"I am correct. Basically correct. Not entirely correct. I am wrong."
--brief conversation I had with myself
Monday, March 27, 2017
Sunday, March 26, 2017
Monsters: being eaten and eating
Oh my. It's getting close to April. And my classes and internship end right around the first week of May, which means I have only around 6 weeks left of this semester and this internship. This is both a relief, and a bit terrifying. It's a relief, because, well, it's really stressful. Large homework load, learning all this new stuff on the job, being responsible for all these little people, and feeling like I have neither enough expertise, experience, or time, to do them justice. To do justice to anything I need to do.
I'm really a fan of quality over quantity. But that's not an option here. Thus is the nature of grad school, at least for the majority.
And the terrifying bit of how soon the end is coming: how many things there are left undone. Oh my. Quite a lot. Quite a lot indeed.
On a different note, I've been practicing feeling into all these negative emotions: fear, loneliness, not being good enough. It's a practice where I am just very present and aware of what's going on in me, in a non-judgmental, curious, kind way.
It's as if I take this monster that is eating me, let's say anxiety about an upcoming class I'm going to be teaching, and I grow big enough to hold it in my hands. It's no longer eating me, surrounding me. There is a certain objective distance from it, and in that distance, that perspective, there is enough comfort in the discomfort to just sit with the feelings that are going on and be acutely aware. In that awareness, and in that detachment, and in that acceptance... well, it's like the monster I'm holding melts away to nothing, or transforms into a cute little animal, that's just frightened and needs love. And I'm now in the position where I can pet it and give it that love, which was not the case when it was right up in my face, eating me. And sometimes it just kind of dissolves, and if the situation comes up again, it comes up less intense, and is more quickly recognized and held. The eaten has become the eater. I'm integrating these... like jagged shards of a broken mirror, being smoothed and combined back into a single mirror again, that doesn't cut and hurt me, that doesn't show a distorted image of life, but just reflects back what is. Which is love, God, truth, reality. Whatever you choose to call it, the experience is peaceful, joyful, loving, beautiful.
Part of getting that distance is the recognition that I am not the emotion, feeling, thoughts, that I'm experiencing. They are an experience that I'm having, ultimately separate from me, like a movie screen I'm watching is separate from me.
The emotions can still be quite intense. They can feel like a phisical hit to the solar plexus, or someone squeezing my heart, for example. I still feel them, like I still see the movie screen. But... it's hard to explain.
It's kind of like, maybe I believe I'm a bad person for watching Netflix all Saturday instead of working. And I think it's right that I should feel bad about it. And I'm worried about whether the people I interact with will still like and respect me, knowing this about me.
But if I can take a step back, I see that these thoughts are just... clouds passing by. Some of them may end up being true, perhaps someone will be angry with me for not doing enough work. Though that's not generally my experience. And the other stuff, that I'm a bad person, that I should feel bad about it... there's no fundamental truth to it. Just mind stuff. It could be someone else whispering the words into my ears. It could be someone else poking my body, making it feel the physical sensations. The emotions could be based on totally incorrect data, like feeling totally alone, even though my best friend is reading quietly in the next room, and I've just forgotten that.
I still feel everything, in fact I'd say I feel it more. But I feel it from a stable place. like I'm feeling the tides and waves coming in and out, as I hold onto a big rock sticking out of the water, head comfortably above water, rather than being tossed about by the waves, feeling the current and direction much less, getting disoriented, exhausted, drowned.
And I feel, as I hold whatever negative stuff is going on like this, that it is getting less negative. The fear and anger and such are dissolving like the morning dew under the rising sun. And it would be much harder to find all these pockets of negativity and fear etc., without my life circumstances bringing them up, in my face, day after day. So in that way, all this unpleasantness is highly useful. My weaknesses, fears, wounds, are all being poked, being thrown up in my face, where it's hard to ignore them.
How convenient, for someone who is looking to grow and make whole all these shattered fragments of myself. If life was easy, It might take years and years for me to find all these things. To find even a few of them.
So, in that way, this is one of the most useful times of my life, and I owe much to the stressful and anxiety-producing circumstances I'm in, especially since I also have wonderful teachers reminding me over and over to do this gentle holding with the various darknesses that are coming up.
Even so, I don't always remember to do it. Or it doesn't seem to work right away. Or perhaps I'm not quite able to get that distance with some of them. But progress is happening. Things are opening, and as more and more light comes into the hurt, scared, dark places, I feel myself opening and becoming more soft, more sturdy and stable. But it is very challenging work.
That is certainly all for this week. I have much and more to do. But it really is wonderful, how perfectly the universe guides me to what I need, even when it's not what I would have chosen or asked for, short term. It is what I need, to get to my goal, long-term.
With gratitude for all of life, even the uncomfortable stuff.
-Isaac
I'm really a fan of quality over quantity. But that's not an option here. Thus is the nature of grad school, at least for the majority.
And the terrifying bit of how soon the end is coming: how many things there are left undone. Oh my. Quite a lot. Quite a lot indeed.
On a different note, I've been practicing feeling into all these negative emotions: fear, loneliness, not being good enough. It's a practice where I am just very present and aware of what's going on in me, in a non-judgmental, curious, kind way.
It's as if I take this monster that is eating me, let's say anxiety about an upcoming class I'm going to be teaching, and I grow big enough to hold it in my hands. It's no longer eating me, surrounding me. There is a certain objective distance from it, and in that distance, that perspective, there is enough comfort in the discomfort to just sit with the feelings that are going on and be acutely aware. In that awareness, and in that detachment, and in that acceptance... well, it's like the monster I'm holding melts away to nothing, or transforms into a cute little animal, that's just frightened and needs love. And I'm now in the position where I can pet it and give it that love, which was not the case when it was right up in my face, eating me. And sometimes it just kind of dissolves, and if the situation comes up again, it comes up less intense, and is more quickly recognized and held. The eaten has become the eater. I'm integrating these... like jagged shards of a broken mirror, being smoothed and combined back into a single mirror again, that doesn't cut and hurt me, that doesn't show a distorted image of life, but just reflects back what is. Which is love, God, truth, reality. Whatever you choose to call it, the experience is peaceful, joyful, loving, beautiful.
Part of getting that distance is the recognition that I am not the emotion, feeling, thoughts, that I'm experiencing. They are an experience that I'm having, ultimately separate from me, like a movie screen I'm watching is separate from me.
The emotions can still be quite intense. They can feel like a phisical hit to the solar plexus, or someone squeezing my heart, for example. I still feel them, like I still see the movie screen. But... it's hard to explain.
It's kind of like, maybe I believe I'm a bad person for watching Netflix all Saturday instead of working. And I think it's right that I should feel bad about it. And I'm worried about whether the people I interact with will still like and respect me, knowing this about me.
But if I can take a step back, I see that these thoughts are just... clouds passing by. Some of them may end up being true, perhaps someone will be angry with me for not doing enough work. Though that's not generally my experience. And the other stuff, that I'm a bad person, that I should feel bad about it... there's no fundamental truth to it. Just mind stuff. It could be someone else whispering the words into my ears. It could be someone else poking my body, making it feel the physical sensations. The emotions could be based on totally incorrect data, like feeling totally alone, even though my best friend is reading quietly in the next room, and I've just forgotten that.
I still feel everything, in fact I'd say I feel it more. But I feel it from a stable place. like I'm feeling the tides and waves coming in and out, as I hold onto a big rock sticking out of the water, head comfortably above water, rather than being tossed about by the waves, feeling the current and direction much less, getting disoriented, exhausted, drowned.
And I feel, as I hold whatever negative stuff is going on like this, that it is getting less negative. The fear and anger and such are dissolving like the morning dew under the rising sun. And it would be much harder to find all these pockets of negativity and fear etc., without my life circumstances bringing them up, in my face, day after day. So in that way, all this unpleasantness is highly useful. My weaknesses, fears, wounds, are all being poked, being thrown up in my face, where it's hard to ignore them.
How convenient, for someone who is looking to grow and make whole all these shattered fragments of myself. If life was easy, It might take years and years for me to find all these things. To find even a few of them.
So, in that way, this is one of the most useful times of my life, and I owe much to the stressful and anxiety-producing circumstances I'm in, especially since I also have wonderful teachers reminding me over and over to do this gentle holding with the various darknesses that are coming up.
Even so, I don't always remember to do it. Or it doesn't seem to work right away. Or perhaps I'm not quite able to get that distance with some of them. But progress is happening. Things are opening, and as more and more light comes into the hurt, scared, dark places, I feel myself opening and becoming more soft, more sturdy and stable. But it is very challenging work.
That is certainly all for this week. I have much and more to do. But it really is wonderful, how perfectly the universe guides me to what I need, even when it's not what I would have chosen or asked for, short term. It is what I need, to get to my goal, long-term.
With gratitude for all of life, even the uncomfortable stuff.
-Isaac
Sunday, March 19, 2017
Soul-oh-weak and some silver lining
So. I have a (probably) very interesting and (certainly) very long post, about this last week. But it's massive and unedited. Like a giant slab of raw meat, that would make a bunch of excellent hamburgers, if ground up, seasoned and grilled, but is inedible in its current state.
So I think you're just getting this for now. Here is the update on solo-week:
It was pretty bad.
I cried in the car for a little bit, Thursday, between the end of the solo week and the beginning of my classes, at 1 pm. Just drove into the university parking lot, at the back, and cried until it was time for class. I felt like I was doing a bad job, and, more painful, I felt like I didn't know how to do anything to change that for the future. The feeling of having failed the students, compounded with the vision of how much good I could be doing, theoretically, versus how little I was actually doing, compounded with only getting 4 hours of sleep the night before, all lead to the result of feeling pretty dang horrible.
In terms of how the classes went objectively, it was between fine to bad. My lessons are ok, or even good sometimes, and I love the kids and they can feel it. But my teaching skills are still basic. Most noticeable and uncomfortable, my discipline/classroom management skills are insufficient to create a nurturing, safe, focused learning environment. It gets a little Lord of the Flies in there. Not from everyone. But from enough that it's too loud, some aren't focusing, and are making it harder for others to focus. I'm too busy to do all the things that need doing, and the students who are not self-motivated are slipping through the cracks a bit, avoiding actually doing work, and I'm not able to carrot/stick them into doing it. Either I don't know how to, or I don't have time to, with all the other stuff going on.
My super awesome professors are trying to help me out as much as possible, so I at least have some new things to try. But I can't help dreading my next solo day (there was a snow day, so I'm going to eventually make a day up.) and I couldn't help doing almost nothing productive this weekend, as I nursed my wounds, convalesced, and tried to self-comfort. It would be really nice to have some nearby friends I could go for walks with, but the closest are 35 minutes away. I can't just pop over and see who wants to go for a walk. I need to schedule that a week in advance. So rather than the healthy introvert recharge activities like low-key, playful events with a few good friends, I watch videos of other people being with their friends, playing and having a good time in ways I'd like to be doing.
I realize this is not very healthy. But I'm tired and busy.
I am working on it. I know it has to change. But I'm not exactly sure of what will recharge me, and what will just drain me more. Or, if I am sure of something, I'm not sure how to make it happen. A good solution would be another quiet friend, that I can just chill with, doing work or occasionally chatting with/going on walks. I bet this is why some people get pets. Or romantic relationships. I'm not yet recuperated, either, thanks to the particularly punishing week. And here comes Monday.
O.0
So I guess solo-week was actually worse than I had anticipated. That's unusual.
On the plus side, the more difficult and unpleasant stuff I go through, the more I become inured to the more mundane discomforts of life, like asking girls out to coffee. (Not that I've done that lately, (have I done that ever?) but it's becoming less uncomfortable as an idea, in comparison.)
And also on the plus side, it continues to be great practice, for learning how to be comfortable in the midst of discomfort. If I can be happy and relaxed being an inept new teacher who cares deeply about helping kids and is failing them, I can probably be happy and relaxed in 90% of the situations life has to offer. 98%, if we're just talking about my life.
Silver linings everywhere.
Isaac out
P.S. I feel like this is the kind of post that gets worried emails delivered to me. I'm not fishing for that, I don't want that, I'll be fine. This too shall pass and all that jazz. But if you are a good friend and nearby, I'd love to go for a walk sometime. Or a Friday-night/Saturday skype, if you're far away.
So I think you're just getting this for now. Here is the update on solo-week:
It was pretty bad.
I cried in the car for a little bit, Thursday, between the end of the solo week and the beginning of my classes, at 1 pm. Just drove into the university parking lot, at the back, and cried until it was time for class. I felt like I was doing a bad job, and, more painful, I felt like I didn't know how to do anything to change that for the future. The feeling of having failed the students, compounded with the vision of how much good I could be doing, theoretically, versus how little I was actually doing, compounded with only getting 4 hours of sleep the night before, all lead to the result of feeling pretty dang horrible.
In terms of how the classes went objectively, it was between fine to bad. My lessons are ok, or even good sometimes, and I love the kids and they can feel it. But my teaching skills are still basic. Most noticeable and uncomfortable, my discipline/classroom management skills are insufficient to create a nurturing, safe, focused learning environment. It gets a little Lord of the Flies in there. Not from everyone. But from enough that it's too loud, some aren't focusing, and are making it harder for others to focus. I'm too busy to do all the things that need doing, and the students who are not self-motivated are slipping through the cracks a bit, avoiding actually doing work, and I'm not able to carrot/stick them into doing it. Either I don't know how to, or I don't have time to, with all the other stuff going on.
My super awesome professors are trying to help me out as much as possible, so I at least have some new things to try. But I can't help dreading my next solo day (there was a snow day, so I'm going to eventually make a day up.) and I couldn't help doing almost nothing productive this weekend, as I nursed my wounds, convalesced, and tried to self-comfort. It would be really nice to have some nearby friends I could go for walks with, but the closest are 35 minutes away. I can't just pop over and see who wants to go for a walk. I need to schedule that a week in advance. So rather than the healthy introvert recharge activities like low-key, playful events with a few good friends, I watch videos of other people being with their friends, playing and having a good time in ways I'd like to be doing.
I realize this is not very healthy. But I'm tired and busy.
I am working on it. I know it has to change. But I'm not exactly sure of what will recharge me, and what will just drain me more. Or, if I am sure of something, I'm not sure how to make it happen. A good solution would be another quiet friend, that I can just chill with, doing work or occasionally chatting with/going on walks. I bet this is why some people get pets. Or romantic relationships. I'm not yet recuperated, either, thanks to the particularly punishing week. And here comes Monday.
O.0
So I guess solo-week was actually worse than I had anticipated. That's unusual.
On the plus side, the more difficult and unpleasant stuff I go through, the more I become inured to the more mundane discomforts of life, like asking girls out to coffee. (Not that I've done that lately, (have I done that ever?) but it's becoming less uncomfortable as an idea, in comparison.)
And also on the plus side, it continues to be great practice, for learning how to be comfortable in the midst of discomfort. If I can be happy and relaxed being an inept new teacher who cares deeply about helping kids and is failing them, I can probably be happy and relaxed in 90% of the situations life has to offer. 98%, if we're just talking about my life.
Silver linings everywhere.
Isaac out
P.S. I feel like this is the kind of post that gets worried emails delivered to me. I'm not fishing for that, I don't want that, I'll be fine. This too shall pass and all that jazz. But if you are a good friend and nearby, I'd love to go for a walk sometime. Or a Friday-night/Saturday skype, if you're far away.
Saturday, March 11, 2017
Snow Day
"Bobby, you're going to be late for school!" Said Bobby's mother, knocking on his bedroom door.
"I'm not going to school!" Came the stubborn reply.
"OK, how about you tell me three good reasons why you shouldn't go to school today."
"Everybody hates me there! I don't wanna go, and you can't make me!"
"OK, now listen to me, because I'm going to give you three better reasons why you are going to school today, Robert B Koblinger. One, I'm your mother and I know what's best for you. Two, you're 43 years old, and three, you're the principal!"
Is it morally wrong that I'm the teacher and I'm hoping for a snow day from the upcoming winter storm?
(Anti-plagiarism: I did not make up the joke. Or draw the Calvin and Hobbes)
Happy Storms
("Spring is Coming"makes me think of Game of Thrones.)
"I'm not going to school!" Came the stubborn reply.
"OK, how about you tell me three good reasons why you shouldn't go to school today."
"Everybody hates me there! I don't wanna go, and you can't make me!"
"OK, now listen to me, because I'm going to give you three better reasons why you are going to school today, Robert B Koblinger. One, I'm your mother and I know what's best for you. Two, you're 43 years old, and three, you're the principal!"
Is it morally wrong that I'm the teacher and I'm hoping for a snow day from the upcoming winter storm?
(Anti-plagiarism: I did not make up the joke. Or draw the Calvin and Hobbes)
Happy Storms
("Spring is Coming"makes me think of Game of Thrones.)
Over the pool and through the clowns, to Grandfather's house we go (sung to the tune of "over the hills and through the woods...")
This is probably going to be a short one. I think. I hope. Not that I prefer to write short ones. But I'm feeling rushed. You see, my solo teaching week is coming up, and I have much to prepare before then. It's kind of nerve-wracking. Some people have told me that Tuesday might be a snow day, and I'm happy about this! Shouldn't I be looking forward to school, like I look forward to classes at my college?
At least it's helping me sympathize with the other students. Still, I would really prefer it if I could create a classroom where both I and the kids look forward to coming to enough that they don't want a snow day. I admit, I may be the only one in my graduate class that was actually disappointed when we had a snow day, so perhaps that's kind of rare. But no, the other people want to be there too. They're just more exhausted than me, probably.
There is a distinct difference between us and my kid's though: we graduates are self-selecting. Nobody is making us go to graduate school. That's a huge difference, and so maybe requires a different dynamic.
I talked with some dear friends yesterday, and one of them is a newish high school teacher (that is, she taught college students at graduate school, but this is her first year with high school) and it was very soothing to hear how she was also exhausted and a little crazed and occasionally staying up till 1 am playing Word of Warcraft because it was all just too much and she needed a break, an escape from it. This was soothing because I felt the same way (in general. No WoW for me these days, but I did just binge on Avatar: the Last Airbender) and it was good to know I was at least not particularly inept and overwhelmed, but just within fairly normal parameters for such things.
I continue to hold that this is an excellent training ground for learning to hold balance and equanimity amid a highly unbalenced environment. But at the moment I've been tipped over and dunked, to be expected as one learns to walk the tightrope over the pool, and I'm feeling the water. And in this analogy the water symbolizes feeling anxious and overwhelmed and generally like a rabbit that has just heard a coyote howling nearby.
I've got lots of resources and strategies to get back on the rope, and I appreciate the practice and my continual improvement, but the fact remains that being cold and wet is not fun. (which makes for good motivation to stay balanced.)
This analogy breaks down or gets unnecessarily complicated, with me carrying weights, or having fishing lines hooked into me that are pulling me off the tightrope when I add the fact that me being anxious etc. is really a bunch of old thinking habits and patterns and self-beliefs that knock me down. Feeling unworthy, or not good enough, or unlovable.
I suppose, in the tightrope-over-the-pool analogy, I'm afraid of clowns, and right now I'm walking through a pool full of inflated clowns. I keep getting freaked out and falling off. When the pool was not full of clowns, I was fine. But really, if I want to stop having this issue, I need to get over my fear of clowns.
That is, my issues with self-doubt, lack of self-compassion, and perfectionism, let's say. And that takes time and effort and persistence and vulnerability and courage. I'm working on it, as I can.
I'm wrapping this up now (so much for short, but it at least didn't take me that long to write it... I think... when did I start this?) I want to tie up the title: "Grandfather" is the affectionate nickname for the90-year-oldd Lipan Apache shaman and scout who trained Tom Brown Jr., and one of the most loving, funny, and kick-butt people I've ever heard of. One of my favorite quotes of his (misquoted, of course) is when Tom asked him who his role model was, and he replied, "The highest Vision of myself." Or something like that. His own highest potential. I love that. Rather than trying to be like someone else awesome, try to be like the best version of yourself you can imagine.
Welp, that's all. Now you can just sit back in your comfy chairs and nap while I squirm and flail and get back to you next time with the results of my solo week. You get to enjoy one of my favorite aspects of reading other people's stories: half the adventure with none of the calories (discomfort).
Goodbye, good night, see you when the time is right.
May your paths wind through peaceful and fantastic forests.
-Isaac
At least it's helping me sympathize with the other students. Still, I would really prefer it if I could create a classroom where both I and the kids look forward to coming to enough that they don't want a snow day. I admit, I may be the only one in my graduate class that was actually disappointed when we had a snow day, so perhaps that's kind of rare. But no, the other people want to be there too. They're just more exhausted than me, probably.
There is a distinct difference between us and my kid's though: we graduates are self-selecting. Nobody is making us go to graduate school. That's a huge difference, and so maybe requires a different dynamic.
I talked with some dear friends yesterday, and one of them is a newish high school teacher (that is, she taught college students at graduate school, but this is her first year with high school) and it was very soothing to hear how she was also exhausted and a little crazed and occasionally staying up till 1 am playing Word of Warcraft because it was all just too much and she needed a break, an escape from it. This was soothing because I felt the same way (in general. No WoW for me these days, but I did just binge on Avatar: the Last Airbender) and it was good to know I was at least not particularly inept and overwhelmed, but just within fairly normal parameters for such things.
I continue to hold that this is an excellent training ground for learning to hold balance and equanimity amid a highly unbalenced environment. But at the moment I've been tipped over and dunked, to be expected as one learns to walk the tightrope over the pool, and I'm feeling the water. And in this analogy the water symbolizes feeling anxious and overwhelmed and generally like a rabbit that has just heard a coyote howling nearby.
I've got lots of resources and strategies to get back on the rope, and I appreciate the practice and my continual improvement, but the fact remains that being cold and wet is not fun. (which makes for good motivation to stay balanced.)
This analogy breaks down or gets unnecessarily complicated, with me carrying weights, or having fishing lines hooked into me that are pulling me off the tightrope when I add the fact that me being anxious etc. is really a bunch of old thinking habits and patterns and self-beliefs that knock me down. Feeling unworthy, or not good enough, or unlovable.
I suppose, in the tightrope-over-the-pool analogy, I'm afraid of clowns, and right now I'm walking through a pool full of inflated clowns. I keep getting freaked out and falling off. When the pool was not full of clowns, I was fine. But really, if I want to stop having this issue, I need to get over my fear of clowns.
That is, my issues with self-doubt, lack of self-compassion, and perfectionism, let's say. And that takes time and effort and persistence and vulnerability and courage. I'm working on it, as I can.
I'm wrapping this up now (so much for short, but it at least didn't take me that long to write it... I think... when did I start this?) I want to tie up the title: "Grandfather" is the affectionate nickname for the90-year-oldd Lipan Apache shaman and scout who trained Tom Brown Jr., and one of the most loving, funny, and kick-butt people I've ever heard of. One of my favorite quotes of his (misquoted, of course) is when Tom asked him who his role model was, and he replied, "The highest Vision of myself." Or something like that. His own highest potential. I love that. Rather than trying to be like someone else awesome, try to be like the best version of yourself you can imagine.
Welp, that's all. Now you can just sit back in your comfy chairs and nap while I squirm and flail and get back to you next time with the results of my solo week. You get to enjoy one of my favorite aspects of reading other people's stories: half the adventure with none of the calories (discomfort).
Goodbye, good night, see you when the time is right.
May your paths wind through peaceful and fantastic forests.
-Isaac
Sunday, March 5, 2017
In Memoriam: While you were Sleeping
Perhaps I shouldn't admit I'm surprised whenever I find a new person that reads my blog. It's just that, blogger lists views to my blog, and usually they are around 3-5, per post, unless I post a reminder to facebook. So I assume my regular viewership is 3-5 people. More than that is a surprise, and a puzzle: how blogger is not counting them?
In any case, I just found another regular viewer, who commented favorably about how I'm pretty good about getting a blog post out every week, so I'm feeling compelled to write one before the new week begins. Though it would be easy now, at 9:13 pm, to turn off the light and go to sleep almost instantly. But here we are.
This Thursday, a dear friend of my family passed away. She spent most of her life doing loving service for people in various forms, and as her body was slowly breaking down, she showed a remarkable humor and warmth that reminds me of a Vietnam war vet I met at a Tom Brown course. It seems that, for some people who go through really difficult things, faced with the option of crying all the time or laughing, they choose to laugh. I don't think it's an easy choice, though it sounds like the obvious choice to make, from a third person perspective. I consider it a rather heroic choice. They are served up a lot of physical and mental pain, and they are choosing to respond not by closing down and getting bitter, but by laughing at it, and getting other people to laugh and smile too. Truly the way of the peaceful warrior.
In any case, on that morning, before I had gotten the message. My giant lingam on my altar, which is the central element of my alter, fell over, scaring me and chipping one of my other crystals. This happens very infrequently, and it always seems to indicate something energetically powerful going on. Though the lingam is egg shaped and resting in a small cup/bowl of sorts, I position it carefully and test it from all angles to make sure it's secure, and it doesn't fall more than once ever 6 months or so, maybe longer. So I knew something was up, but I didn't know what.
I wish I could remember the order of what happened next. But I don't know whether I saw the emails yet. Probably. As soon as I saw them, I understood the lingam falling. But then, on the drive up to my school, I witnessed the most incredible sunrise. There were deep blue fluffy clouds floating along, interspersed with brilliant golden light making the tips of trees on hilltops shine brilliantly. It was beautiful. And then, as I turned a corner with more of those "God Rays" shining through, I saw a full on, huge, vivid rainbow. It was dimmer around the top, but it went all the way around, a complete half circle, ending in a brilliant golden pool of light illuminating a huge bucolic meadow amidst the otherwise mellow blue light. It gave the distinct impression that going there would reveal some kind of treasure or revelation.
All this accompanied by a soft misty rain.
Nature's way of adding a little exclamation point to the fact that this soul that just passed was worth noting for her loving, kind, strong heart, and that she was much loved by the universe. Something that could perhaps be missed, since she was also very simple, humble and unassuming. This seems to be the rule rather than the exception, when it comes to particularly bright souls.
She passed away peacefully, in her sleep, this Thursday.
(Note: this is not the rainbow I saw. I was driving, and preferred to just soak up the beauty and awe rather than unsafely scramble for my phone camera.) But this gives a little bit of the jist of it.)
In other news, I discovered, "Stranger Things" a Netflix original series, thankfully only 8 episodes long, that a friend of mine thought I would love. She was very emphatic about this. She was even more right than she suspected.
I rarely watch more than one or two episodes of anything these days, because even if it's engaging, I'm too busy to just be engaged. I demand that stories be masterful works of art. Otherwise, I'm just wasting my time. This show is so well done it makes my head spin. I could watch and listen to the intro alone for like twenty minutes.
It's like it takes a finger and jabs it into some primal nostalgia/aesthetic pleasure zone of my brain and triggers it constantly. I feel like one of those rats that's been wired up to have it's pleasure center triggered every time it touches the lever. These rats end up dieing of starvation/thirst because all they do all day is press the lever repeatedly. That's kind of the experience of watching this show for me.
I won't say it's perfect. The creepy bits are too creepy, and the very end leaves room for a second season, which is something I hate (I like my stories to have good satisfying closure. Also it means it's going to wrench another several hours out of my clenching fingers, whenever it becomes available, because I am probably physically incapable of stopping myself from watching it.)
I don't know how much people who are not me would like it. There are references to D&D which other people might find charming, but not nearly as powerful and meaningful and nostalgia-inducing as they are for me. In any case, if you want an idea of one facet of my aesthetic, done to an absolutely perfect sheen, take a look at this show, subtract out about 7/10ths of the creepiness, and add in a more elegant, self-contained and wrap-everything-up ending. And if your aesthetic is anything like mine, don't start it if you have something else you need to get done that day.
I normally don't really keep track of how long I spend on my blog posts. I just know the answer is "too long" but since I made a note in the post at the beginning of when I started this, perhaps you are curious, as I was, about how long it actually took to write and edit something like this. Currently, it is 10:20 pm.
Good night, and much love.
May your paths be happy ones. May your friends be true. May you spend your days in laughter, love, and service.
-IO
In any case, I just found another regular viewer, who commented favorably about how I'm pretty good about getting a blog post out every week, so I'm feeling compelled to write one before the new week begins. Though it would be easy now, at 9:13 pm, to turn off the light and go to sleep almost instantly. But here we are.
This Thursday, a dear friend of my family passed away. She spent most of her life doing loving service for people in various forms, and as her body was slowly breaking down, she showed a remarkable humor and warmth that reminds me of a Vietnam war vet I met at a Tom Brown course. It seems that, for some people who go through really difficult things, faced with the option of crying all the time or laughing, they choose to laugh. I don't think it's an easy choice, though it sounds like the obvious choice to make, from a third person perspective. I consider it a rather heroic choice. They are served up a lot of physical and mental pain, and they are choosing to respond not by closing down and getting bitter, but by laughing at it, and getting other people to laugh and smile too. Truly the way of the peaceful warrior.
In any case, on that morning, before I had gotten the message. My giant lingam on my altar, which is the central element of my alter, fell over, scaring me and chipping one of my other crystals. This happens very infrequently, and it always seems to indicate something energetically powerful going on. Though the lingam is egg shaped and resting in a small cup/bowl of sorts, I position it carefully and test it from all angles to make sure it's secure, and it doesn't fall more than once ever 6 months or so, maybe longer. So I knew something was up, but I didn't know what.
I wish I could remember the order of what happened next. But I don't know whether I saw the emails yet. Probably. As soon as I saw them, I understood the lingam falling. But then, on the drive up to my school, I witnessed the most incredible sunrise. There were deep blue fluffy clouds floating along, interspersed with brilliant golden light making the tips of trees on hilltops shine brilliantly. It was beautiful. And then, as I turned a corner with more of those "God Rays" shining through, I saw a full on, huge, vivid rainbow. It was dimmer around the top, but it went all the way around, a complete half circle, ending in a brilliant golden pool of light illuminating a huge bucolic meadow amidst the otherwise mellow blue light. It gave the distinct impression that going there would reveal some kind of treasure or revelation.
All this accompanied by a soft misty rain.
Nature's way of adding a little exclamation point to the fact that this soul that just passed was worth noting for her loving, kind, strong heart, and that she was much loved by the universe. Something that could perhaps be missed, since she was also very simple, humble and unassuming. This seems to be the rule rather than the exception, when it comes to particularly bright souls.
She passed away peacefully, in her sleep, this Thursday.
(Note: this is not the rainbow I saw. I was driving, and preferred to just soak up the beauty and awe rather than unsafely scramble for my phone camera.) But this gives a little bit of the jist of it.)
In other news, I discovered, "Stranger Things" a Netflix original series, thankfully only 8 episodes long, that a friend of mine thought I would love. She was very emphatic about this. She was even more right than she suspected.
I rarely watch more than one or two episodes of anything these days, because even if it's engaging, I'm too busy to just be engaged. I demand that stories be masterful works of art. Otherwise, I'm just wasting my time. This show is so well done it makes my head spin. I could watch and listen to the intro alone for like twenty minutes.
(youtube video of the intro)
It's like it takes a finger and jabs it into some primal nostalgia/aesthetic pleasure zone of my brain and triggers it constantly. I feel like one of those rats that's been wired up to have it's pleasure center triggered every time it touches the lever. These rats end up dieing of starvation/thirst because all they do all day is press the lever repeatedly. That's kind of the experience of watching this show for me.
I won't say it's perfect. The creepy bits are too creepy, and the very end leaves room for a second season, which is something I hate (I like my stories to have good satisfying closure. Also it means it's going to wrench another several hours out of my clenching fingers, whenever it becomes available, because I am probably physically incapable of stopping myself from watching it.)
I don't know how much people who are not me would like it. There are references to D&D which other people might find charming, but not nearly as powerful and meaningful and nostalgia-inducing as they are for me. In any case, if you want an idea of one facet of my aesthetic, done to an absolutely perfect sheen, take a look at this show, subtract out about 7/10ths of the creepiness, and add in a more elegant, self-contained and wrap-everything-up ending. And if your aesthetic is anything like mine, don't start it if you have something else you need to get done that day.
I normally don't really keep track of how long I spend on my blog posts. I just know the answer is "too long" but since I made a note in the post at the beginning of when I started this, perhaps you are curious, as I was, about how long it actually took to write and edit something like this. Currently, it is 10:20 pm.
Good night, and much love.
May your paths be happy ones. May your friends be true. May you spend your days in laughter, love, and service.
-IO
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