So how is it I have never discovered Pema Chodron? She is my new hero, my new guru. I absolutely love everything about her. I have watched videos, read about her online. I have not purchased any of her books yet, but that is coming. Her voice is calm, soothing, her message is delightful, patient - kind. Here is an interesting thing, however. She reminds me so very much of Joyce, my old boss; the one who belittled me so much and made me question every moment in my life. Ultimately the experience of six years under her rule made me a stronger, more whole, more aware of myself human being. She was the epitome of kindness, and then she could equally be the epitome of sorrow and cruelty. It fascinates me that Pema reminds me so much of her, because I do not sense any of those negative qualities in her, and yet her voice, the accent she puts on certain words; I hear Joyce. I admired Joyce greatly in many ways; her brilliance, her forward way of looking at things. But I was equally terrified of her, too. Pema seems to have the same good qualities and then so much more beyond. Regardless. I am completely enthralled by Pema. I have seen her works as long as I can remember and it is so amazing to me that I have never read or explored her before! It just goes to show that we get what we need when the Universe puts it in our path when we are ready.
Time has passed since I wrote those words this morning. I have been in a struggle this evening, after a calm and sweet afternoon. It is so amazing how things changes, moods shift, time passes. Moment to moment; it is like being on a roller coaster. I have been mulling in my mind this evening about upcoming changes in the school year. I am a bit worried, and yet, really, more; I am borrowing trouble, as my grandmother used to say. Worrying about what might happen is just stealing time from now. Earlier I was so proud and happy to know that I was living in the now; in the moment, and here I am tonight, frittering away time on what-might-happens. How silly. How human, yet how silly and pointless. So what has changed since this morning? Nothing. The air in the house still smells good. I am still home, it is still my home. The fan still turns overhead, the air conditioning unit still cools my house. The cats still keep coming to check on me. I am still me. I am still the exact same person I was this morning, except for some reason I allowed a shadow of doubt to creep into my soul. That just proves, doesn’t it, that we are all just a work in progress. Sometimes we are up, sometimes we are down. I can laugh at myself right now; it is ok, my honor, really, to acknowledge the human side of myself. Worry does not solve a thing, and this I know.
So, my jittering, uncertain soul needed a reminder. One of the things I do to calm my soul is to search poetry books for lines that jump out at me. Often, I now use the Internet to help soothe my mind; lines from books, lines I remember, words of poetry. It doesn’t matter where I find them, really. It is something I have done for as long as I can remember. I think my grandmother did it. I stumbled on her scrap book earlier and there were taped pages from newspapers in it. My mom did it; I remember her collecting Sketches, which used to be printed in the newspaper too. So I come by it honestly, my searching for words. I don’t search for validation, but I do search for words that strike my soul. I was reading through emails earlier and I have saved a bunch of Elephant Journals to read; I thought that would be the perfect mood shifting exercise. It is something I stumbled on earlier this year; a link that led to a link and so on. Elephant Journal is the kind of news I like to read. Spiritual, inspiring, inspiration, Buddhist, sensible, noteworthy, reasonable. Not confrontational, not egomaniacal. Just feel-good news that I can get behind and be interested in. A line intrigued me and I had to search it out. There was a highlighted word “poem” that obviously led to a poem. It was a line from a Walt Whitman poem. It simple said this: Walt Whitman. “This is what you shall do: dismiss whatever insults your own soul”. That intrigued me enough to search for the poem. And here it is: “This is what you shall do; Love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to every one that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience and indulgence toward the people, take off your hat to nothing known or unknown or to any man or number of men, go freely with powerful uneducated persons and with the young and with the mothers of families, read these leaves in the open air every season of every year of your life, re-examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book, dismiss whatever insults your own soul, and your very flesh shall be a great poem and have the richest fluency not only in its words but in the silent lines of its lips and face and between the lashes of your eyes and in every motion and joint of your body.”
I can’t say much more, can I. Life goes on. Moods go on; moods shift, time passes, and the earth continues to rotate around the sun. Dismiss whatever insults your soul. Love everyone, everything. Love yourself. Game changer. Mood changer. Leave silly worries behind; worries you cannot do a thing to change. Accept, or don’t. But don’t waste valuable, precious time with worry.
I always re-read what I write when I feel it is complete for that moment. And I reread todays writing, including this morning’s start of a letter to my friend. It was like a light bulb, the reason for my insecurity this evening, although I did not remember until just now. I was writing of Pema Chodron. I really am enthralled with her. But she also reminds me in the strangest way of my brilliant former headmaster. She could cut me down quicker than anyone I have ever known in my life. My friend used to refer to her as Crayola because you never knew her mood; she shifted like the colors in a crayon box. Brilliant analogy, by the way. It was awful the way I lost my job' painful, hurtful, unnecessary at the time. Yet, believing as I do, it was the best thing to happen; the way it should have been, although hard to fathom at the time. It was four summers ago and I have felt so blessed since to be gifted with a boss who treats me fairly and with kindness. But I found out the other day that I will have a new boss at the start of the school year. I have heard through others that the new person is hard to work for, but they have learned a lot – my description of Joyce. It terrifies me a bit to work for another like her, and I think that angst has been simmering in me. My writing of Pema Chodron and how she reminds me of Joyce today must have struck a chord that echoed inside my head until it took hold. Knowing the source of my discomfort does add to my peace of mind. Searching for words to resonate in my heart and soul, and knowing the source of my discomfort certainly does make my mind rest easier. I am grateful.
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