The thing about teaching independent living skills is that, once the kid has the skills, they have a choice. If the kids never learn the skills, they don't have a choice. --My supervisor
If you're run by your mind, although you have no choice, you will still suffer the consequences of your unconsciousness, and you will create further suffering. You will bear the burden of fear, conflict, problems, and pain. The suffering thus created will therefore force you out of your unconscious state. --Eckhart Tolle
I heard the first of these quotes during day two of our two day start-of-the-year staff meeting and annual hazing ritual at work a few weeks ago. It was the end of the day, and the group was discussing the importance of independent living skills, especially for high school students with visual impairment. I won't say that I wasn't paying attention, but I will say that it was 2:45 in the afternoon and visions of lattes were dancing in my head when I heard my supervisor speak in such a way as to send me reeling out of my Whatever-Generation stupor. Hey, I realized, as my thoughts abruptly shifted from Grande Iced Caramel Macchiato-land, that's true, and not only for blind kids!
The second quote was channeled directly into my brain from Eckhart Tolle himself less than 24 hours later.
I'm kidding about this, of course, although I continue to marvel at how iPod earbuds feed sound into my ears in such a way as to occasionally confuse me into thinking that the contents of books such as The Power of Now are arising from my own brain. I will confess that I am loathe to jump aboard the Eckhart Tolle bandwagon on principle. I'm the kind of person who resisted Harry Potter forever, who didn't watch The West Wing until the series was over, who has never seen Pulp Fiction or Forrest Gump, except for maybe a few minutes here or there. I don't have cable television and I generally don't pick up the home phone (this means you can stop calling now, people who want my money). On one fateful day, however, I got curious, started listening, and found myself struck by much of what Tolle says, especially what he says about the concept of choice and how it relates to spiritual growth.
A lot of modern-day spiritual paths, especially those with something of a New Age or New Thought slant, examine how changing one's life for the better occurs through the knowledge and understanding that choosing one behavior over another is a matter of simply making a different choice, the idea being that a person's life can completely transform if they start to make different choices. We might be able to see very clearly that someone else we know and care about seems compelled to behave in a way that makes little sense to us. We may try to talk some sense into that person, try to get him or her to see it our way, and convince that person that they have a CHOICE, and if only they would decide to MAKE that choice, they would be able to lead a life filled with joy, peace, rainbows, and butterflies. We might also look at ourselves and doubt that we can change the fact that we're so judgmental, or that we just don't care about anything. We may wonder why the hell it's taking so damned long for us to notice the areas of our lives where we do not feel like we have choices and to see what new choices we could possibly make.
The problem with these ways of thinking, which I think both my supervisor and Eckhart Tolle allude to nicely, is that people are inclined to learn when they are children. It is second nature, and it is how they are able to grow so quickly and remember new information so well. If you have somehow learn along the way that you do not have a choice about something in your life, either through lack of exposure or active disapproval, you eventually come to firmly believe that you do NOT have a choice. As an adult, once this learning is ingrained, it takes some time to recognize that we have more opportunities for choice than we may have thought, and it takes more time to practice making the new choice.
I think this is all helpful to remember when dealing with the issue of making new choices in life. We're fighting old patterns of behavior and old conditioning, and it takes time to notice that, accept that, let go of that, and acquaint ourselves with a new way of being.
By treating ourselves with kindness for our perceived shortcomings and failures through all of this, we can gradually help this learning process along by making it all right to try something new, fail at it, keep trying, and move forward into a way of life we may have always longed for but haven't really thought could be possible.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Throwing Paint on Walls, and Other Creative Pursuits
Are you artistically inclined? Do you wish you were, but can't draw a straight line to save your life? Do you think that creativity is for people with loads of leisure time? It's my opinion that people can't really afford to avoid creative expression, regardless of how uncreative they may assume themselves to be. It is such a pleasure and a joy to get creative, and helps those of us who are inclined to stick around in our heads too much to shift out of that and loosen up a little.
I had decided that I wasn't really the artistic type up until about three years ago. I was decent at music, having played trombone since fifth grade and having participated in a variety of bands and ensembles. I knew that writing was a strength. For the short time that I was involved in the professional ballroom dance world, I expressed my creativity through movement. From time to time, I would even put together a scrapbook, but generally only did it for people who I was completely certain would not laugh at my use of fluorescent colors with light-reflecting stickers (I cannot help but think that my students with Cortical Visual Impairment would have a field day). Yet I didn't think of myself as particularly creative.
So when I stood in the middle of Michael's one day, wondering what on earth I could possibly do for a new project, I had the most peculiar impulse to buy a bunch of painting supplies. I got the cheapest oil paints I could find, some canvas, and the cheapest bunch of brushes. I figured that going cheap would make the purchase hurt less if I later decided that I wasn't that interested. Also, I was certain it was going to look like crap, and at the time, I couldn't see how I could possibly value a painting if it was going to look like crap in the end.
I found out later that oil paint takes an eternity to dry, but no bother. I had completed my first painting! I had managed to get completely lost in a creative activity for the first time in quite awhile, and it turned out that losing myself was beneficial, because the painting was beautiful. I think that this first painting is still my favorite.
Nowadays, I continue to paint when the mood strikes. Yet I also find it extremely soothing to paint when I am going through a stressful time or grappling with an issue that just won't let go.
Since I finally own my own house, I'm delighted by the prospect of painting the walls however I want to paint them. There is the possibility that Josh might veto paintings featuring monsters or other scary creatures, but he was excited to hear that I wanted to take each wall of our kitchen island and paint a different picture for each season.
Summer was inspired one evening not too long ago by an issue that just wouldn't let go. I put on some music, turned on the very cool decorative lights that line the edge of the kitchen island, and went to work. Several hours later, I had summer on my wall for year-round enjoyment.
A few days later, the weather had changed, and I was struck with an inspiration to paint for autumn. The leaf in the foreground was saved from last year's painting because the spouse really liked it. The rest of the painting is far superior to last year's, probably because I was just having a good time and not caring whether or not it looked crappy.
Creativity is so crucial in helping us all to shift our perspectives on life, especially when we can let go of the fruits of our creative energy as being something upon which to base our worth, success, or status. If we have something that we can pour creative energy into -- music, writing, sports, dance, art, theater, dress-up with the kids, building tree forts, whatever -- it can shake us back into the sense of wonder and delight that we had as kids when we got ourselves truly immersed in play.
I had decided that I wasn't really the artistic type up until about three years ago. I was decent at music, having played trombone since fifth grade and having participated in a variety of bands and ensembles. I knew that writing was a strength. For the short time that I was involved in the professional ballroom dance world, I expressed my creativity through movement. From time to time, I would even put together a scrapbook, but generally only did it for people who I was completely certain would not laugh at my use of fluorescent colors with light-reflecting stickers (I cannot help but think that my students with Cortical Visual Impairment would have a field day). Yet I didn't think of myself as particularly creative.
So when I stood in the middle of Michael's one day, wondering what on earth I could possibly do for a new project, I had the most peculiar impulse to buy a bunch of painting supplies. I got the cheapest oil paints I could find, some canvas, and the cheapest bunch of brushes. I figured that going cheap would make the purchase hurt less if I later decided that I wasn't that interested. Also, I was certain it was going to look like crap, and at the time, I couldn't see how I could possibly value a painting if it was going to look like crap in the end.
I found out later that oil paint takes an eternity to dry, but no bother. I had completed my first painting! I had managed to get completely lost in a creative activity for the first time in quite awhile, and it turned out that losing myself was beneficial, because the painting was beautiful. I think that this first painting is still my favorite.
Nowadays, I continue to paint when the mood strikes. Yet I also find it extremely soothing to paint when I am going through a stressful time or grappling with an issue that just won't let go.
Since I finally own my own house, I'm delighted by the prospect of painting the walls however I want to paint them. There is the possibility that Josh might veto paintings featuring monsters or other scary creatures, but he was excited to hear that I wanted to take each wall of our kitchen island and paint a different picture for each season.
Summer was inspired one evening not too long ago by an issue that just wouldn't let go. I put on some music, turned on the very cool decorative lights that line the edge of the kitchen island, and went to work. Several hours later, I had summer on my wall for year-round enjoyment.
A few days later, the weather had changed, and I was struck with an inspiration to paint for autumn. The leaf in the foreground was saved from last year's painting because the spouse really liked it. The rest of the painting is far superior to last year's, probably because I was just having a good time and not caring whether or not it looked crappy.
Creativity is so crucial in helping us all to shift our perspectives on life, especially when we can let go of the fruits of our creative energy as being something upon which to base our worth, success, or status. If we have something that we can pour creative energy into -- music, writing, sports, dance, art, theater, dress-up with the kids, building tree forts, whatever -- it can shake us back into the sense of wonder and delight that we had as kids when we got ourselves truly immersed in play.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Off the Hook
The first few days of school this year have been filled with hectic pacing, meetings, scheduling, paperwork, challenging phone calls, difficult e-mails, and driving. Through the day-to-day reality of working in school districts, tension and anger have been creeping back into my life baring giant yellow teeth and smelly demon breath. I find myself back in old habits and patterns of thought, yet more deeply aware to them and present to them as I feel them inviting me to further release my grip on them.
I'd really like to write this post in a way that will meet everyone's approval so that I can look really good, really wise, really enlightened, really spiritual. It's not gonna happen. The truth is that I do great work of trying to shut certain feelings out of my conscious awareness with active resistance. I'm finding the process of getting the fact that separating from my felt experience of life from the rest of life gets me nowhere to be a really, really, reeeally slow one. Sometimes my feelings are overpowering in their negativity. Other times, I feel overcome with neediness and the longing for someone else to notice what I do. One moment, I'm singing along to David Bowie, the next minute I've flipped off and cursed out someone who's gradually easing their way in front of my car for the fifteenth time that day. In my attempts to grow and learn spiritually, I am sometimes harder on myself than anyone I know. I try to master it and get it right in the same way I used to practice times tables or shooting on goal or pulling off vibrato on the trombone that doesn't sound like a seizing elephant. I rarely let myself off the hook in the way that I do for others, and then I wonder what I am so angry about. I marvel at people who claim not to judge themselves. I figure they're either lying, oblivious, or nuts. I imagine that I would feel blissful if I were one of those lucky souls.
Since I've had an empty house this evening, I've been able to work with the tension and anger I feel around being in a helping profession where I sometimes feel like I'm helping absolutely nobody. How can I be supportive and helpful to others if I treat others as though they were more precious than gold, while discounting and dismissing my own value as a human being in the process? The answer I came up with this evening (like all the other times I've explored this) is that I simply can't. Maybe I can instead treat myself with just a little more kindness with my next thought, with maybe just a touch more compassion. Maybe I can accept that the transition into a new school year after summer vacation, minor as it may be, is still a transition and requires acceptance and surrender.
Plunking myself down in a chair in the living room, I wonder, now what the hell do I do? I glance out the window, where I can see the sun beginning to set over the hills in the distance. The birds are chirping and a cool breeze blows in through the open windows. One cat creeps delicately by my feet and jumps soundlessly into the window; another curls himself up at my feet. As the leaves rustle and the wind chimes ring, I find myself grateful for the beauty around me in the moment. While I'm not exactly happy or energized, a little wisp of peace rises in my heart. For right now, that's plenty good enough.
I'd really like to write this post in a way that will meet everyone's approval so that I can look really good, really wise, really enlightened, really spiritual. It's not gonna happen. The truth is that I do great work of trying to shut certain feelings out of my conscious awareness with active resistance. I'm finding the process of getting the fact that separating from my felt experience of life from the rest of life gets me nowhere to be a really, really, reeeally slow one. Sometimes my feelings are overpowering in their negativity. Other times, I feel overcome with neediness and the longing for someone else to notice what I do. One moment, I'm singing along to David Bowie, the next minute I've flipped off and cursed out someone who's gradually easing their way in front of my car for the fifteenth time that day. In my attempts to grow and learn spiritually, I am sometimes harder on myself than anyone I know. I try to master it and get it right in the same way I used to practice times tables or shooting on goal or pulling off vibrato on the trombone that doesn't sound like a seizing elephant. I rarely let myself off the hook in the way that I do for others, and then I wonder what I am so angry about. I marvel at people who claim not to judge themselves. I figure they're either lying, oblivious, or nuts. I imagine that I would feel blissful if I were one of those lucky souls.
Since I've had an empty house this evening, I've been able to work with the tension and anger I feel around being in a helping profession where I sometimes feel like I'm helping absolutely nobody. How can I be supportive and helpful to others if I treat others as though they were more precious than gold, while discounting and dismissing my own value as a human being in the process? The answer I came up with this evening (like all the other times I've explored this) is that I simply can't. Maybe I can instead treat myself with just a little more kindness with my next thought, with maybe just a touch more compassion. Maybe I can accept that the transition into a new school year after summer vacation, minor as it may be, is still a transition and requires acceptance and surrender.
Plunking myself down in a chair in the living room, I wonder, now what the hell do I do? I glance out the window, where I can see the sun beginning to set over the hills in the distance. The birds are chirping and a cool breeze blows in through the open windows. One cat creeps delicately by my feet and jumps soundlessly into the window; another curls himself up at my feet. As the leaves rustle and the wind chimes ring, I find myself grateful for the beauty around me in the moment. While I'm not exactly happy or energized, a little wisp of peace rises in my heart. For right now, that's plenty good enough.
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