Poem – ocean dream, and boundaries

Posted on August 25, 2013 by betsybeadhead | Leave a comment

I had a dream I was walking in an alien land,
foreign, unknown, different.
No map, no guide.

I found a necklace, an artifact
that spoke of the souls of the place.
It spoke of the time before,
to the spirits that were there, then.
It was a guide, of sorts,
a map of where I was but not a map
of where to go.

As I walked under an old abandoned building
– under, because it was like an oil rig in the sea,
like a house by the shore built on stilts,
the necklace spoke.

It spoke with the voice of an octopus long past.
She spoke to me of that place
of the history,
of what was there in the time before.

I got a sense of green,
the color green of the light
of a July day married with the sea.
The color green
of seaweed and sand,
of silvery fish and shimmering sharks.

It was warm, yet cool,
and safe only because I wasn’t there at that time.
The octopus spoke to me of the time before the house,
when she was there with her octopus friends,
looking up, seeing the sky through the lens of
ocean water.

Now it is desert.
Deserted.
Dry.
Now nothing swims here,
not even a goldfish in a bowl
swimming round and round and round
with no way out.

People moved in after the sea got smaller.
They had a beachside view.
They built their house on stilts
to protect against the sea’s inevitable rise.
They thought that the sea might attack their house,
never realizing that they were the interlopers,
they were the trespassers.

But there was no clash, no war.
The sea never rose.
The sea slunk away
like a bad dog,
like a shamed child.
The sea retreated,
like an abandoned army.

The people in the house saw the
desert begin to bloom around
their seaside resort,
their former seaside resort,
and they too retreated.
They left for another test of wills
on another shoreline,
another boundary.

Why must we explore only to destroy?
Why must we encounter the other
only to suppress, to dominate, to make docile?

These boundaries of place and people are the same to us.

The other is not the enemy,
whether it be the ocean, a forest,
a religion, a language, a culture.

When we try to shape the other
into ourselves
we both lose.

It speaks to our fear
that if it is not-us,
then either they
or we
are wrong.

Time to change that perception.
Here’s to new glasses, new eyes.

Here’s to boundaries becoming welcome spaces
where we encounter ourselves,
just with different faces.

Amen.

Stumbling block, or stepping stone?

Posted on August 13, 2013 by betsybeadhead | Leave a comment

My craft room is the wrong color. When it got the house, it was teal. I quickly painted it fern green. I find green soothing. It is something of a neutral color for me, a default. But then I realized that I wasn’t using the room. It has great light. It has a lot of space. But I wasn’t spending any time in there. I was storing my beads and fabric and paint in there, but not using them there. I’d take them to other parts of the house, usually the living room, and work there.

It has taken me ten years to get back into that room. It was yoga that did it, and it is yoga that teaches me about it. I feel that I’ve wasted a lot of time not using it all this time, but I often feel that. I suspect a lot of that comes from the fact that my parents died young. I don’t want to be wasteful of time, or to assume that I have a lot of time. I think that wanting to have lived a meaningful life is common to most people, and it is hard to have lived a meaningful one if you’ve frittered it away. I’m trying to be mindful. It doesn’t always work. Sometimes it seems there are a lot of unnoticed things that thwart me.

I needed space to do yoga every morning. I needed a space that was big enough for a yoga mat and for me to be able to do some side twists. I have a tiny house. It was what I could afford at the time. Plus, a small house (hopefully) means not accumulating a bunch of stuff. So, this means that the living room is not really big enough. There is room for the mat, but not the side twists. The same is true in the bedroom. I’ve got plenty of room on the porch, but it is outside and I don’t want to be stared at while I’m doing yoga. Actually, I’m very self-conscious about being outside at all, but that is another story.

So I put the mat in the craft room, and I made myself do yoga every morning. I realized that I didn’t want to go in there. Yoga is teaching me to look adversity head on – to not run away from it. Study it. Dig down to the roots. Why am I feeling this way – like I want to run away? Why don’t I want to be in this room? The first and deepest impression was that it was the color. Too dark. Not energizing. It is calming, but a little too much. Now, there is a lot of light from the north – the light is great for painting in the morning. But it just didn’t strike my eyes right, and the color wasn’t inspiring.

I got a book called “Sacred Spaces”, about how to make sanctuaries wherever you are. One of the sections was on feng shui. I determined that something more like a sea-blue, or slate-grey-blue would be better. It would be a pain to drag out everything in that room and repaint it. So I made some suggested amendments to the room. More blue pictures. Seashells. I made a point of closing the closet so the mirror showed. Either it helped, or I thought it did, because I was more likely to want to be in there.

But I’m leaving the walls. Part of it is that I feel that removing all difficulties actually can be a problem. Having an obstacle, having something that annoys me, actually wakes me up. It strengthens me. It keeps me conscious.

I’ve noticed that if everything is fine, I don’t push myself. I don’t stretch or grow. And I don’t pray. When everything is going fine, I don’t seek God nearly as often.

Turns out I’m in really good company. Plenty of people throughout the Bible did that. When things were going bad, they called on God. When things were going great, they forgot about God. Have a pain in your back that you are worried about? Pray. When it stops hurting, you stop praying. Normal.

God likes to hear from us. God wants to be connected to us. It is sad that we often only remember to pray, to connect with God, when things aren’t going well. What would happen if we treated our friends like this? If we only call them when we have something to complain about, the relationship isn’t going to last. God wants to have a relationship with us.

So maybe we should be thankful for the obstacles, and the pains, and the things that annoy us. Maybe they are our rescue. Maybe instead of being stumbling blocks, they are stepping stones.

I’ve decided not to repaint that room. I’ve decided it keeps me mindful of how to be calm and present amidst adversity.

Tuesday Buffet

Posted on July 29, 2013 by betsybeadhead | Leave a comment

There is a difference between seeing and noticing. We see all the time. We rarely notice. We rarely take the time to slow down and really look at what is going on. We are often in such a hurry that we take a glance and then go on, missing most of everything.

It helps to look at stop-motion animation or to take pictures of things as they are growing. I had a project once. I took a picture of the same tree, from the same spot, at the same time every Tuesday for a year. I saw the tree change and evolve, grow and decay from one season to the next. I stood in rain and snow. I changed a little when I did that project. I’d wanted to do it for a long time, and then I finally decided that it was time to start. Then I was committed to it. I posted the weekly picture on my personal Facebook page, and it turned out that my friends looked forward to it.

There was something personally transforming about that project. I don’t know whether it was because I finally got over my inertia (a common malady) or I finally actually noticed that tree, or both, but I changed. I started to look at everything this way, and wonder what else I was missing, and wonder when I was going to start other projects I’d thought about for a long time.

I almost missed being able to complete that project. The tree, a Bradford Pear, was on the lot of a Chinese buffet that I went to. I’d gone there for at least a decade. It was a fixture of the community. It was just something that was always there. Until it wasn’t. I was three-quarters through my project and they closed. They had bought the competition and moved. Now, I could no longer go to lunch there and just walk out afterwards at 12:45 on a Tuesday and take the picture. I had to go eat quickly elsewhere, and then drive over there to get that shot.

I was committed to that time, and that place, and that day. The project depended on being consistent.

I contemplated cancelling the project. I was almost done. It was good enough. My friends changed my mind – they’d come to look forward to that tree, in the same way that I had. I redoubled my efforts and completed the project.

If I’d waited a few months longer to start the project, it would have been that much more difficult to finish. There could have been a bad storm and the tree could have been damaged, or it could have succumbed to rot and been taken out. I could have missed the whole thing before I even began.

Other things happened as well, to me. I’d suddenly had to buy a different car, and I’d had to have surgery to remove a precancerous spot. I started going to the Y. I started journaling again. Perhaps it was all linked – I started paying attention.

Here is a selection of the pictures for you. (I’ve made another change – I’ve edited this to have ALL the pictures. This is a meditation on how we can always go back and fix things. Our work doesn’t have to be “perfect” at the start.)

The first picture, 7-27-10

8-3-10

8-10-10

8-17-10

8-24-10

8-31-10

9-14-10. Missed a week because we were on vacation in North Carolina, before my surgery.

9-21-10. The day before my surgery.

9-29-10. A Wednesday. Not allowed to drive for a week after surgery, this was the first time I went out.

10-5-10

10-12-10, a touch of fall

10-19-10

10-26-10. Raining hard.

11-2-10

11-9-10

11-16-10

11-23-10

11-30-10. My birthday. My husband drove. The restaurant owner bought my lunch.

12-7-10

12-14-12, a tiny bit of snow. There was a Christmas luncheon at work, so I ate quickly and then drove here to take this picture and do the recycling chore.

12-21-10

12-29-10. A Wednesday. I was off for the Christmas holidays and forgot that yesterday was Tuesday.

1-4-11. This would have been my Mom’s 70th birthday. She died at 53 from smoking cigarettes.

1-11-11, dreary day, with snow

1-18-11. Just found out that Peter, the owner of the buffet, has bought the competition that is a block away. This location will be closing. How will I continue this project?

1-25-11

2-1-11. The Tuesday buffet special price has been discontinued, now that there is no competition.

2-8-11

2-15-11

2-22-11

3-1-11

3-8-11 The buffet has closed. I ate quickly somewhere else and then made a special trip here.

3-15-11. The Bradford pear is just beginning to blossom. I parked out of frame to reference the fact that the buffet is closed now and things are different.

3-22-11 If I’d stopped going I would have missed this glorious display of beauty.

3-29-11

4-5-11. While here, I saw another car in the lot. A lady went into the building. A new owner?

4-12-11

4-19-11

4-26-11. There was a bad storm recently and the Bradford pear has lost a branch.

5-3-11 The place isn’t being taken care of – a branch that had fallen is still there and the grass needs cutting.

5-10-11

5-17-11. A “cartoon” version from last week. I was home sick, and next week we plan on going on vacation to NC. I didn’t want my friends to miss that much so I created this.

6-7-11. Three whole weeks missed. Sick, vacation, and then a going-away party for someone at work. I was starting to think about cancelling the project. The place was sold and it was hard to get here on time every week now.

6-14-11. Back on track. Recommitted.

6-21-11

6-28-11

7-5-11

7-26-11 -and we are back around to the beginning. Not a lot looks different, but a lot has happened.

———–
Edit to add – This is the most recent picture, taken at the same spot, or as close as I can determine.

The lot is now a Zaxby’s. I’m standing in the drive-through lane. The entire building was torn down and the foo-dogs were removed, much to the chagrin of the the former owner, who wanted them back. They cost $10K each. This picture was not taken on a Tuesday at 1 pm as all the others were, because I can’t get here at that time anymore because of where I work now. This was around three on a Friday. Yet another change. My father always said “You just adjust and adjust and adjust, and then you die.”

Here are more pictures of that area, taken after the buffet had closed.

The building

Through the windows

The foo-dog guardians under the Bradford pear, in bloom.

Peace (cat in a tree)

Posted on July 19, 2013 by betsybeadhead | Leave a comment

I want to be a peacemaker. I want to take conflict resolution classes. I want to help people understand each other. I want to wake people up to their potential. I want to show them how to prevent problems.

My spiritual director says I need to focus inward. She says I need to take care of myself first. I guess this I kind of like when you are on an airplane and the pressure drops. You have to make sure your oxygen mask is on first before you help out the people around you. I guess it is like being a first responder. If you aren’t in shape, how can you rescue someone else?

This makes sense yet it also sounds backwards. There are already too many people who are totally self centered and selfish. There are already too many people who are unaware and unawake. To turn my desire to help others around onto myself seems like regression.

But perhaps the middle way is best. It would mean that I am balanced and grounded. It would mean that I can help others and not be depleted. If you overextend you may fall. Just like if you are rescuing a kitten from a tree, if you reach out too far, go past your balance point, you’ll fall to the ground.

Then, there is the idea that the kitten needs to learn how to get her own dang self down.

If you keep rescuing the kitten, she’ll keep needing to be rescued. Maybe there is something useful there in that thought.

Nobody rescued me. Nobody stood around and cheered me on to start getting healthy in body and soul. Nobody figured out how I could carve out time and money to go to the Y. Perhaps there is something in letting people figure out how to get there on their own.

Maybe there is something to being OK with the idea that they may never get there. Maybe there is something about being OK with where they are right now.

I just hate listening to the yowling of that stuck cat.

I want it to stop climbing up that tree. It has climbed up that same tree for years and it keeps getting stuck. I want it to pick a different tree or figure this one out. Or stay away from trees entirely.

I’ve got my own trees to wrestle with. I want to help, but I don’t want to rescue. But I also don’t want to feel like saying “I told you so”.

Zero

Posted on July 13, 2013 by betsybeadhead | Leave a comment

Zero calories. Fat free. Gluten free.

This doesn’t mean it is healthy. Look at the label. It can have healthy claims and be totally devoid of nutrition. So what if it has no calories if it also has no vitamins or minerals?

I remember one time when I was working at the craft store in Chattanooga. We got in a shipment of pottery that was packed in these new cellulose packing peanuts. The owner of the store got really excited and said they were edible. He started eating them like they were cheese puffs. Just because something is edible doesn’t mean you should eat it.

There are plenty of snacks that are being sold in pre-portioned packs, usually 100 calories. Partly this is because we have no idea what a proper portion is, and we are gluttons. We’ll eat the entire bag of chips or cookies in one sitting without thinking twice about it. So we need limits. But so what if it is 100 calories, when is 100 calories of nothing? Empty calories fill you up fast and don’t leave any room for actual food.

Something can be gluten free or kosher or organic or any other health buzz word and be high in cholesterol or fat or salt. It can be totally devoid of fiber and nutrients.

I’ve never understood why someone would pick an “energy bar” when they can just eat an Apple and some almonds instead. You’ll get the same results with no preservatives and no packaging, and a lot cheaper.

We are being deceived. We are being tricked. We no longer know what food is, and how to cook it. We are letting corporations make our food. To paraphrase Michael Pollan in “Food Rules”, our food comes from plants, and isn’t plants.

I have relatives who put out bowls of apples for decoration, rather than for eating. Then they realize that the apples go bad, so they have to buy more. Then they decide to buy fake ones. Only in America would we decorate with fake food. Meanwhile people are dying of malnutrition across the country and across the world.

All you can eat doesn’t mean all you should eat. Sure, you want to get your money’s worth when you go to a buffet, but if you overeat, you’ll pay for it in more than money. That dozen doughnuts costs less than a half dozen, but how long will it take you to burn off those calories? So, really, it costs more.

Either/Or

Posted on July 4, 2013 by betsybeadhead | Leave a comment

When someone asks you a question and they give you the answers as part of the question, be wary. They either don’t really care what you think or they don’t even realize the trap themselves.

It is like when someone says the phrase “don’t you think” either at the beginning or end of a question. They don’t really care what you think. They just want validation for what they think.

If they say “do you want to wear the blue shirt or the grey shirt?” They have already done most of the thinking for you. In this instance all you can think about is blue or gray. You aren’t even in the same room with the red, orange, or yellow shirt. And maybe you don’t want to wear a shirt at all. Maybe you want to wear just a vest, or a dress.

I’m saying this to help you be mindful of these tricks that people play. They might not even be aware that they are manipulating you. Whether they are aware or not, the effect is the same. You are being distracted. You are being led along a path in a direction you may not want to go.

Question everything and everyone.

This is different from simple defiance. Saying no to everything all the time is childish. But following along mindlessly shouldn’t be the mark of an adult either.

Do whatever it is because you have researched it yourself and found it to be good. If the reason to do something is “because we have always done it that way” or, worse, it results in a threat, dig deeper.

Especially when the threat is to your soul.

I’ve never understood the logic of telling someone they have to believe the way you do because their soul depends on it. Just believe, like that, something that is huge.

I’m not going to buy a house or a car without reading the fine print. If I’m not going to jump into that major commitment without studying it, then what is the logic of going into an external commitment without question?

It is precisely because I take my soul seriously that I question. I expect the same of everyone. I think any faith tradition that expects blind obedience really just wants you to be blind.

This post was inspired by the title of a book. It is called “Was Jesus a Republican or a Democrat?” Uh, how about he was neither?

This way of questioning is black and white. There is no gray. There is no middle, and there is no other.

If you really want to know what someone thinks, ask them an open ended question. Ask them what they think, without any nouns. Just ask, and let them fill in the blanks.

While providing options is useful when you have a flighty child who cannot make decisions in a hurry and you need to get her out of the house and on to school, it is insulting to do to an adult.

But we do it all the time.

I’m writing this post to help you be mindful to not do it to others, and to not let them do it to you.

It is a hard habit to break.

Consider this. If you frame the question, you’ll miss the whole picture.

TMJ as a teacher.

Posted on June 6, 2013 by betsybeadhead | Leave a comment

I have TMJ problems. My jaw doesn’t line up properly. Overuse, and the ligaments in my neck hurt. The more I talk, the more pain I’m in. It isn’t a large pain. It isn’t terrible. But it is just annoying enough to keep me mindful.

I’ve become very conscious of everything I say. It is as if I have a bank account and I’m being careful of what I spend. Each sentence needs to be worthwhile.

I remember when a teacher in junior high had an assignment that we had to come up with a list of just twenty words. These were (hypothetically) the only words we would be allowed to say for the rest of our lives. This is something like that.

If it hurts to talk a lot, then you have to pick your words carefully or suffer the consequences. What do you have to say? What can be dropped?

This is totally in line with the Buddhist idea of right speech. Every word you say needs to be true, kind, and helpful. Is it necessary? Is it useful? Or is it mindless chatter, meant to fill up the silence? Is it gossip?

There is a great saying that “It is better to remain silent at the risk of being thought a fool, than to talk and remove all doubt of it.” (Maurice Switzer)

There is a Ghandi quote as well that I’ve also heard attributed to the Quakers. “Speak only if it improves upon the silence.”

We are afraid of silence. We fill our houses and our heads with noise. We have iPods and cell phones attached to our ears constantly. Every store has music playing. The TV blaring on, all the time. When was the last time you were silent for longer than 20 minutes, and not asleep?

This disorder has become my teacher.