Tag: presence

Making Sense of “Distractions”

Distractions…Distractions…

A thousand thoughts in my mind and I can’t pick one of them. If I’d just allow myself to rest, to take the time to unfurl the clenched fists that bleeds onto white sheets and stains its coat with a deep red brilliance, maybe I’d learn that my ego loves the color its left with. I wonder why at times I don’t allow myself time to rest before venturing onto a new task? My mind confounded with new ideas, different revelations, more things to learn, worlds to explore—its intoxicating, exciting, humbling, overwhelming, tiring and then finally…a distraction. 

Distractions feel so beautiful sometimes. They feel like an absorption of complete attention; I’m consumed by the story of another. I wish to be consumed by that which I am distracted by. Whether than is another person, a good book, a beautiful fragrance, the songs my plants sing to me or a reflective piece of art—I’m looking to be immersed in its presence until it absolves my own. 

And I wonder about that. I wonder what it is about the feeling of being absorbed, being selfless in the presence of distractions that a part of me craves? My teacher beckons me to reflect on the ways that I use some of my spiritual energy and natural intuitive processes to be absorbed into another, to merge with them completely and in the process lose myself. Maybe that’s why sex feels like a holy space of connection as opposed to release. A tension that allows for me to break free from performance and be immersed in my body, in the moment, completely merged with another as he loses himself inside of me again and again. Wondering where I end, and he begins—who knows and who cares as we crash into each other until one of us has had enough. 

And in the aftermath, there’s more merging. Now we get to reflect on the experience as we hold each other in our arms. My heart longs for the ability to touch another’s, to listen to a similar rhythmic beat and create our own vibrational tune. To be in love, to be present to another yet distracted from myself.

Maybe it’s my lesson right now to learn what it means to be present in these “distractions”. Instead of losing “me” what if I claim myself in the midst of each moment. What if I witness my thoughts and observe them as they pass through? What if I watch myself choose to learn new things, listen to different music, venture through new worlds? What if I watch as I become absorbed with the “distraction”, losing track of the small “me” but opening to the me that is always deeply connected to all that is. What if I learn to use this merging as a way of merging with The One? 

Distractions aren’t all bad. Sometimes they are beautiful, wonderful, exciting, thought provoking, erotic and damn-right fun. But what if I didn’t need distractions to distance myself from that egoic self? What if I could mindfully merge while observing each moment in a space of presence instead of loss of self. And what if I learned how to stand as fully present with the larger “Self”?

Does it even exist? It must..or how could I think of it? Could I even do it? I must…or why am I asking it? Is it so difficult? Perhaps…but struggle is often worth it. And I’m tired of leaving pieces of myself behind to merge with smaller ones when I know I’m in search of something bigger, something all encompassing, the Oneness I prayed to merge into.

Distractions are distractions…but distractions might be the thing that leads me back home.

Into remembrance. 

Creating the Perfect Moment

I’ve been thinking much about the reality of time. How time is so precious and yet we materialize in and out of its presence, almost forgetting its essence. It’s been 7 months since my partner and I finished our road trip and all I can do is continue to look back at the old pictures, the beautiful moments in time never to be captured again.

 Its actually quite comical, because I was struck by this hauntingly beautiful dilemma after injuring my wrist. After getting off of work, while rushing to eat before leaving for my appointment, I pressed down on my already aching wrist and felt the bones snap into place, moving visibly underneath my skin. Whew! It was a crazy feeling and one that filled me with a good amount of anxiety. So, I left in anticipation and gratitude that I was on the way to my weekly chiropractic appointment with my wrist wrapped in a mesh beige cloth, restricting some of its movement. And yet, with each turn of my steering wheel, a bit of my wrist protested in pain, sore from over usage or even perhaps a misplaced bone. All at once, my ego began to fold in on itself – “I can’t believe this is happening! I hope I didn’t break my wrist; I don’t have any insurance; I don’t have enough money to pay for a hospital visit; I need to save up cash; why would this would happen now” and more and more and more. Until the anxious inner voice became so frantic that it began to blend into the chaos of everything else happening in that moment.

And then, it hit me. First my thoughts began to shift into awareness of my inner worry and anxiety, then curiosity (“I wonder how people who have arms amputated are still able to be content, loving and peaceful? Could I do that?”), to acceptance (“I’ve been on this earth for 25 years, my body has begun its merits of breaking down on me. I’m glad that I really am not my body.”), to just plain laughter. The laughter resulting from a deep knowing that had arisen from the state of affairs. In the midst of the anxiety, turned acceptance, I realized that many of us are only called to gratitude when something goes wrong. When things are right, we exercise this sense of entitlement to that space of peace. When my wrist was not sprained or in pain, I threw it around without even thinking about it. I typed for hours at a computer, flexing the muscles in that very hand without any feeling of exhausting. And I opened many doors, braced falls, held items in this same hand—with this same wrist. Not very often did the appreciation and love materialize for this functioning body part. I mean, why should it, I was working as it should. I hardly even think I was paying attention to it to be completely honest. And so, the laughter ensued, that so often we are so mad, perpetually caught up in the moment with other thoughts, preoccupied with mental worries and fears (that with a bit of release would fade away) that we often miss the preciousness of each moment. That we forgo gratitude for the simple things and forget the miracle of EACH aspect of living.

In the same way I’d travelled for 7 months and began to miss the small moments of driving into a new city, trying new foods, the newness of a blossoming relationship—I missed the full functionality of my aching hand. And in that longing, I realized the importance that presence and gratitude plays in allowing us to cherish each moment as something that is timeless, even as it begins to slip away from us.

In truth, I never marveled as how important being grateful for and counting those simple things mattered until I became a crisis counselor. Depression often starts from huge, (many times) painful moments that capture our attention from the small graces God gives us… Until those small graces don’t even matter anymore, until inner resentment clouds our ability to even see clearly. And its so crazy, so beautiful that it is the small blessings in life that allow for us to have a deeper relationship to our inner-being and God. It’s the recognition of God’s face, this Being’s mastery and compassion in every aspect of Creation that allows for us to practice a deepening in the moment of presence.

It was this presence that allowed for us to return to the Kingdom where our true selves lie and bask in the timeless gift of each moment.

This peace, I wish for each one of us throughout our own inner journeys back into the reality of who we have always been.

Timeless.

PS—Yes, my hand is healing and feels tremendously better. Thank the Creator.

Happy Holidays

Xx

Heaven