The Soul Goes Dancing

Spring is here, and with it all the new beginnings that the buds on the trees offer. You can feel the energy shift in the air as people, responding to the earth's changes, begun to unfurl themselves. I stumbled across this gem of Rumi's this morning and it seemed so appropriate to how I'm feeling: "Nothing can stay bound or be imprisoned." Aaah . . .

The Soul Goes Dancing

~ by Rumi, translated by Coleman Barks

Did you hear that winter’s over? The basil

and the carnations cannot control their

laughter. The nightingale, back from his

wandering, has been made singing master

over the birds. The trees reach out their

congratulations. The soul goes dancing

through the king’s doorway. Anemones blush

because they have seen the rose naked.

Spring, the only fair judge, walks in the

courtroom, and several December thieves steal

away, Last year’s miracles will soon be

forgotten. New creatures whirl in from non-

existence, galaxies scattered around their

feet. Have you met them? Do you hear the

bud of Jesus crooning in the cradle? A single

narcissus flower has been appointed Inspector

of Kingdoms. A feast is set. Listen: the

wind is pouring wine! Love used to hide

inside images: no more! The orchard hangs

out its lanterns. The dead come stumbling by

in shrouds. Nothing can stay bound or be

imprisoned. You say, “End this poem here,

and wait for what’s next.” I will. Poems

are rough notations for the music we are.

~Rumi

From: The Soul of Rumi

Photo: "Spring Blossoms," originally posted by Noel Zia Lee

Lessons in expectation

Parenthood is most definitely the hardest best thing I've ever done. While I have never doubted my decision to become a mother, I have doubted just about every other decision I've made, whether it's about returning to work full-time, living in one of the most expensive places in the country, or even moving into a two-story townhouse. Wherever I am in time or place, I almost always can be thinking of at least one other thing that I'd either rather be doing or feel like I should be doing.

It's enough to drive me over the edge -- and it did this week. I completely lost it, sobbing hysterically for about twenty minutes and continuing to have bouts of weeping periodically throughout the day until the emotion had finished draining from my body. It was an incredibly freeing experience. I realized I had been carrying around with me all of these expectations -- mostly of myself -- and every time I didn't live up to one (which was practically constantly), it was adding a small burden. Those small burdens had multiplied until I was nearly crippled beneath their weight. The release of emotion enabled me to drop that weight, and it was like I was suddenly filled with helium -- I felt so light yesterday I was nearly giddy.

Nothing had changed in my external experience. If anything, yesterday was an even crazier day -- not only did I have back-to-back meetings, I had overlapping meetings, and a doctor's appointment that included my second blood-draw of the week. When I went to pick up a prescription last night, I found out I have a deductible on brand-name scrips, and I had to spend over $100 to get this one out of hock. My response? Laughter. I walked through the day so lightly that I actually enjoyed myself. I let go of my expectation that I would get anything done, and somehow found the time to be productive in the midst of all of the meetings.

I have to laugh at myself for how many times I've had to learn this lesson the hard way. But until I truly *get* it, I suspect it will continue to keep coming up. In the interim, I'm enjoying my newfound lightness, and the way it enables me to stay fully present in my time with my son. And nothing could be a greater gift than that.

Photo: "when expectations are reversed," originally uploaded by psyberartist

Friday funny

An engineer's guide to cats--appropriate for "normal" people too. I find that laughing out loud clears my system like nothing else. Enjoy!

Do not say that I'll depart tomorrow

Do not say that I'll depart tomorrow
because even today I still arrive.

Look deeply: I arrive in every second
to be a bud on a spring branch,
to be a tiny bird, with wings still fragile,
learning to singin my new nest,
to be a caterpillar in the heart of a flower,
to be a jewel hiding itself in a stone.

I still arrive, in order to laugh and to cry,
in order to fear and to hope,
the rhythm of my heart is the birth and
death of all that are alive.

I am the mayfly metamorphosing in the
surface of the river,
and I am the bird which, when spring comes,
arrives in time to eat the mayfly.

I am the frog swimming happily in the
clear water of a pond,
and I am also the grass-snake who,
approaching in silence,
feeds itself on the frog.

I am the child in Uganda, all skin and bones,
my legs as thin as bamboo sticks,
and I am the arms merchant, selling deadly
weapons to Uganda.

I am the 12-year-old girl, refugee
on a small boat,
who throws herself into the ocean after
being raped by a sea pirate,
and I am the pirate, my heart not yet capable
of seeing and loving.

I am a member of the politburo, with
plenty of power in my hand,
and I am the man who has to pay his
"debt of blood" to my people,
dying slowly in a forced labor camp.

My joy is likes pring, so warm it makes
flowers bloom in all walks of life.
My pain is like a river of tears, so full it
fills up the four oceans.

Please call me by my true names,
so I can hear all my cries and my laughs
at once,
so I can see that my joy and pain are one.

Please call me by my true names,
so I can wake up,
and so the door of my heart can be left open,
the door of compassion.

~Thich Nhat Hanh, from Earth Prayers

Photo: "Peacock Butterfly in the morning," originally uploaded by Hans-Peter

Friday smilez

see more crazy cat pics

Blossoming

I already feel like I've been on a roller coaster and it's only 9:30! I woke up this morning really tense, my whole body aching from head to toe. I'd had a long night of not sleeping well, presumably because my back hurt but substantially because I've had underlying money worries all week. I dragged myself out of bed a little before 6, set myself up on the couch with an ice pack, and started to do my morning pages. I grumbled for a little while but finally just started asking myself questions. What is it going to take for me not to let stress show up in my body? What do I need to learn in order to kick my money issues once and for all? What is the source of this fear that I can feel rumbling around in my tummy?

The bottom line? As Marianne Williamson says, "Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure." The more I recognize that I need to take risks, the push myself out of my shell, to claim my power, the louder the voice of fear becomes in my head. But as Anais Nin said, "And the day came when the risk it took to remain tight inside the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom." I know that this change is necessary and I know that now is the time and I know that I am ready to live my life like Ellis suggests: "How would it be if everything that you thought you knew / Was turned upside down opposite from your point of view / How would you feel if the ground was really the sky and all of this / time you've been walkin' when you coulda been flying." Yeah baby, yeah!

So I got out a pad of paper and wrote down each of my fears on its own page. Then I went back and added the old patterns that surface, enabling those fears to gain footing in my consciousness. I took my 11 slips of paper, a pile of pillows, and a whiffle bat and I bashed each fear or pattern. Hallelujah! The paper was really too light for this process and so it would float up in the air, which immediately made me laugh. So I kept bashing and laughing and bashing and laughing until I felt completely filled with love and light and laughter. The weight of those fears and patterns had lifted. I danced around my living room for a little while, high on the feeling of lightness, then scooped up the slips of paper and held a burning bowl ritual. I took the slips one by one, stated my intention for what I am now accepting in my life, and watched the words burn away, going back into the nothingness from whence they came. When I was done, I took out my sage and smudged myself and my apartment, acknowledging that today is a new day, and that I am starting fresh.

I find ritual soothing, a way of getting a message out of my head and into my body. While it might not be necessary in order to affect change, for me it feels like one of the better tools in my toolbox, a tried and true method of getting things to move in a direction that feels good. Like anything else, it's a process, and I may need to do another ritual next week, next month, or even tomorrow, but for right now, I feel free to fly. Namaste.

Which way is up?

Such a busy, crazy, wild, roller coaster week. Just got home from "Little Shop of Horrors," the story come to life as a musical. It was a nice cap to this week full of many ups and downs and lefts and rights. This has been a good experience in LIFE and what happens when we're asked to just flow with it. One day I can barely tell where I end and the universe begins, and the next my back is out and I'm having to ice and limp around and be gimpy. The day of resistance was followed with a day of such flowering, such beautiful synchronicity. The huge blow up fight with Sean turned into a mega-opportunity for healing for us on many levels. I've had more than my average amount of socialness combined with much, much alone time. I've had days where I didn't want to talk to a soul and days where all I wanted to do was reach out and touch the world and the world touched me back. What a week, eh?

So just a short note full of love and light and laughter. I am still here, preparing myself and looking forward to what next week will bring. Namaste.

Music makes the world go round

I've spent a substantial part of the day today working. Shocking, I know. I'm really enjoying freelancing because it gives me something a little different to sink my teeth into each day. Today, however, what I enjoyed the most was the opportunity to sit in one place for most of the day listening to music. I have such strong associations with the concept of "work" not being fun -- even though I always laughed a lot and made having fun at the office a priority -- that I felt a little guilty having enjoyed this background aspect of my workday. Yes, something for me to eradicate before I create my next work experience, because I genuinely believe that when your work is play, you are more productive and happier to boot.

Not really surprising after my giddy post last night, I'm enamored with Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova. I made myself a "Falling Slowly" station on Pandora and have been listening to it for the past few hours. It's given me additional joy by reminding me of songs I love by Damien Rice (Cold Water), Rosie Thomas (Kite Song), Blue October (Into the Ocean), and Colin Hay (Overkill). Across the universe, Ellis, who has the honor of being the most recent musical love of my life, sent out an email update and included a music video she made for one of her new songs. While it is silly and obviously low budget, I absolutely love the song and played it a few times and danced around my office for a bit.

I swear, music makes the world go round. It is one of the primary ways that I connect emotionally with the rest of the world. Each song has its own little universe contained in it full of love and heartbreak and passion and life. A good song fills up me, makes me FEEL in such a way that my heart wants to burst with its emotion. I'll laugh, and cry, and laugh and cry some more, and then replay the song and do it all over again. If I won the lottery tomorrow, I would pick a handful of really talented but mostly unknown singer-songwriters and fund their music careers so that they could share their powerful magic with more of the world.

Who do you love right now? Who knocks you out and makes you want to dance and fills you with passion? Help me in my eternal quest to expand my musical horizons, and thereby my heart and soul. Namaste.

P.S. Happy Birthday, Don!

Room to change

It's Sunday morning and I'm moving a little bit slowly. I've been sitting in bed with my laptop doing my morning pages, checking my email, fiddling around with the blog. Somewhere in the backdrop I was aware of my cat Morgan crying, but that isn't unusual. Morgan is one of those cats who will leave the room that contains everyone else in the family and then cry as if to say, Where is everybody? So my thoughts are somewhere else completely and I hear this sort of funny scratching sound and I think she must have found a bug, which would account for the crying. I look up and instead see Morgan hanging out of the top of my chest of drawers. The front of one of the drawers fell off a while back, so I moved it to the top of the dresser and use it like a shelf for my t-shirts. Morgan had squeezed herself in amongst the piles of shirts, not very well mind you as she ended up falling right back out again. It was so startling I burst out laughing, which of course annoyed Morgan to no end. I tried to apologize to her saying it was just that I had never seen her do anything even remotely like that in all of her six years with us. She's not a jumper, having difficulty even getting up on the couch with grace, and she's not one of those cats who likes to crawl into anything and everything they can fit in. But my cats never cease to amaze me with the crazy new things they come up with, even in the midst of a life that appears to be all routine, and mostly sleep.

The truth is, however, that if we pay attention, the people in our lives can amaze us as well. The reason we don't usually notice that, however, is that we expect them not to change. Have you ever had a full conversation in your head with someone and then you're surprised later when you try to talk to them about it and they have no idea what you're talking about? We think we know the people in our lives so well that we know what they'll say or do around just about anything. The funny thing about that for me is that I am so invested in my own growth and work pretty hard to shift the way I interact with the people around me so that I am showing up more authentically -- meaning, it would be challenging for someone to know how I was going to react at any given time because I'm not sure I would know that myself in advance. So why can't I apply that concept to the other people in my life? Now, I'm not saying that we should expect people to change -- that really never works and just leaves us disappointed. I guess all I'm saying is that we should leave them room to change. Don't assume you know what your mother or your brother or your wife thinks about something -- ask them. I suspect they'll surprise you.