Nothing can exist without its opposite

Batman needs, and wouldn’t exist without, villains like The Joker. Cold only has meaning if we understand it in relation to hot. The same goes for up and down. War cannot exist in a world that does not also include peace. Samsara and Nirvana (not the band) are inextricably linked. Every act of creation is first an act of destruction. Life – death – life.

What you want cannot exist in a world free of what you don’t want. It is a continuum. One pole cannot exist without its opposite.

The alchemy, the gold, amongst this otherwise dreary news is that you can only experience one pole at a time. Let me say that again. If you are experiencing Love, you cannot experience Hate at that moment. If you are experiencing Freedom, you cannot be experiencing Captivity. If you are experiencing Success, you cannot at that moment be experiencing Failure. Scientists have even proven that if you are experiencing Empathy you cannot be, in that moment, capable of Violence.

Don’t believe me. And please, ignore the science. This weekend when you are feeling rage at the toddler who will not sleep/listen muster empathy for their predicament and notice what changes. When you are judgmental, see what happens when you move to a place of compassion. Or, for shits and giggles, when you are joyously enjoying the sun and the relaxed pace of the weekend try to feel frustration and see if you succeed.

I would love to know how you go. xxx

Weekend Meditation – Questioning

What not to say over the ‘morning tea’ table at a Baptist-run play group:

Our play group is a combination of women of the Baptist congregation and local (mostly secular) women. For the most part the play group is non-religious, but there are small clues as to the pastoral background of the group. Signs on the toilet doors to ask that we make a special effort to take care of the house of God. Children’s bible stories mixed in with the picture books. Singing grace before we eat our morning tea.

We didn’t sing grace last week. Perhaps that is why I forgot where I was. Some of the mothers were discussing the recent difficulties they were having with their toddlers. Their children prefer to eat of other people’s plates. Not thinking I offered a theory I had read online; There is an evolutionary impetus for children eat off adult’s plates. It is an instinct left over from our evolution from cave people – the food the elders of the tribe ate was safe to eat.

The theory itself wasn’t the point. The point was that I take my belief in evolution for granted. So much so I offered it as an explanation to people who (from their reactions – no stereotyping) clearly weren’t as convinced as I by Darwin’s Theory.

My question to you is this:

What do you take for granted? What beliefs have you stopped questioning? Are the certainties in your life solid, or do they crumble like tissue paper when questioned?

Preparation

The universe has a beautiful way of preparing me for what comes next. An art so beautiful, organic and simple that I miss the clues if I am not paying enough attention.

I have a good idea of what is coming next. I have been pregnant before. I can expect in the next 6 months to be more and more at the mercy of my body as she does what she must to create life. I serve my body as best I can and she goes about the most amazing miracle ever witnessed on earth. For the following 6 months after that I can expect to be at the beck and call of a tiny, pure blob of divinity incarnate as a child. It is not what I am being prepared for that I am listening to. Its the how that has my attention.

I am being reminded to let go of the parts of my life that will not support me in the next 12 months. I am being gently corralled into the mindset of service. I am being asked to let go of my wants, and to follow my needs. I am being nudged, strings are being pulled, the unhelpful are being weeded. The process is slow, gradual, but by no means subtle.

Mother nature is thorough. Everything she does has a clear purpose, and I am content (in my enlightened moments) to accept that I may never understand her purpose for me. But I do understand what mother nature is doing now. The morning sickness is to take my focus from my mental sphere and bring me into my body. The lethargy is to curb my immediate ambitions, to force me to prioritise what I do. The insistent cold that lingers because it cannot be medicated safely is to remind me that the baby comes first. The weakened state of my body that hasn’t the reserves to build little organs and fight an infection is to force me to ask for help. The lost voice is to remind me to witness more and talk less; it is time to go within.

There are no mistakes. We may not know why all the levers are pulled when they are, but we can rest assured they create the perfect conditions to prepare us for what lies beyond.

Are you paying attention? What are you being asked to prepare for?

*image credit

Turbulance

When I catch up with people I havent seen in a while they inevitably end up asking a few of the same questions;

• How are you feeling?
• Is it [the morning sickness] as bad as last time?
• When do you find out what sex the baby is? (Everybody knows I hate surprises!)
• How was Cairns?
• How did Cooper go on the plane?

The first 4 answers are stock standard. Crap. No. About 21 weeks. Great! The last one makes me smile every time.

Cooper was great, terrible, trying and adorable on the plane. He was polite to the air hostesses. He was as quiet as a 2 year old can be for 3 hours at a time. He was as still as a 2 year old can be for 3 hours at a time. Which is to say he talked and moved more that I’d like. He listened to classical music through his headphones with the concentration that a teenage ‘emo’ listens to their ipod. (But without the raincloud hovering over him.) He had the seat belt worked out before the seat belt sign came on on the tarmac, so he was far more free in the cabin than was entirely safe. But he also had the brace position down to a ‘T’, so he knew how to be  safe if was actually in his seat when the turbulence struck.

Thankfully, he was in his seat when the turbulence struck. We had a very turbulent landing. Not in the ‘Gee that was rough’ kinda way. The passengers closest to us were actually in the brace position as we came in to land. I was nauseas (when am I not these days?) and slightly green but sitting upright. I didn’t want to frighten Cooper. I had nothing to worry about. He was pointing out the window at all the cool things he was seeing. Clouds, little tiny cars on teeny tiny roads, minuscule buildings and beaches. His smile was as bright as the setting sun. His muscles were relaxed and he was totally at ease.

The thought of that landing always brings a smile to my face. Yes, in part because I didn’t throw up on the man beside me. Also because we were coming home to my darling husband. But mostly because it showed me innocence in action. Cooper was totally free of judgement, absolutely fearless, joyful, in the moment and only seeing the magic of the moment. I know one day he will see the risks, the inconveniences, the fear like most adults. I can only hope he doesn’t completely loose his joy.

Mind-full

Mindful is an interesting word. We always have a mind-full. It is the nature of the mind to think, to jump from thought to thought.

The biggest gift, and the most fun, to be had in my meditation classes were always the debunking the myths session at the very beginning. Everybody was always so relieved to hear they didn’t have to stop their minds thinking to meditate. People used to laugh out loud when I said your mind will never stop thinking, it is a little playful monkey that jumps from thought to thought never letting go of one until it has a hold of the next. Such was the realisation that working against the mind was futile, indeed insane. Instead we would explore ways to work with the mind, to lure it, to train it, to observe it, to witness it, to harness it and to meet it half way.

I know the experience of preparing for meditation only to realise you are hungry, then realising you skipped lunch because work was crazy, then remembering ‘oh shit!’ I didn’t get to send that email before I left, oh and when I left did I turn my computer screen off? – I am always forgetting to do things like that, then I shouldn’t be too hard on myself all this negative self talk can’t be helpings things, things… things to do, crap am I out of milk? Maybe I should get milk on the way home,  maybe I’ll get up early and have breakfast at that little cafe next door to work, I really love that place, chai tea and raisin toast, my ipod and sunshine - almost like a little meditation. Meditation! Fuck! That is what I am supposed to be doing already…

We always have a mind-full. They key is being aware of what our mind is full of. And, as often as possible emptying the mind except for the thoughts we choose to focus on. The easiest thought to focus on, especially for beginners is;

I am breathing in. I am breathing out.

Whenever your mind wanders, like the cheeky monkey it is, simply return to the thought ‘I am breathing in. I am breathing out.’ Even minutes of this every day will make a difference. Don’t believe me. Please, don’t. I would prefer you try it over the weekend and see for yourself. xxx

Weekend Meditation: Bahkti

Love for Love’s sake.

The thought makes me sigh deeply and shiver all over. In a good way. In the best way really.

• Giving because you have it in you to give.
• Caring because you can.
• Tending to the sick, the disadvantaged, your loved ones.
• Serving not from obligation but from joy and love.
• Doing everything you do with love.

If you care cooking dinner, imbue it with love.

If you are playing with your child, concentrate on your love for them in that moment. (Especially when its hard to find.)

If you are cleaning the kitchen, loose the begrudging thoughts and choose to serve those in your family happily.

Ensure your work is a devotion of some kind, to others, to your grand vision.

Whatever you do, do it with love. Not for reward, not for glory, just for love’s sake.

NB: Bhakti Yoga is a complex. And I do not mean any disservice in simplifying it and applying it to the life of a householder, but these days few of us are monks. I certainly am not. As spiritual as I consider myself, I still operate within the normal bounds of society. Though, sometimes escaping to an ashram for days of meditation, yoga and labour sounds like pure bliss. And we need not be monks to dedicate ourselves to love for love’s sake.

200 posts and changes to come

I started this blog 200 posts ago as a way to stop me from losing my mind. I am not sure how successful I have been in that endeavor. I guess I will let you decide.

Over the course of the past 18 months or so my life has taken on a new trajectory. Some of those around me saw it coming. I sure as hell didn’t. It is cliche, and oh-so-fashionable to say, but Motherhood changed me. And soon it is going to change my blog.

Motherhood isn’t going away. It isn’t getting any easier. It isn’t taking up any less of my time, energy or focus. Motherhood is making me a better person, it is changing my perspective and changing what I have to offer. Days from hell aside I am a peaceful, calm, compassionate a relatively centered Mum. I am not the best housekeeper, I am not the most organised, but I’m going with my strengths here.

My emerging strengths are;

• Being mindful
• Honesty
• Finding the meaning in the mundane
• Walking the Spiritual Path of Motherhood
• Everyday Meditation (not to be confused with meditating every day. I wish!)
• Research. I am a research and synthesis energiser bunny (As my lovely father pointed out to me today)

So over the coming weeks you will see some changes to my blog. Hopefully you will like the changes as much as I do. I will me making the delineations clearer for those who don’t relate to the motherhood stuff, getting a little more organised (this will include a new posting schedule) and making things easier to navigate (and hopefully prettier).

I’d love to hear your thoughts and suggestions. What should I quit doing? What should I do more of? xxx

*photo credit

Is objectification a prerequisite for sex?

“I have no problem with women objectifying men in ads, or men objectifying women in ads. Because, really, the only reason we [humans] are still here after 65 million years, is because someone has been shagging.”  - The Gruen Transfer.

I’m sorry, did I miss something? Since when was objectification a prerequisite for sex? Is it because I am a woman that sex to me is more than visual attraction and physical possession?

Need I be terrified that men today subscribe to this theory that in order to perform a most intimate act, which is at its heart prone to our deepest vulnerabilities, they must first objectify their partner and presumably protect their manliness? Have I got it all wrong? Please tell me I have it all wrong.

I understand that sex isn’t always a beautiful thing. Sometimes is it about pure base attraction, heat, pheromones, friction, sweat and climax. Great sex for the sake of great sex, is still great sex. But can it really be great if it is essentially one object fucking another? Barbie and Ken in the sack was never the hottest idea.

Something tells me that our pop culture adopting the values and aesthetics of soft porn may have something to do with this theory. And really, the Gruen Transfer is a show about advertising and we all know that the advertising industry have been justifying the proliferation of the male gaze and over-sexualisation with the simple catchphrase ‘Sex sells”. The prude in me asks; at what cost.

Everybody with two grey cells to rub together knows that the brain is our sexiest organ. If it weren’t then natural selection over the past 65 million years would have produced an aesthetically superior race by now. And that simply isn’t the case. So, how is it that a comment about objectification on a national TV program so flippantly accepts objectification as a part of sex?

For me all I hear are warning bells. Are our young women growing up understanding the in order to be attractive (and receive physical love) they must come pre-objectified; spray tanned to within an inch of their lives, hair highlighted, teeth bleached, hairless except for that on their heads, carefully styled to appeal to the narrowest possible idea of sexy? Are our young men growing up understanding that in order to be a man they must act like the degrading assholes you see in most porn these days (professional or amateur) and order women around, ‘take’ all three orifices available, include ‘light’ bondage and spanking and end ejaculating on her face?

How oh how can we restore intimacy to sex? I think it begins by reversing the over-sexualisation of our youth, introducing instead real sexual education (i.e. something more than sex is bad and dangerous don’t do it), by adding erotica to challenge the stronghold [mostly] degrading porn has on the ever-growing market, and by individually asking more for our partners. If it is normal these days to objectify, demean, humiliate in our sex lives then I say let’s do something radical like honour, respect, and worship in our sex lives too.

*Photo credit

Writing mojo

I am finding it really difficult to write at the moment. Interesting that my writing mojo seems to evaporate directly after 21 days of the Bindu Wiles 21.5.800 challenge.

Part of my difficulty writing is because recently I have been afraid to write. Terrified of noting down that was knocking around inside, words are power you know. Part of it is that it’s not appropriate to share what is in my mind and heart at the moment. Part of it is that my creative energies are being funneled off in a different direction. I already know what happens when my creativity finds a muse.

It happened a few years ago. I thought there was something very wrong with me. I was young, in a blissfully happy partnership, loving my work. My creative juices were flowing in my work. I had just begin teaching meditation and leading a spiritual development group. Spiritually and vocationally I was alive; on fire. Sexually, I was dry as a bone.

I couldn’t work it out. I knew this happened sometimes to women. But older women, right? Not me. Not at 23 for fucks sake! Yeah I have some crappy sexual history, but it wasn’t the cause. Though my body betraying my mind and refusing to become juicy, that sure and hell bought it up. To this day I find it ironic that being unable to be sexual bought up sexual shame. (But that is another post for another day; how women seem to take responsibility for, and find shame in, our sexuality regardless of whether we are over or under sexual.)

I was lucky at the time to have a sage on my team. A wonderful woman who has decades of learning (and teaching) on me and is all too generous in sharing her wisdom. I had her to go to. She taught me to heal my sexual shame, with my partner, by tapping into our collective shame embodying it completely. A truly harrowing and healing experience. She also explained to me the nature of my creative feminine power.

I learned then that my creativity can do more than one thing at a time, but it [I] can’t serve two masters at once. Instead I do one well and feel stifled in the other. Then it was grow into my new role and vocation I did well and sex that was stifled. Now, my creativity is busy and writing has become the other.

I shall believe

Please excuse my recent absence. Things have been kind of crazy. That special kind of crazy that happens just before momentum begins. Well, we finally have momentum, and in some ways I credit my #21.5.800 journey for that. The movement is on a long-term project though and it will probably take a few months to solidify, so forgive me too for not sharing the details here now.

The place I am in at the moment is an interesting one. I haven’t been here before, but I have done this before. I have begun projects. I have made commitments. I am a planner by nature. If you need planning or nurturing, I’m your girl. I have just never undertaken it from this perspective before.

Normally a happy Rae (thats what my friends call me, Rae, and if your reading this I guess you’re a friend now. Right?) in the past was busy with a happy dance. Usually a staccato, groovy happy dance. Not a flowing belly dance. Not that I am a great dancer either way. Happy Rae of the past would do a lot of bouncing on the spot, some running on tippy toes, lots of running around, going to meet people , in general lots of doing. My best friend describes me as excitable if that gives you a clearer picture.

Currently I am happy. Very, very, very, happy actually and yet I have no urge to bounce.

I have not bounced, run on tippy toes or rushed to organise get-togethers. I have a pervading sense of stillness. I have grown quiet. I have become calm. I am acutely, almost painfully, aware of the balance of all things. I have grown more tender and more compassionate. My happiness has made me more generous of heart. On a profound level I feel more connected and a greater urge to give. Even to myself.

I have grown gentler and softer. I have bypassed the rigidity of excitement and the expectation that accompanies good news. I am hopeful. I am open. I am unguarded. I have slowed down. Despite my joy and hope I am also in touch with the sadness and loss of life. I am not experiencing sadness in my life right now, but it exists none the less. And I feel it.

Sheryl Crow’s I shall believe is one of my all time favourite songs. It speaks of sadness, hope and healing. In it I see the transition from the anguish of loss to the bliss of returning to glory. That place between anguish and bliss, of neither but aware of both; this seems to be my new home. The place of mindful compassion and faith is where I find myself now.

Where are you?

Empty

Awesome as it [enlightenment] may seem, it is without actual substance and is ultimately empty. Emptiness as a spiritual goal, however, does not inspire transformational zeal in people. — Ajahn Sumano Bhikkhu

I haven’t reached enlightenment, yet. Working on it though.

Right now I do feel empty, in more ways than one. Sigh.

Emptiness offers itself up to be filled, lets hope I am full soon. For now, I am making friends with the space, staring into the void, accepting the emptiness & trying hard not to feel hollow.

There isn’t much to write about emptiness. Perhaps my next experience will be more exciting.

Final thoughts

A few weeks back I was searching. I had written in my journal that I was looking for something. In the past when I needed a guide they appeared before I realised how important they were. Now, I am acutely aware of my need for a guide AND the absence of one. So, either my guide is dragging their feet or they aren’t coming. My money is on the fact that I am on my own this time.

*Sigh*

Doing the work has never bothered me. Facing uncomfortable truths, making friends with what terrifies me, learning to love what I judge, this I can do. But do it alone? Do it without a mentor or a process? Help!

I know why I am on my own this time too, part of this leg of my journey is about trusting myself, my inner compass and the resources I have within.  Knowing this wouldn’t stop me clinging to a teacher if there was one near by. So the universe stepped in and helped me out; no guides, only guidelines. Guidelines in the most unexpected way.

As I was wrestling with the realisation that my journey henceforth was guided by my heart alone I discovered Bindu Wiles and her stroke of inspiration 21.5.800. At the time I didn’t recognise it for what it was, I made the commitment on the spot thinking it would fill in the gap until I figured out my next step. What  I discovered was a direct line to my heart (my guide), a structure and a huge community of like-minded souls to act as inspiration and cheer leaders. I found, in large part, what I had been looking for.

My thoughts on the journey are in their infancy, probably too misty and unformed yet to be coherent. But I have another 10 days to go, so I’ll work on clarifying them. I do know I feel different. I feel clearer. I feel less lost. I feel hopeful. I feel inspired. I feel like something is coming. I feel like the cogs of the universe have begun to turn. I feel relieved. I feel excited. I feel blessed. I feel centered.