Sameness

Getting to accept this stability, calmness, quiet, aloneness. Drama will appear no doubt, but for now it is lacking though I see it a lot around me in the world and also in nature.

I went to the woods last night and found that the bluebells were coming out. I lay down in them, snuggled sheltered in between the trees and stayed still, just looking and feeling and smelling and breathing. Slow motion. Be still. Stay put. Watch. Overhead a drama arose, a large buzzard appeared screeching. A mob of crows quickly assembled and chased it off. Beautiful sight to behold. I felt honoured to be ‘invited’. 

I weighed myself as usual this morning (got these amazing Fitbit scales wifi connected that send my weight to my phone!) and astonished to see that I have lost even more, so that’s 2.5 kilos just this week. They say that is unhealthy but I have been eating well and regularly, never getting hungry, aware I don’t want the body to go into starvation mode or leave myself open to uncontrollable grabbing of a treat out and about. Don’t really understand why it’s such a rapid weight loss, but I’m glad. Pretty sure the lack of sugar and alcohol accounts for it. 

I’m chumming myself along fine here through this experiment in habit change. I’m amazed now that I thought for the last couple of years that a large spoonful of honey was required in every one of my 10-15 or so cups of tea every day. I believed that, and so it was true for me. Since it wasn’t actually sugar I reasoned it was okay. Same with drinking, attached to the idea of a reward at the end of the day. And dropping that has been just as easy. Facebook I thought was my lifeline to the world, to wider family and friends for years. Gone now, and it feels amazing. I was increasingly questioning that hit I was getting from people liking my posts, and the disappointment of they didn’t. What part of me wants to be here I asked? What a love me love me egofest ! That’s okay too, but it had its time and ran its course. I’m glad I’ve got this place to come and splurge the process out in. 

These were my crutches, and they became important to me. With by son, dog, friends all going in the last couple of years their importance increased ridiculously. I felt so lonely and lost until I turned towards myself with care and became a kind parent to the troubled feelings. 

Alcohol was my amusement, it helped me numb the pain at first, and helped me socialise with strangers at parties next door. I am amused enough now, and I find and can confidently be myself now as confidence has grown. I’m able to turn lovingly towards the pain now and comfort myself so not so much requirement to avoid the feelings. Snacking too much was also a manifestation of wanting to fill the shock of the emptiness. An emptiness I’m now making friends with and allowing more. 

So attachments yes. And this bring me to aversions. I have some looking and self enquiry to do about feelings of aversion I have towards some people. Aversion to full acknowledgement of non separation, the falling away of all defence. In another post though. I am holding some far outside my circle of love, and I want to address and explore that. The love wants to be complete. And nobody is really held outside of it in truth, so I want to be more aligned with the truth. 

“Your pain is the breaking of the shell
that encloses your understanding.

Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its
heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain.

And could you keep your heart in wonder
at the daily miracles of your life, your pain
would not seem less wondrous than your joy;

And you would accept the seasons of your
heart, even as you have always accepted
the seasons that pass over your fields.

And you would watch with serenity
through the winters of your grief.

Much of your pain is self-chosen.

It is the bitter potion by which the
physician within you heals your sick self.

Therefore trust the physician, and drink
his remedy in silence and tranquillity:

For his hand, though heavy and hard, is guided
by the tender hand of the Unseen,

And the cup he brings, though it burn your lips,
has been fashioned of the clay which the Potter
has moistened with His own sacred tears.”

– Kahlil Gibran, excerpt from The Prophet