The New In Renewal

I find this to be the most interesting time of year. That period between Christmas or Hanukkah and New Year's Day where we seem to float, a bit disengaged, tangled in the memories of the past year and bursting with the urge to start over. Filled with the need to begin anew and aligning ourselves with visions of resolution. We begin charting a course towards becoming what we feel would be a better person. Most likely we've overindulged a bit with the holiday parties and dinners. It might be that the stress meter is running a little higher than normal particularly if you've had to fight mall traffic or sit next to an unpleasant in-law over the course of a family meal.

Yes, culturally we've set ourselves up for the promise of change. As if one we go to the sea murmuring "My new year's resolutions will solve that ___", "All I need to fix is this and I'll be ___", "Well on the first of January I'll start to ___" - you fill in the blanks. We're primed; we've guzzled and gulped, simmered with apprehension over gifts and family, and in the small hours of the morning hung our heads in remorse at past misdeeds of the fleeing year.

What better time for transformation. The urge is built into our behavior. It's become a part of our societal DNA. We go running hard and then slam up against this wall of promise - the New Year, the New You, the New Life, ah I love the sound of that - who doesn't? What's going on though? It seems like we're bringing to the forefront our weaknesses, our faults and identifying with them. In this post-partum moment we say to ourselves "I need to change". This is all good but the fly in the ointment is that we've've built up this pressure behind it. So instead of examining habits and inclinations and forging a new spirit evoked by gradual change we reach out and proclaim "I must be New!" This is the fallacy of our current lifestyle. We're conditioned to expect that we can get what we want quickly and relatively easy. Simply proclaim the new and improved You hence you are now new and improved.

True change is a laborious process, not altogether unpleasant, but it requires a lot of work, daily work, with a constant vigilance towards keeping on the path. We get all wound up with this concept of New, of being transformed. If we're not careful we mistake the process for the purpose. Rare is the legitimate overnight shift to a new way of being, even less often that St. Paul moment with a vision striking you into conversion, real upheaval, to the core, not merely conversant in the terms of conversion (unless of course you are chosen by God to be a saint, then all previous comments need not apply).

Revolutions, you may notice, generally only replace the people in charge. As The Who succinctly put it, "Meet the new boss, same as the old boss". What modifies societies and people in a permanent fashion is an underlying current of evolutionary behavior. It is wave after wave that reshapes the ledges of the shore just as it is slow tidal movements from deep within that fashion a new life. Ultimate change comes from small actions practiced over and over with awareness of purpose. This is yoga.

I'm not saying don't make resolutions. I think they're good for you and help you focus on what you want. I have a few myself. What I am pointing out is that you should prepare to undergo the long journey if you want permanent change. That brief momentary feeling of victory where you start from a gully of remorse and then climb to the edge and look out over a field of poppies is seductive but misleading. The new you is better served with small, insightful steps bearing a course that aligns with your spiritual nature. Trust that you'll get there without banners and proclamations but simply arrive when your Being is ready to accept what is.

Start by dropping the New from Renewal and work with what's left ~ Real.

photo credit: Sunburst by John Gavrille

The Cycles of Remorse

What are the limitations of our being? Does it not seem at times we fail not because we are incapable but simply because we choose not to reach beyond the boundaries we create for ourselves. Or even harsher, we let others set our path, becoming in essence a confirmation of their view of us in their world model. We say, in surrender: "This is who I am, this is who I must be".

We accept these borders and live into them as it is often is an easier road to success as defined by our peers and patronage than discovering new territories within. Our history, our demons of yesterday, lay claim to us and offer us respite from uncertainty by delivering behaviors we have followed in the past that have not produced success but rather relieved uncertainty. They provide comfort of course as this is familiar ground we have been over before and sinking into these actions, relishing these passions, allows us to turn off that insistent cry which is in essence the struggle for healing within our soul.

The myth is that this time it's different, this time I know what I'm getting into, while not realizing that what brought us here before was a flawed view of ourselves and feeding our weaknesses again is yet another attempt to assuage our fear of really seeing who we are. Oft times we fail to realize this but internally something sits uncomfortably and we view our actions, when we find a breathe of clarity, with a certain unease that remains intangible yet persistent.

We all have a light within us that shines forth. Some claim that light and recognize it as a beacon and gather others, acting as guides for them in some small way spreading love and joy in all their words. Others fear their light. They are cognizant of their capabilities but have a loathing within themselves of who they are. They use what gifts they have to collect around them those who would only confirm the shallow necessities of their limitations, to feed their hunger for self worth.

This is not to judge but merely to say - look within your nature, examine your actions. The mirror to your declarations of higher consciousness, to a more mindful presence, is the extent to which you are honest with yourself. Do you act simply because it feels good, damn what harm may come to others. Or even worse, carry disdain for those you perceive as weaker because they have not achieved some goal that your limited being chose for measurement. If you cannot even recognize these questions, shrug and say they never apply to me then you are indeed who I am talking to. Those who do not self examine continuously, strike with confidence but not concern, rely on aphorism when wisdom is required, these are often the most frightened of individuals. Their only recourse for respite is to accumulate followers in fashion and falsely believe the trumpets of acclaim that ring forth.

Love guides all warriors of Spirit. Not lust, not passion for recognition, not the security derived from positions of power. Love speaks simply in words of Truth. Love acts righteously without conscious thought. Love is. If all your deeds, all your being, does not first begin with Love then stop and find that small place within where Love exists and start again to build from there. This is the ground from which all true change comes from, the only soil capable of nurturing the roots we all need.

out of kindness I suppose

This is a bit tough for me, in a way I'm dragging myself back to this forum not because I want to write but because I have to. I'm struggling inside right now; of course I'll work it out but you - if you choose, can share in this process. What's in it for you? Well I have no real confidence in my entertainment value, certainly I can't compete with Dancing With The Stars but maybe I can give you a tickle that resonates somewhere deep within. Perhaps provide the shadow of a thought that runs through your mental stream as well as mine.

I was walking today around the small body of water that I tend to circle once or twice a week chewing on my thoughts when I looked over at a man walking towards me, a bit older than I and much more weathered. I nodded and went back to my revery when, as we passed he looked at me and said "no one really cares." A bit odd, sure, but you meet all kinds and normally I just smile and keep walking, perhaps a little swifter until I'm out of earshot but today, for some reason I don't know why, I guess I was feeling a bit melancholy, I stopped and looked at him and said "you're right - no one cares." He looked at me for a bit and then said "You know there are over a thousand homeless veterans in this city and no one gives a damn." Ok I had his number now, he was dressed appropriately and seemed cognizant, wasn't a bum and definitely a vietnam era soldier. I can tell, I've been around them enough. I told him I too was a veteran though not of Vietnam and abruptly he turned in my direction and with a nod we began to walk together, talking about the problems of post traumatic syndrome. He was retired and now he worked with the homeless and with the mentally ill in prison. He had a mission and I let him go on and on about the injustices and the efforts and the enormity of the problem and his little push back at the great beast. Pre-retirement he had spent his career building low cost housing in the south. This was a man of great passion and in the face of immense adversity stood with his back held straight facing into the winds of misfortune, rescuing whom he could. We didn't talk long maybe twenty minutes before we went our separate ways. At parting we exchanged names, his was David, same as mine. He looked at me, cocked his head and said you know what David means in Hebrew? I didn't - "Beloved of God" he said. I smiled and thanked him and went along my journey home. This short conversation has stayed with me all day today and now I feel how it's pulled and tugged at my inner landscape until these words come spilling out.

Why does this affect me so? As I struggled I think I stumbled upon a small part of the equation. I've been caught up in my own little world. When things didn't turn out the way I wanted or I became confused because I couldn't understand something I would retreat and hide behind a dark, quiet exterior. God knows I don't want to turn this into an emo blog but it's important for me to understand the lessons of the universe as best I can whenever they're offered.

This man today survived his life. I say survived accurately, because he too had suffered post traumatic disorders and survived only by reaching within and finding a deep passion for helping others like him. This is the model I think we could all do well to emulate. Not necessarily dedicating our lives to helping the misfortunate, a great concept but I certainly couldn't do it. No, the model is really to acquire or rather bring forth a passion from within that inspires you and others. Not just raise it to the surface and wave it as a flag but to live into that passion fully, to own it and identify yourself with it, acknowledging that to this concept you are willing cede control, raising it above the petty concerns that others would weigh you down with.

I know we grow so diffused by the everyday struggles that when we do find dreams or desires that fit this bill they seem impossibly far way or even silly. We say no, I can't have that, tone it down and settle for something 'reasonable'. We compromise and continue in a half hearted fashion, justifying it all along the way. "I have responsibilities, they need me, I'm not capable of that." Never once do we live into our full being, never for a moment considering that in our reason and passion for existence, all these problems, these concerns, are solved as a by-product of our reach for glory. The Universe does not play to an empty dance hall. The band knows the dancers and each affect the other.

Or we look inside and discover emptiness, well it's not really that we're empty, we're just not letting a light shine into the right spaces. It's there, but truthfully, it takes a bit of confidence and pure plain guts to grab something and run with it. If you don't have that - well, then what are you doing here, you should have checked out after the second paragraph. Of course it's there, it's you who's scared to accept it, to taste it, to play with it and be played with. Maybe it doesn't look like what everybody has told you it should look like - 'all your fucking life'. Frankly - screw 'em. It has to grab you and captivate you, force you to take a deep breath in awe and ecstasy, knowing that this is why you're here, this is it, this is the reason - and then it doesn't let you go. When you get to that point where you're scared breathless and shitting bricks well then, dammit, grasp the lightning bolt and shimmy on board howling in pure glory and grit and ride it all the way down to the strike. Then get up, shake yourself off and look for the next bolt. You deserve to have this much fun in this world, in this life.

My passions are writing, painting, philosophy and designing/developing cutting edge software so rad it rattles your teeth. My love is serving my community, my fellow yogis and assisting them with grace and tenderness. This they return in kind and I revel in the energy we build together during the space and time of a vinyasa session. My greatest gifts are my beloved friendships. This is a relatively new concept to me. I've had friends of course, good friends - trustworthy and generous but now, around me is a small group whom I love deeply and they, in turn, love me to no end and this is a truly great honor, this is my Guard. The Universe, when we allow it, smotes( I do like this word) us boldly and says Go Forth! Go, do not rest on mundane matters but raise your challenges as a road in front of you and each mile you cover begets a span of passion, each moment you grow emboldens you and allows you to overcome that which would deny you your true heritage, your magnificent purpose, at this moment on this planet - to be a shining, infinite being that lights the way for others.

The Way Of Love Is Not

This, dear reader, will be my last post on this site. I am finished here. It's not to say that my writing is complete, no, I will continue but I need to focus on other matters and explore a different venue for a time.

More to the point though. If you've followed my posts you realize that I started this venture as a way to chart some of the feelings I was dealing with. These were in response to crossing paths with someone who affected me deeply. I'm still not sure why I gave her permission to reach me so. I don't regret it but it's time to move on.

In general, I've always kept my affairs light and non-consequential, ever ready to leave when the wind blows in a different direction. Here I forgot that and settled into being committed, not only to a person but to a concept. Funny though, I never got the same from her. That was a hard lesson to learn. She said once that a soul mate is someone who pushes your buttons. So true.

Instinctively when we met I knew I wanted to be caught, have my soul dredged, shaken in some unknown fashion. This scared me deeply yet I had a foreshadowing that she was the person I'd been waiting for, for just this purpose. I needed to feel the angst of an unrequited relationship, the longing and melancholy that it brings, those things I'd inured myself against years ago, swearing never to be moved by anyone, never to seem vulnerable. For such a long time and so many encounters I was successful. I touched yet was never touched. I could roll out of bed, throw a coat 'round my shoulders and be off down the road without a backward glance. I left many behind and seemingly now they had returned to haunt me in the guise of my passion for this one woman. Perhaps I fulfilled some need inside for her, she never told me and I was never able to discover my role in her life. This was painful yet I paid my dues. These last two years have been difficult to say the least. In my throes I have visited each distant affair as well as I could remember and asked forgiveness. I am done.

So here I am, not young but not old and not sure how to build a meaningful bond with another individual. In a way I feel brand new, like the fresh pink skin appearing from beneath a scab that you peel off in morbid fascination. I am more open now than I've ever been in my life. It's a little terrifying but also invigorating. I cannot use, no longer have, the same talents I had before to win my way into a woman's favor. It's just me and what I really want is to find a partner to dance with. Someone with a simple grace and an easy smile who doesn't ask for much except that I love her above all else. Now, that will be easy.

The Man Watching

I can tell by the way the trees beat, after
so many dull days, on my worried windowpanes
that a storm is coming,
and I hear the far-off fields say things
I can't bear without a friend,
I can't love without a sister

The storm, the shifter of shapes, drives on
across the woods and across time,
and the world looks as if it had no age:
the landscape like a line in the psalm book,
is seriousness and weight and eternity.

What we choose to fight is so tiny!
What fights us is so great!
If only we would let ourselves be dominated
as things do by some immense storm,
we would become strong too, and not need names.

When we win it's with small things,
and the triumph itself makes us small.
What is extraordinary and eternal
does not want to be bent by us.
I mean the Angel who appeared
to the wrestlers of the Old Testament:
when the wrestler's sinews
grew long like metal strings,
he felt them under his fingers
like chords of deep music.

Whoever was beaten by this Angel
(who often simply declined the fight)
went away proud and strengthened
and great from that harsh hand,
that kneaded him as if to change his shape.
Winning does not tempt that man.
This is how he grows: by being defeated, decisively,
by constantly greater beings.

~Rainer Maria Rilke

Focus

Fear conquers most. Focus conquers fear.

Something Wicked This Way Comes

Been thinking a lot about ghosts lately. Right now I'm sitting here drinking a red wine called Irony, seriously. I picked it up just because of the label. Tonight I need a little less sobriety and a great deal more appreciation for the irony in this world. It's these damn ghosts that have come around again. Not content to clutter the attic or rattle chains in the basement, they have to come out to sit on my lap, look me in the eye and tell me how much they care for me as they shred my self esteem.

We are all haunted by ghosts. Not necessarily those of the deceased. In fact, the worst ghosts are the images and memories of those who are still around, who we occasionally cross paths with, who once we loved, perhaps still do. These ethereal beings remind us in some facet that we have failed, that a road we might have chosen was not taken. They relish in this, these ghosts. They look at us and moan - "what could have been, what have you missed, why didn't you do this...." in that spooky way that sends chills through you and flips your eyelids back in the small hours of the morning to stare at the ceiling waiting for the next breath and not sure if it's going to come. These ghosts, these hauntings, they feed on us. They need us for their existence and we have no seeming power to dispel them.

I know we are all haunted. It's in our eyes. Some make peace with their ghosts and keep them contained as little mice in the back of the closet. The pitter-patter of their feet is audible but the door remains shut and so they scamper about scratching and are only really noticeable at particularly quiet times. Generally these kind of people don't like quiescent moments so they're always rushing about, always busy just so they're never curious about the sounds coming from the closet. This is not really being honest about your apparitions and believe me, they tend to grow in that closet because they know you haven't forgotten them. At some point when the door does burst open, well then you've got a parade on your hands and you're reaching for the medicine cabinet.

Others keep their ghosts close at hand - dinner companions and pillow partners. They are never far from these supernatural barnacles. They feed their ghosts syrupy concoctions of regret and concern, dumplings of remorse, a main course of flagellation and end with a desert of self denial. Their ghosts are fat and sassy. A collection of malodorous spirits marching up and down the corridors of our lives, imperious in their demands, snapping with disdain at behaviors that don't support their gaseous hides.

We come to rely on our ghosts. They're always there, they're never unfaithful in their demands - they always just want more. More time in our thoughts, more focus of our emotions, more space in our future. But they don't want to give us anything in return - they can't, they're ghosts. They don't exist except in our minds. They offer us nothing but take from us all that they can.

I don't know why we give them this power. Lord knows I would like to sit down with my ghosts and have that conversation but these are intangible drifts of thought. If I could gather them and face them in the light of day I'm sure they would disperse, contrite at what they are doing. No, their power comes from the fact that we don't face them, we flee from them. We always have them behind us, over our shoulder. We always hear their footsteps but we never have the nerve to stop, turn around and take a good look at what a ghost really is. If we did they would simply dissipate. Their power lies in inducing us to run away, to say to ourselves, "There's something wrong with me and I can't face it". This is what emboldens them, this is what keeps them in existence.

In truth, you haunt yourself. These ghosts are of your design. Their presence comes at the cost of your endowments. They rob you of your potential but the dirty secret is, they are you. You choose how large they are, how frequently they come around, you give them permission to haunt you because you don't have the courage to laugh at them. Take heed, I'm not saying this lightly. The harmony of laughter within is spring rain for the Self. To laugh is to be confident in who you are - until you reach that you will always run scared from these apparitions, always feel compelled to pay them the dues they demand. The only way to regain power is to understand that these ghosts serve no lasting purpose and the proper response to their wails of despair and pleas for attention is to smile, acknowledge their existence, then laugh a bit at them and at yourself and how insecure you are at times. Send them on their way and go on with your life, a perfect Being, brushing the dust off your soul.