Doing Less

These days of December have been difficult for me – the winter months are all about rest, recovery from the rest of the year…not doing anything in payment for the frolics of the spring, summer and fall. And here’s me, unsure of what to do with myself in this “resting” period. Resting means…not moving, right? So when I read books, it’s resting, right? Knitting is resting, right? Writing is resting, right?

Well, if the mind and body are connected, when I engage my mind, my body is engaged as well. So reading, knitting and writing are not resting.

To rest. What does that mean, exactly? Can I watch movies and rest? Can I meditate and rest? Is it resting if I just lie here, unengaged with my friends, but present in body? This resting thing is not exactly boring, but the idea of the things I could be producing with all this downtime floods my mind whenever I ask myself what I’m going to do today, whenever I think of what I’m not doing.

After two weeks of concentratedly doing less, or nothing at all, the urge to Do Something is still strong. I’m afraid that I really will like not doing anything, that I will turn out to be a lazy bum, and that doesn’t sit well with my expectations of myself, or what I think others expectations are of me. In one sense, doing less is one of the hardest things I’ve tried to do, just in the way it makes me aware of what I fill my days with and how little it all mean anyway. Emails, reading books for fun, knitting hat after hat for no other reason than to be productive, ‘just for something to do’ – it makes me realize how little I need to do, and hey, maybe I’m a little afraid of myself, or of the nothingness within that’s not taken up with an activity. An activity that distracts me from myself, from seeing me as I am, a person who is trying not to pay attention to the elephant in the middle of the room. What is the elephant?

The nothingness within myself.

Does everyone have this?

Does everyone distract themselves? Seems like it.

I want to think there must be more to me than nothingness.

What if there’s not? What if all I can do is experience each moment and that will be enough to fill me, occupy me?

Life would be simpler.

Meditation would be quieter.

I could think about things other than myself.

It could be a good thing. This stillness, this nothingness within me, within all of us.

The world would be quieter. You could hear the birds outside, the snow falling. People laughing in the tent next door. Humanity.

Instead of insulating yourself.

We all insulate ourselves. From ourselves and the rest of the world. Because we’re scared of ourselves?

Is this why everyone gets depressed in the winter? Distractions are distilled to their essentials in winter, until we’re finally confronted with ourselves.

That is what I’m confronting; myself. So many are afraid to look at themselves, but what better time of year?

With this, I’m taking a hiatus from blogging. I don’t feel the need so much to write, more of the need to Not.

Not do.

It’s difficult, let me tell you. I’ve already got plans for my non-blogging time.

Like nappingJ

Being Me

I just figured out that I’ve actually been doing, been living the life I want. I like my life. I like myself. I set up my room the way I want it to be. I set up my schedule the way I want it to be. I do the things I like, like knitting, cooking, walking in the woods. Hanging out with my friends. Without planning it, without even realizing it, I’ve set up the ideal life. I am where I want to be and I’m happy with that. I may be a little tired, sleepy even, I may be a little manic, I may be still searching (for what I don’t know) but I’m here. I’m present, clear, living with purpose (to be happy) and achieving it.

What more could you want?

Well, one thing I’ve been struggling with lately is my energy. I finally feel a little like I used to. This morning I felt the tug of possibility roll me out of bed and hit the ground running. It’s been a year and a half since I’ve felt that. What I realize is that this is just the tip of the iceberg. Continuing to take care of myself, love myself, eat well and exercise correctly is all key to my improvement and maximum self-realization. I realize that whatever I create is just that – something out of my head, no more or less real than the skating rink behind my tent, or the sleep dirt in my eyes. I realize more and more that I create my reality, so whatever I want to have happen, can and will.

I just have to decide.

Waiting and doing nothing is the hardest part. Doing nothing is all relative. In reality, doing nothing is life. I think of myself as a child, the middle child who actually got her chores done for Saturday morning cartoons, who was so concerned with not being lumped in with her “lazy” brother and sister that she did a lot of things she didn’t want to, just to be the ‘productive one’. I was doing those things for my father’s approval, to make my mom happy, to get a good word from my gymnastic coach.

Never for myself.

How far did this go?

I was with a guy for almost six years because his approval meant so much. I was afraid of life without it – afraid of life with myself. I’m beginning to recognize my cycle – I take a turn and reach the exit, that point of self-love and liberation, that self-solidity that I’ve been searching for. Instead of taking the step, leaving the cycle, I find a distraction, I run away. After Dan, I found Charlie. After Charlie, I moved to Bend. After Bend I moved to Yosemite, where I’ve finally become aware of my cycle, where I’ve found friends to help me exit it. I want to stop running. I have stopped running. And I am left with nothing.

I’ve given up climbing. I live far from my family. I realized I don’t want to write literary anything, that I knit to design, not because the process of knitting is that fun, that I read to escape, that I walk to exercise.

Where is the enjoyment in my life? What do I do because I want to?

I cook. I design knit things. I read silly and serious books. I spend time with my friends, usually doing nothing. I’m learning to give myself acupuncture, to evaluate my diet, my condition, my tongue, I’m learning to trust myself.

I’m learning to trust myself.

Because what I just learned, walking back into my tent after crying out my confusion and frustration and fear and sadness to the ever-willing listener and verbal distiller, John, is that what I’ve been doing here is what I’ve wanted to do all along, that all this really is just for me.

I’m not doing it wrong! I’m doing it right! This is my life. And I’m ok with that. I’m ok with whatever I might become because right now, I’m ok. Ondrej of Cone Stand fame explained it to me this summer – he said, “I live in a tent, and I’m ok. I scoop ice cream and say ‘our flavors are chocolate, vanilla, strawberry and cookies-n-cream’ and I’m ok.”

What I didn’t realize then, John reiterated for me now. It doesn’t matter what I end up doing with my life, as long as I’m happy. I could be an ice cream-scooper, a garbage collector, a window-cleaner, the president of the United States, a roomskeeper, a knit designer, I could be paid to speed-read bestsellers, it doesn’t matter. What matters, all that matters, is that I’m happy.

And happiness is a process. Just as I change every day, every second, so does what I like, what I get enjoyment from. You could call it an evolution of tastes, except my tastes at the end may not necessarily be better/more sophisticated than what I started with. It’s all relative anyway, ennit? It’s just somebody’s opinion that making $100,000 per year is better than $10,000. That having a family is better than staying single, that traveling the world is better than living in the same place.

My current reverie (from this morning’s possibilities inspiration) is to live sustainably on a farm, producing all that I need to live, with a group of my friends, working in our small way to live in harmony with the land. Sounds peaceful, doesn’t it?

Thank you, John Blue, for listening to me. I suspect that you make this process much easier than if I was on my own. For that matter, thanks to all Yosemites and the other people in my life – Bree, Marina, Kelly and Ivy, Lasey and Shannon – thank you for sharing in my life with me.

Practicing Life

Practice life.
Every moment can be perfect in its imperfection. I am every moment changing, growing, becoming more myself, deciding who I want to be. When I spend a perfect day, it's an experience. When I botch it, when I speed through Curry Store picking out all the vegan junk food which I then speed-consume solo, when I hate myself for putting down my friends; a thousand "when's" - it is a lesson. Granted, one I learn and re-learn daily, hourly, but it does not make or break me. Eating a cookie is not going to kill me. It might even be better that I gave in to the temptation and experienced sugar bliss and sugar crash, because it strengthened my resolve to do better. That's all you can do, right?

Breezy introduced me to the idea of practicing living. I was beating myself up about not doing enough, not making enough progress with my health and happiness, when I was feeling frustrated at being frustrated. Now with the help of Goenka's equanimity, which is observing things as they are without reacting, and Breezy's "practice life" philosophy, I feel much better about everything I choose to do.

And everything is a choice. A conscious choice to an action or non-action - whatever it is, it doesn't matter, what matters is me making the choice. Ah, these decisions!

Everything I do now is a sign of my improvement - the fact that I make conscious choices to eat junk or to read all day. The way I consider what I eat so carefully, who I talk to, how I spend my time, the way I make healthy practices my life - and make a conscious effort not to overextend myself.

Oh, it's hard, and I slip often. I'm finally feeling more energetic and with a clearer head and I want to do something with this. I have a hard time stopping myself from taking a big hike or claiming I want to climb something. The physical exertion and exposure to the cold would take me back to dragging-ass. I feel too good, I like myself too much for that. I'm realizing that I'm here to take care of myself, to love myself as much as I can, as well as I can, so that there will still be ME left when I'm 40 or 50. What's funny is the way I used to be so upset with Dan about using his body up and I didn't consider myself at all. It's true that in comparison, I'm a shining example of health and balance.

But I don't compare myself anymore. One of those changes I'm making.

Back to me and my health, my happiness, and my life practice.

Frustration

Practicing life.

I am not perfect. I am only me and I slip. It seems like for every two steps forwards, I slide one back, and then I have to make that progress all over again. I'm not sure hwere I am, and I'm having a hard time appreciating myself, my journey, my capabilities and strengths and triumphs. I've turned to eating again, of which I'm not proud, and of slighting my friends because of my own insecurities. I'm tired of not being able to see my progress.

More on Me

Real Friends:

We have already dipped into November, the month of what – true winter onset? I’m not sure.

It’s turned cold here in Yose, it feels chilly all the time now, and it’s much nicer to be inside than out. That doesn’t mean that it’s wet or unpleasant outside, however. I saw an amazing sunset last night just as I headed off to work, staffing the Loft (the employee rec area) for some live music and pool. I took my time going to work, marveling at the golden glow lighting up Half Dome and the Royal Arches, delighting in the intensity of the colors, the way it gathered up so much of the autumnal feel and washed it across these granite faces.

I live here. Yosemite. I get to see this every day. I get to experience the beauty of Yosemite every single day. The air I breathe is different from anywhere else, the landscape that makes up my backyard is some of the most powerful on the West Coast and this is my HOME. I live here!

I’m convinced there’s something about Yosemite that draws amazing people. I am surrounded with more amazing people than I can keep track of and hang out with. People here are more connected with the earth and themselves and maybe that’s why drinking is such a problem here – people get too close to the truth of themselves and they either face it and add to the amazing community here, or they turn to alcohol to hide themselves away.

I just saw Brian, a guy I worked with at Deschutes Brewery who told me about Yosemite, and he mentioned climbing. He’s been here in Yosemite off and on for the last eight years, and he said that he’s one of the few employees who still gets out and enjoys the park. But, he hurt some tendons, couldn’t climb for a while, and found himself sucked into the drinking culture. He said, “If I can’t climb, what else is there to do? Nothing.”

One part of me thinks, ‘what with such a narrow view of the park, of the world, that when the one thing he likes to do is gone, he falls back on drinking, which it sounds like he doesn’t like to do, but doesn’t know how else to spend his time.’ I wonder if this narrow thinking is a result of being in the narrow Yosemite Valley for so long? The narrow walls of the valley could have an adverse feng-shui effect. It could be where he chooses to live as well – BoysTown is the drinking capitol of the Park, party central, where if you don’t drink, you don’t belong.

Actually, all of me agrees, because I’ve been doing everything but climbing. I meditate every day, sometimes twice when my schedule allows, and I practice qigong and taiji, and I hang out with my friends, mainly John and Marina, but Kelly and Ivy too, all of whom are my neighbors here in the Valley, which is just one of the ways in which everything is working out for me here. In a way, my life is the exact opposite of Brian’s, in that he gets what he wants by going out and doing (climbing, for example), and I get what I want by doing nothing (nothing by conventional standards of production or accomplishment. As if you can measure personal development). The difference is that I consciously choose to do nothing (produce nothing) whereas Brian feels stifled when he can’t accomplish. Does that mean that when my life is nothing by choice that I have more freedom than Brian ever does? Because I’m starting from nothing, I have no expectations for what I should be doing, or producing, or accomplishing, and whatever happens that day is a conscious choice I made and put energy into. If Brian had plans, say, a climbing tick list, and he got hurt, meaning he couldn’t climb, then every day that he can’t accomplish his goals he builds up more expectations? More frustration? Because his view of what there is to do for recreation is so narrow, he ends up unable to enjoy his free time when his idea of recreation isn’t possible.

This is me rationalizing me not climbing, or writing, or knitting, but putting time into meditation, qigong and taiji. I realized the other day that for me to be able to love myself, I have to walk the walk and value myself, put myself first, which means doing things that add to me, make me feel good, healthy, and lately, proud of myself, all of which make me like myself. One thing I struggle with is the idea of making progress on myself, which implies that I’m not perfect already, just as I am. As long as I keep doing things I know are detrimental, such as eating a whole package of cookies, I am not proud of myself, and I don’t like me. When I keep in mind loving myself, I don’t do these things. I decided that while reading, knitting and writing are all activities I enjoy, they drain my energy. Meditation, qigong and taiji are also things I enjoy, and they add to my energy – when I practice any of those things, I actively add to my store of energy, my ability to know myself, my wholeness, and loving myself, which I believe is the key to my happiness. The sooner I can love myself, the sooner I’ll know who I am, what I really like, and what I might like to use my energy for.

You may ask, why don’t I knit, write or read, since those are things I say I enjoy?

Well, I still do. But my priority has shifted, and my focus. My priority is myself, my focus is on the process, the journey, and not the end product. Thus my focus is on loving myself as I am right now, with all my imperfect body issues and relationship issues and expectations and everything that makes up me, no matter what it is. As long as it’s me right now, I want to love it.

Gosh that’s hard. It’s so much easier to focus on what I think needs changing to be perfect, except that’s a cycle that will never end – there’s always something to make better. What I need to understand is that I’m perfect as I am right now, without any changes. What I find, however, is that I like myself more the more I let go of the guards, the more I let myself be myself. I think of this as changing myself, but it’s not, really. That doesn’t mean that all these years I haven’t been Anchen; all these years have been a process, making me who I am today as much as I was myself in the past. I just feel a hell of a lot more comfortable with who I am.

Going back to loving myself, I wonder at the way I say I want to love myself, as if it’s a monkey in a cage and I don’t have a key. Well, I’d like to free you, monkey love, but I can’t bend the bars. What is the key for me? Where am I hiding it? What does it take to find it? Why can’t I simply love myself, if I say I want to? Do I really want to or am I just saying it?

At the Vipassana retreat, I spoke with the Assistant Teacher, Marie, and told her my pain while sitting felt like torture. She told me that as long as I manage to keep even just one percent of myself equanimous with the sensation that I’m making progress towards liberation. Being equanimous means observing without reacting.

Me loving myself is something I want, even if it just one percent of me wanting it. I wonder if it works the same way?

One percent of self-love is enough to keep trying. It’s worth it. I’m worth it.

Blog entry for the end of the month.

Me and my mom in Oregon at her house.

The end of October and the beginning of something new. The continuation of something. It’s all scary and new and different and wonderful. Do you know how scary it is to simplify your life? To look at your things – let me personalize this – Do you know how scary it is to look at my things, to visualize my life and realize I don’t need any of this stuff? I have crates and boxes and bags and suitcases full of my life, things I may never look at again. I don’t use it, I can hardly remember I have it, yet it doesn’t disappear.

The last two weeks have been busy. Not in the sense of rushing around doing things, although that’s been happening too, but in the sense of mental activity. I’ve been doing my best to not think, however, with my mind, it’s like telling a sumo wrestler not to eat. A big decision on my mind when I came up to Oregon was where I wanted to stay this winter. Should I stay or should I go? Kept running through my brain, just like the song. Being back in Eugene felt like being home – I lucked out with the weather, and everyone, everything was beautiful. I never realized how many beautiful people live in Eugene – there must be a vortex there – and how many cool businesses are there as well.

My family is also in Eugene. I love my family, but I cannot live with them. It’s something about excess – whenever I’m home I eat too much, buy too much, and stop doing whatever healthy exercises I’ve taken up. In fact, there’s not really room for me at home, a sign to me to freaking make up my mind!

Fortunately, I got a call from Yosemite, telling me I have a job this winter staffing events at the Wellness center for employees, which means I’ll get to know the cool people who choose to spend their lives here in the Park. This turned the tide, and I turned my energy towards a cold, wet, dark winter in a National park with people I’ve just met.

Hmm, that doesn’t sound like such a bright future.

I’m living in a National Park this winter. I’m living in a supportive, enthusiastic community and I’m excited to get to know the people who work here year-round. I think I will eventually end up with Eugene as my home base, but until I’m ready to truly settle, I’m in exploration mode, of myself and my environment. How exciting is that?

What I really plan to work on this winter is myself. (I almost said my knitting projects). I will have a space to meditate and be intertwined with a group of people who make this a part of their daily lives, something I’m learning to do oh-so slowly.

And, I’ll have time to design knit projects, since I’ll only be working part-time. How cool is that?

Things I have to admit to: These are things I figured out during my meditation retreat.

I don’t want to write for money – it clouds my mind and changes my motivation. I write for self-exploration and for my own enjoyment, but not to please anyone else.

And…

I climb for the same reasons of self-exploration and enjoyment, and until I can keep them foremost in my mind instead of satisfying my ego, I’m not climbing either. Unless I’m invited out for a leisurely day…who knows.

I’m going to let things happen. I will not force things; I’m not going to demand or make goals or do anything of the sort. I will let life happen to me, and take the routes presented to me, and be happy.

Be happy! That is the key.

Meditation Reflections

Has it really been a month that I've been at a meditation retreat?

Silly question. Yes, I've been at the North Fork Mahavana Vipassana Center for the last month, first to sit (for over one hundred hours, according to our rigorous meditation schedule) and then to serve a ten-day course.

Why am I giving away my labor, you ask?

I asked myself the same question the day I signed on to be a server (the last day of my sit) and again in the middle of my service when I was going through something that made me extremely anti-meditation.

But first things first.

The sit was amazing. Amazingly hard. And painful. Physically painful. I would wake up in the morning with shoulder and back pain, and by the end of the ten days I had constant back pain. What does this have to do with meditation? Well, it seems that my issues, my sankaras as Goenka would call them, manifest as burning, unrelenting pain that starts in my back, along my spine, spreads to my right shoulder blade, my right leg, my right shoulder and after that I had to move and start over.

Ugh.

I realized some things, especially after I started talking on the last day. I tend to exaggerate to try to impress people. I allow the moods of other to influence me, as well as what I perceive to be what they want. For example, I offered a ride to a lady heading to Yosemite, and made sure to tell her that I was being picked up, I didn't know when, but I gave her a time estimate. When my ride didn't show up within that time, I became agitated and annoyed and passed that on to my ride when she did show up.

Ugh.

My group talked a lot about how Goenka annoyed them, how they went through so much emotional stuff. I didn't feel that way, I felt like I was in a lot of pain, and when I allowed myself to really focus on the pain, to get into it, experience it, then memories came up, things I've been holding onto, and I observed myself getting really annoyed