The Practice
August 15, 2011
I have lately been having a tough time knowing what to write each time I sit down to a new blank page of this blog. Maybe it is because most of the change and uncertainty and challenge and contentment has been churning deep in my personal life as opposed to out in the world of my professional life. I am not, at the moment, working on a new series of art, an upcoming show, or a book proposal. Most of the seeds being planted right now are for projects that won’t see the light of day until 2012. The bulk of my time and attention has been on endeavors within the walls of my home, and that has been just fine. That has been enough.
I realized long ago that I can’t “have it all” and I’m not SuperWoman. Over time I have come to understand how utterly depleted I get when I push myself too hard trying to juggle too much at once. I have learned the importance of rest, and quiet, and lazy afternoons. To see the pace of my days is still to see a lot, and I can’t claim to have any kind of ultimate control over how my days and evenings play out, but my practice of choosing to be present has been honed to an entirely new degree this summer.
Perhaps my recent difficulties with forming a blog entry have to do with my hesitancy in writing about the subject of being present in a way that lacks substance. I don’t want to merely churn out catchphrases and platitudes ~ I want to be able to express all the ways this summer has turned out to be one hell of a transformative time thanks to a daily, disciplined commitment to being present.
When I decide to do something, I get right to it. This is true with my work and it is true in my personal life. I have chosen to forgive someone with the same diligence as I’ve given to the decision to write a book. I hold myself accountable as my husband’s partner with the same enthusiasm as I give to meeting my deadlines. To live with integrity in one but not the other would be chaos ~ the large and small victories of overcoming hurdles or realizing dreams in one area of my life always inspires the same kind of attention in other areas of my life.
When I made a conscious, deliberate decision to stay in the here and now in the midst of all kinds of changes, uncertainties, and in-betweens currently playing out under our roof, I took it seriously. Not since a dear loved one was diagnosed with Stage Four Hodgkin’s Lymphoma many years ago have I been so committed to being present. Back then, I rationalized that it would be a monumental waste of time to imagine the worst case scenario ~ why go through that if it might not happen? Or ~ why go through that over and over again in my mind, only to have to then go through it again in real life? Sure enough, all odds were miraculously silenced, this person is now running triathlons, and I avoided a whole lot of unnecessary heartache. My deepest commitment during that time was to deal only with what was right in front of me, and that saved my sanity.
It was easy to slip out of that focus and back into old habits, but this summer I have been called upon to reaffirm that practice, only this time it is under much more pleasant circumstances. This has nothing to do with a health scare or a diagnosis of any kind ~ this is normal life transitions and natural shifts in a marriage. This is the exploration of questions that could only bubble up to the surface now, at this point in my life, and my need to give them the attention they deserve. This is all good, even though much is unknown.
The always wise and poetic Karen Maezen Miller wrote this on her blog:
“A collapse brings us to the solid ground, where all the truly unbelievable spectacles occur. We stand up, without wings, and walk the Earth in the supernatural act of being utterly ordinary. The miracle, you see, is what we already are.” ~excerpt from this entry
I can’t say I am going through a collapse right now on the exterior of my life, but I do feel as though I am going through a shedding of sorts, albeit an invisible one. I am in a wide open expanse of in-between, and my daily practice has been to stay here. To stay right here. I do this by taking a deep breath and focusing on all the sounds around me. I pull my attention back into my body. I remind myself that I am here, not there, and right here, right now, is just fine. It is exactly what it needs to be. It doesn’t need to be anything more or less and I don’t need to try to make it something else. It doesn’t need to be bigger or grander or wilder.
This takes practice, commitment, and discipline. In the same way I’ve built a business, organized a show, and written stories, I have found a way to be more fully present in my life, attentive to whatever is in front of me, whether laundry or an interview. All it takes is showing up ~ to right here. To right now. To the truth of whatever that is.
“In the absence of myth, there is truth, spectacular truth from which there is no collapse.” ~ Karen Maezen Miller
I hear you Christine~ especially about how staying present takes practice, commitment, and discipline.
I have gone through three journals this summer ~ writing more than I have in many years. Most of my entries have been about showing up and being present writing in my journal; slowing down to actually describe the moment and what I am really feeling. It has helped me evolve and embrace happiness in a way I have not experienced before.
I hear you, loud and clear, and am sitting in a very similar place to you, right there with you. The ‘practice’ has been challenging for me lately, calling me to be mindful and aware and kind. You articulated it better than I ever could have — thank you.
Thank you for the reminder that I am enough. Because this is what you are saying in a nutshell. Present, now, in the moment…it all adds up to a fabulous journey.
I don’t sweat the small stuff anymore. I just let the dust settle and the laundry pile up while I linger over tea and your blog. Because all manner of things will be well. And I am enough whether I am writing a blog post or taking an afternoon nap on my couch.
Isn’t this a wonderful life?
Love you! xo
I’m pretty sure anything you write would be interesting to me, even if it was about the little acts of staying present each day.
I recently walked an intentional path of forgiveness in my life, too. It can be such a monumental thing, and I’m thankful for what that experience has begun to teach me about the nature of forgiveness that I can carry with me into the future experiences where I will need to practice it again and again.
Much love to you, and peace.
xoxo,
Christianne
Christine –
You’ve articulated my own experience here, but more coherently than I would be able to. My tendency is to write in fragments and to let the pieces fall where they may, because that’s what the experience of living this in-betweenness can be like – a series of seemingly unrelated bits and pieces we weave through daily. But you’ve made such good sense here and given me a lens to witness the mapping of my own story, and that’s profoundly helpful. It’s a guidepost, an instruction manual, a road sign, a translation for what has felt so internal and therefore rather wordless. So thank you for for supplying the words, for knowing how to deliver them so gracefully, and for lighting the way. I remain, as ever, your astonished and grateful friend.
i’m always working/practicing on being more present too. i find the more i do it the more conscious or aware i become without really trying…it’s pretty cool!
It is also so hard to get into a practice…for those who don’t write often. Or in my case, I write for a living so the last thing I want to do is write just for me…but it needs to be done therapeutically speaking.