wanting to numb out and be lazy; when I want to quit; when I want to stop working on something meaningful.

It makes so much sense to me that pain and discomfort bring growth,

yet,

when I'm met with it, I still tend to greet it with those same old patterns; those same expectations.

Maybe not every time; maybe not even as much as I used to.

And each time it just sort of just sneaks up on me.

When it happens, it can take me days, or even weeks to realize what is going on.

And each time, it feels like an "aha!" moment all over again.

It's kind of like one of those series of mystery novels- where the plot may be different, but the overarching theme and resolution are always the same-haha!

(BOOM! Nerdy literary reference for the win!)

And I suppose that life is just made up of these repeating patterns.

 .....Swirl.....by.....swirl.....

You just keep getting brought back each time, being given another moment to reflect;

another chance to practice.

How about you?  Any recurring thoughts lately?

Gifts and Giving

*Disclaimer: this is just me processing through some new thoughts.  This is in no way saying that giving or receiving gifts is either good or bad.  It's just addressing my complicated relationship with, and emotions around, giving and receiving gifts.

I have what I feel is a complicated relationship with gifts and gift giving.

Or maybe it isn't that it's complicated, but that, again, I'm beginning to see another space in my life that could do with a little more pause-and-think;

 a little more balance.

I love how it feels to receive gifts.  I also love how it feels to give gifts.

But maybe not all gifts and giving are equal?

Gifts can be a way to show you care and think fondly of someone and can bring great joy- I don't want to take away from that fact with what I'm going to say with all of this.

But I've also started to think that gifts can also be a way to connect yourself to someone; a way to enter into their life and stake claim.

This could be nefarious, but it could also be because you just don't know any other way to enter into a person's life.  Maybe you're afraid they won't give you a chance to enter in, so you sort of pave the way with gaining their gratitude by giving a gift?

This doesn't have to be a negative thing, either, but I think it's best to be aware of the giver- especially if this is someone you don't know very well.

And by that, I mean that maybe it is best to think on a gift when given.  Don't just jump to the conclusion that this person is completely selfless, and that you are a selfish little bitch if you aren't just as thoughtful. (I'm talking to you there, voice in my head)

It's about context.  And, yet again, it's about balance and boundaries.

Having these thoughts has made me consider my own relationship with gift giving.  It makes me want to make sure I question my own motives in the future.

I mean, how many times have I given gifts because of a perceived pressure?  Or really, guilt? (don't wanna be that selfish little bitch, do I?)

I have reeeeeeeal big issues with gift guilt.

When I am unexpectedly given a gift, but I've never gifted that person or don't have something to give in return, I feel MEGA guilt.

So I'm finding myself examining that.  Where did I learn that?  Why do I feel that way about it?

I know, that at it's root, it has to do with worry that someone is going to think I don't care about them as much as they care about me.

I don't wanna be no selfish little bitch!

And when I feel guilt, I try to hide it before it can be seen by covering it up with overcompensating.

***I feel the need to interject here by saying that this is not the situation with everything.

There are people in my life to whom it gives me great joy to gift.

But it's funny, isn't it?  How we carry things around with us, and never give them a thought. 

I can now see that this is something I've done for a long time, but I've never really given it language.

I'm starting to be able to tell there is a difference of...... feeling, when both giving and receiving, in certain circumstances.

And maybe it's just because I am starting to actually pay more attention to how I feel.  Maybe it's because I actually am starting to slow down and check in more.

I think about how I've had a dad from far away sending me more gifts than I could ever give back. 

The way I've enjoyed the feeling of getting those gifts without really having that relationship cultivated- without knowing how to cultivate it.

The way, as I've gotten older, I've started to notice the guilt around receiving those gifts.  The guilt of calling to say thanks when I haven't called in a while.  The guilt of not calling instead.

(Working through my dad issues-or even realizing I have them- is new to me and a whole other topic entirely.)

I look back and realize that I have lived a good portion of my earlier years thanking strangers: teachers bringing "anonymous" Christmas gifts, people I've never met giving hand-me-downs, estranged sisters who live far away sending me birthday cards with money in them.

My life- at least the formative years- has been a string of half-formed relationships.

And I think these associations would most likely take on a different form had I had the emotional support and engagement that I needed from my closest family during that time.

Instead, those relationships were the ones I was trying to survive (not realizing it then as I do now).

So these things were maybe impressed upon me at an age when I had no way of really understanding or articulating them.  And certainly the ones impressing them upon me didn't either.

So, I suppose, there's a lot to be uncovered going forward. 

Sometimes the uncovering is a bit uncomfortable and I may have a negative, knee-jerk reaction to it.

But sitting back and writing it all out, reading it back to myself, it helps me really see it.

When I started writing this post, it was with this feeling of distrust in others.  This need to point out that not everyone has pure intentions.

But as I began to write, I began to see that even that was only reflecting me back to myself.

Sometimes we can get angry, or even suspicious, and still it doesn't have to mean anyone is bad.

It could just mean that something inside of us is throwing up that alert to be examined.  And I feel that this is exactly what that was.

This was just another reminder from myself- my true self- that I need to

Wait.  Process. 

To not jump to action based on my perception of what is expected of me.

I'm still learning to check in with silent moments; those silent moments I have purposefully carved out.

Now, perhaps, it is time I bring those silent moments with me.  That I keep them in my back pocket, ready to pull out and use before each and every response.

To stop hiding them away, afraid to expose them.

Yeah.

My silent moments can come along with me as my very own safe guard.  Anyhow, it seems like a pretty good conclusion to me.

Everything is a Song

Well, it's been two weeks ("since you looked at me, cocked your head to the side and said I'm angry...")

Yeah, yeah.  I'm a cornball and everything is a song in my head ("in my heeeeeaaad, in my hea-ah-ah-eeead, zohhhhmbie, zohhhhhhmbie, zohhmb-ie-ie-ie"). See what I mean?

That's just how my brain do.

But for real, it's been two weeks.  Last Sunday I'd finished up my yoga and meditation and was feeling pretty good about writing, but then leaving for dinner caught be by surprise (sort of).

Now I'm not entirely sure what I was even going to write about-ha!

Something gleaned during meditation, of course, but what was it.....

Maybe I should stop right now and go meditate and see what comes up....

Eh, but anyway, I have learned some lessons these last two weeks:

1. The more a person reveals their deepest flaws to me, the more I trust them
2. That's not always healthy
3. This is yet another place I'm learning balance and boundaries
4. I need to learn to say "Let me get back to you" more often than I say "Yes/Yeah/Sure/Of course!"

I've heard it said that we draw people into our life for a reason.  I like that.

It helps me think of this situation that way.

When I find myself frustrated with a thing or a person or a situation, I can ask myself "What's the purpose of this?  What can I learn from this?"

And then the thing, the person, or the situation no longer feels like this ominous thing- this enemy.

Then the thing becomes significantly profound*. 

*Say it in a dreamy voice with me now:  PRO-FOOOOUUUUND.

Which is great for me, because my little critter brain- the one that operates on fear and tells me that pretty much everything is a threat- can rest a little easier.

So my lesson this week, more than any of the others, is to take the time to actually evaluate how I feel about someone/something before jumping in.

My husband would probably tell you that this will never happen.  That I do it every time.

And I suppose it's true.  I always think the next one is different than the one before.

But maybe that's what could give me pause in the future.

Maybe when something feels so good and so new, before signing up for something that I can't sustain, I can say to myself:

(in my best Mommy voice) 

"Now, now, Ashley.  I know you're very excited, but let's think about this for a minute.  Maybe there are some things you aren't considering due to your excitement?"

I just have a tendency to be all heart and no head.  I know that isn't a bad thing, I just need to gain some balance in this area of my life.

And just like so many things, it'd seem the lessons I'm learning along this path called life are mostly two steps forward, one step back (we come together 'cause opposites attract, ah you know..).  Ha!  It happened again...

But hey, at least the path will be well-worn, right?