Nancy Lankston
I Am
My bones are mountains.
My tears, rushing rivers.
The earth’s crust is my skin.
Trees adorn my head.
The sun, moon, and stars
Are in my eyes.
The ether of the Universe is my breath.
Separateness is an illusion.
I am all things and all things are me.
My dad passed away a month ago. He had struggled to hang on and stay here long past the point of misery, so his passing was a relief in many ways. But there are still days when I have images of him in my head all day, and I miss him a lot. And other days I don’t think of him at all. Grief is a strange beast.
This morning I remembered a time many years ago when my dad tried to teach me how to jitterbug. Tried is the operative word here – I never could hold my torso still and get my feet to do what his were doing so perfectly. In my defense, I am not known for my coordination. Besides, I had a glass of wine before the dance instruction began!
Dad loved to tell people the tale of how his Navy buddy taught him to jitterbug. I always loved that story; Dad had joined the Navy at 18 and shipped out to California for basic training just as WWII ended. He went from a tiny town in southern Illinois to suddenly being in the Navy on a ship with hundreds of other guys. I imagine that it was all quite a shock for a young geeky country boy. One of his older shipmates took my dad under his wing. He helped my dad settle in to life in the Navy. And he also taught Dad how to jitterbug so he could impress the ladies.
I love the image of my skinny 18 year old Dad with his baby face, dressed in baggy jeans and a work shirt, dancing the jitterbug with some big beefy guy in the tightly cramped quarters of a battleship! LOL Life truly is stranger than fiction. The dance lessons definitely paid off because 40 years later my dad was still an amazing jitterbugger. 🙂
I miss Dad. I wish I had danced with him more. This morning, as I flashed on images of the handful of times that we danced together, I heard Dad’s voice in my ear. He said, “We’ll dance again.” And I suddenly saw an image of two energies dancing and flowing together and then apart, together and then apart. And as the energies danced, they morphed and changed shape, but I could tell that it was still the energy of Dad and I dancing together.
I think that image of my energy dance with Dad is actually a great lesson about the rhythm of life and death. We are energies that come together to dance on Earth, then part in death. Then we will come together again in a new place and dance a new dance. Over and over, we dance together in one form or another.
Later in the morning, I hike up one of my favorite trails, still thinking about my dad and missing him. I stop on a mesa to rest awhile. As I sit under the pines writing, I am startled by a hawk’s cry above me. I look up and see two hawks soaring and spiraling just above my rocky perch. The hawks appear to be dancing together on the wind. It’s a beautiful dance,.
Another memory surfaces as I watch the hawks; I flash on the image of my dad dancing with my mom. In my memory, they are both in their late sixties and have been together for over 40 years. When they danced together, they were so closely in synch that it was like watching a single body move and flow to the music.
The hawks are gone when I next look up from my writing. But a pair of young deer soon stumble upon me. They freeze for a moment. But when they realize that I wont harm them, they relax and forage for food a few feet behind me. Life dances on all around me.
I love you Dad. And I miss you. I miss your wide open country boy smile. I miss your stories. I just plain miss you! But I know in my heart it was time for you to move on. And I am ok – I know that you and I will dance together again soon.
My Dad passed last week. And this week I have many memories coming up about him; things he said and did, what I loved about him and also a few things I didn’t like so much. One of my favorite memories is hearing him call me Goldilocks. Goldy or Goldilocks was my Dad’s nickname for me. Even in his last days, when I would visit him, he would look up, smile and say, “It’s Goldy!” when I walked into the room.
I liked being called Goldy. No one except my dad has ever called me that. So, the nickname passes on with my dad, which is a little sad. But I had many years of being called Goldy or Goldilocks, and the name still makes me smile. Goldy actually referred to the golden blonde hair I had as a child. But Dad also used the name because he said, like Goldilocks, I would search and try out new things until I found the one that was “just right”. So true, so true! I still do that. Apparently I was picky and unwilling to settle even as a young girl. 🙂
I still search and push to find that one “just right” thing. I have found amazing houses to live in because of my constant quest for “just right”. And I love finding just the right restaurant, hiking trail, lawn chair or vacation spot. Searching for “just right” also led me to shift careers and try a lot of different jobs until I zeroed in on a profession that truly suits me. And my inner life is so much richer because of all the spiritual traditions I have explored over the years while searching for one that was just right for me.
But searching for “just right” can also be problematic. I have to be careful that my “just right” search doesn’t degenerate into a search for perfection. Yes, there is a difference between perfect and “just right”. Perfect has an obsessive-compulsive energy to it. When I get locked in perfect mode, it feels absolutely necessary to attain perfection. For example, when writing I sometimes get sucked into searching for the perfect word or phrase. And I feel compelled to keep trying and trying long after a reasonable person would quit. I can waste a ton of energy and make myself completely miserable when I fall into perfect mode.
The search for “just right” is more relaxed than perfection – there’s nothing necessary about finding “just right.” In the fairytale Goldilocks could sleep in any of those beds – she just wants to optimize her comfort! So Goldy takes a few extra minutes to try out every bed. There’s nothing OCD about it. “Just right” is about exploring all the options. “Just right” is nice to have, but not necessary.
My Dad is gone now, exploring in other realms. But while he was here with me, he taught me a lot about life and myself. I love that he found my “just right” quest interesting and amusing. Another parent might have turned this personality trait of mine into a problem. But Dad embraced me and my “just right” quirkiness. I love remembering that.
Happy Travels Dad.
Love –
Goldy
In honor of the Creative new moon in airy Gemini tomorrow, I’d like to share one of my favorite creation myths. This one is from the Hindu tradition:
Before this time and this universe began, there was no heaven, no earth and no space between. A vast dark ocean washed upon the shores of nothingness in the void. A giant cobra floated on the waters. Asleep within its endless coils lay the Lord Vishnu. This great blue God slept and was watched over by the mighty serpent. Everything was so peaceful and silent that Vishnu slept undisturbed. Then, from the depths of the waters, a humming sound began; Ohm. The sound of Ohm grew and spread, filling the ocean with throbbing, pulsing energy.
Night ended, and Vishnu awoke. As the dawn began to break, a magnificent lotus flower grew out of Vishnu’s navel. In the middle of the blossom sat Vishnu’s servant, Brahma. He awaited Vishnu’s command.
Vishnu said, ‘It is time to begin.’ Brahma bowed and Vishnu ordered him to create the world. A wind swept over the ocean and Vishnu vanished, along with his serpent protector.
Brahma remained in the lotus flower, floating and tossing on the sea. He lifted up his arms and calmed the wind and the ocean.
Then Brahma split the lotus flower into three. He stretched one part into the heavens. He made another part into the earth. With the third part of the flower he created the skies.
The earth was bare, so Brahma created flowers, trees, grasses and plants of all shapes and sizes. And he created all kinds of animals to live on the land; birds, insects, mammals and fish. The world was soon rumbling with life and the air was filled with the sounds of Brahma’s creation.
It is said that this Universe will continue to exist until Vishnu closes his eyes to sleep again.
“We are shaped by our thoughts; we become what we think.
When the mind is pure, joy follows like a shadow that never leaves.”
~Buddha
Joy can seem as elusive and slippery as a soap bubble.
Yet once, years ago in meditation, I realized that joy and misery lie just a hair’s width apart within my mind. The image of joy and misery just micrometers apart within me, was so clear that I startled and came out of my reverie giggling. I remember that moment in vivid detail even now years later. And I know that I choose whether I will feel joy or misery or something in between in this moment. And the next. And the next.
It only takes a tiny shift in the mind to move from misery into joy; a micron of a shift; just a slightly altered point of view.
Breathe. And breathe again. Deep, slow breaths that fill your lungs. And feel whatever body sensations are present now; feel the sensations that joy is hiding behind. Breathe and feel your body. Then allow joy to step out of the shadows and be here now.
Can it really be that simple? Yes. Yes!
“A human being is only breath and shadow.”
~Sophocles
☯
“The way we see the world shapes the way we treat it.
If a mountain is a deity, not a pile of ore; if a river is one of the veins of the land, not potential irrigation water; if a forest is a sacred grove, not timber; if other species are biological kin, not resources; or if the planet is our mother, not an opportunity – then we will treat each other with greater respect. Thus is the challenge, to look at the world from a different perspective.”
~David Suzuki
☾ ☽
I climbed up Buffalo Ridge yesterday. I nicknamed this ridge that shelters our home to the southeast Buffalo Ridge months ago – it just has the energy of buffalo roaming free for me. Well, yesterday I climbed to the top of Buffalo Ridge. And now, as I stare out my window at that ridge, it looks completely different to me. Maybe it’s because I’ve been talking about climbing this ridge for 2 years and I FINALLY did it! Yes, that’s part of the change.
But my internal shift involves more than just accomplishing something that I set out to do; Buffalo Ridge is now known to me in a completely different way. I have an intimate relationship with this ridge now; I look at Buffalo Ridge and see the rocks I scrambled over to reach the very top. And I see the circle of old pines that I sat beneath and rested. I remember startling the deer that were bedded down on its slope in the heat of mid-day. And I remember all the cactus just on the verge of blooming as well as the little white flowers already in full bloom.
Today I look out the window and I don’t see a ridge that I climbed. Instead I see an ally that watches over my home and neighborhood. I see a friend who shared some beautiful secrets with me. I am connected to Buffalo Ridge in a new way, and it will never again look like ‘just a hill’ to me!
I live in a box – we all do. It may be a sacred box or a profane box… either way, it is still a box.
I have created a box or a “comfort zone” in life where I spend my days and feel safe. It is a mental box that I created from all the rules and habits that define where I live and work, who I interact with, what’s acceptable, “safe” behavior, what’s allowed in my family and my culture, what’s bad or wrong behavior, etc. And all those things that I have decided are off limits, too big or too scary to be part of my life, create the walls of my box.
Pain and Boredom as Catalysts
Ultimately my box defines how much of my true self I will share with the world. It’s very hard to be a big presence in the world if I choose to inhabit a tiny little box. But my little comfort zone of a box provides continuity and safety for me – no one wants to live in a completely unpredictable world where everything is new and unknown all the time. And my little box may be beautiful and fun for me. But as time passes my comfortable little box of a life may come to feel constrictive and limiting; I may begin to feel caged up and ache for something new.
The most amazing box can ultimately become downright painful; mine certainly did in the months before I decided to get divorced from my first husband. Or maybe I inhabit the same comfortable box for so long and come to know every corner of it so well, that I find myself bored to tears by its predictability. That was the case for several years before I chose to completely shift gears and change careers.
When I am bored or in pain, I am way more willing to stretch and embrace a little of the unknown. And I am way more likely to seek out change. I may decide to take a class, go on a trip, change jobs, start exercising, change my diet… 18 years ago I took a huge leap and got divorced – but only after aching for a change for years. I am only human; change, big change is most likely to happen when my box becomes too painful or too boring to bear for another second.
Pushing My Limits
Every shift or change I have ever made, involves expansion; I end up pushing against the limits of my old comfort zone. And like most people, I am willing to wait a long time and put up with a lot of boredom or pain before I try to change my life. It’s great to feel safe and comfortable. And change can be very uncomfortable and scary. But when my box becomes too painful or restrictive, I eventually reach an internal tipping point. Then I am willing to swallow my trepidation and make a change in my life.
With every change, I inevitably run up against my old limits; I push up against the walls of the safe and known box I’ve been living in. Or if I shift fast, I may even completely blow through the walls of my box before I realize it! When I run into, or completely blow by my old familiar limits, I feel fear – it’s not very comfortable to be outside my old box at first. And I am likely to find ways to contract again and sabotage myself. I get shaky and try to talk myself out of the shift. Or I decide I can’t handle the change or don’t know how to change. Ever insecurity of mine rears its ugly head!
Craving and Sabotaging Change
When I feel shaky, it’s natural to want to to crawl right back inside my old box; to run back to my old comfort zone, even when a huge part of me is still aching and crying out for something bigger, something more. But I’ve learned that it helps me immensely to remember that whenever I grow and expand, I will knock up against the walls of the comfortable “box” I’ve been living in. And when I do, I will feel quite vulnerable and fearful. It’s part of the process. I find it comforting to realize that I am just being human whenever I get scared and sabotage my own growth and change. I may even give myself a little slack if I can remember that all of us tend to do stupid, self-defeating things when we’re in a new world and feel off-balance and scared.
Realizing that it’s human nature to both crave and fight against change, helps me relax and give myself some grace. When I can own that part of me that fears and fights against change, I find it’s easier to pay attention and catch myself whenever I start to contract back into my safe little box. So, when I catch myself sabotaging the change and growth that I actually crave, I have a choice; I can berate and verbally beat myself up for being so dumb. I can give up and jump back in my old box and forget about every changing. Or I can try to treat myself with loving kindness; I can realize how vulnerable it feels to be outside my comfort zone. And do it anyway.
“Do one thing every day that scares you.”
~Eleanor Roosevelt
How I Expand and Start Living Outside My Box:
1. Breathe and pause. Look around at life outside my old comfort zone; try to explore a little. Allow myself to take baby steps into the new world outside my old box. If I push or rush myself, I only trigger more fear and confusion and upset. Eleanor Roosevelt suggests doing one thing a day, not 20! Easy does it. There is no need to muscle through all my fear and confusion at once.
2. Own my fear and shakiness and confusion. Just allow myself to FEEL it all. Try not to stuff it or run from it. Remind myself again and again that it’s completely normal to feel this way when I jump outside my old comfortable box and land in a new unknown place! Chaos, fear and confusion are normal after any change – especially at first.
3. Breathe and ask, “is this fear – or curious excitement – or both jumbled up within me?” When I ask this, I usually find that a big chunk of what I am feeling is actually excitement at being in a new place outside my box. And curious excitement is way less loaded with negative charge than fear is. 🙂
4. Do things that blow off stress and give me physical comfort; exercise, get a massage or energy work, take long soaks in the bathtub, dance. Get my body grounded and moving in my expansive new world. I have learned that as soon as I get my physical body grounded, I start to feel 1000% better.
Breathing and owning my fear and confusion at being out of my comfort zone is key for me. If I can breathe and stay with those big hairy feelings of vulnerability and exposure, then the fear dissipates. And I can slowly calm down and ground in this new space. I can feel my way into how to get comfortable and embrace my brand new, exciting and scary, more expansive box.