for a long time, I believed that my mother hated me, despised me and wished me dead. I didn't make this up, she literally would scream, "I wish you were never born" so many times througout my lifetime. this made it pretty easy to come to this conclusion. On other nights, in a sobby voice, she'd whimper, "do you love me?"
my response was always, "yes mommy, I do love you. of course I do."
the stroke. some early morning in march, I get a call... it's not a surprise I had been trying to reach my mom through a busy signal for a few days. they were rushing her to the emergency room.
my mother was in the hospital in critical condition, and there we were (my sister and I) in her home. in her house without her in it. it felt weird, like she had died, like we were uninvited guests, like her ghost was everywhere. the place was so uncomfortable. looking for answers, trying to find my way I opened a drawer in her room and found an envelope, legal in size with a label from an attorney's office. it was her living will, her proxy and well...
the cover letter explicitly stated that I was evil, harmful, and that I would get nothing. she left everything to my sister and her ex-husband (my father) and a paultry trust for my son which he would get when he turned 23. nothing. her last words to me, embroiled on a page, spiteful, scathing, spitting words that I can see running past my eyelids day after day. she had printed out copies of my blogs (including pages from this one), other things she had googled, such as pages from a novella I wrote as evidence that I was deserving of one thing.. her hatred of me. (she will probably add a copy of this entry as more proof)
despite the fact that I read this document that pronounced me disowned, I continued to care for her day after day in the hospital. she couldn't move, barely speak, communicate clearly. I knew, my job as her daughter, was to keep her in a state of comfort, to wipe her down, feed her food, do whatever she needed to grasp onto bits of dignity and get cared for. yes, her will that explicity said I'm this horrible child existed, but my unconditional love for her prevailed. it still does.
I went to see my mother today, I brought her sumptious bagles and smoked fish, flowers, cleaned parts of her house, did errands. over coffee, we shared personal feelings and I let her know things that I felt were important. we spoke of her relationship to my son, the challenges I face as a single parent, and in that moment, I felt her mommy'ness. she was listening. we tackled a big job of cleaning up her jewelry drawer. I lovingly took apart the boxes of chains, trinkets, baubles and such and organized them in a way that made is easy for her to find the things she can still put on by herself. she gave me things, chunky earings, charm bracelets... much to my surprise. at the end of the organization, I offered to move the jewelry box so that it would be easier for her to reach, and moved a stack of neatly piled tank tops. in that instant, her face grimmaced, she shook and screamed... her emotional state automatically turned from calm and happy to this evil scary yelling mess. she couldn't handle it, I had made an unauthorized change in her wardrobe. while I assured her that I would make the pile perfect on the new shelf, it was too late.. she lost it.
screaming at me, calling me horrific insults, slurring and getting physical... the feelings that are all too familiar began to arise.
normally, I'd fight back, slam the box down on the ground, slam a door, yell back... but this time... I didn't!
mindfully, I completed the task of making her shelves neat as she raved besides me. I watched her, looked into her eyes and practiced metta, compassion and equinimity. I spoke back calmly. once the things were nicely arranged, I contined this state of mindfulness. I could feel the feelings, but I had the strength not to react. I didn't need to, it wouldn't change the fact that my mother is sick. not just physically sick, but mentally. it's not just brain dammage she endured, she is mentally ill.
my mother suffers from deep depression, mental illness, something I never understood before. I learned this while she was in the hospital. of course, to an outsider, this may have always been obvious. to me, I just saw a mother who hates me. I don't think she does, it's more that she is living in such a dark place, she can't be the mother I want, the one I deserved but never got.
you would think while hearing her scream horrific things about my hideious looks, my zoftic size, my lack of intelligence, what a horrible mother I am, and countless other things that roll so easily off her vitriolic tongue that I would react. well, a different version of me would.
because I now have the knowledge that she's sick, I am able to understand that she's in too much pain to know any better. she thinks it is ok to be this way, because that's all she knows. she's never gotten treatment, or therapy or taken any steps to get better. there's medication, a pile of drugs that are and are not prescribed, but this isn't the way out. sadly, I just see her deteriorating emotionally more and more, her illness engulfing her every fiber.
as my mother was physically pushing me out the door and yelling at me, in the way she usually does, I had an awakening... I didn't have to react. I didn't have to let it in. as I walked out ... calmly, I said, "I forgive you, mommy, I forgive you."
Showing posts with label equanimity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label equanimity. Show all posts
Monday, July 16, 2012
Thursday, July 7, 2011
broken
thirteen years of yoga.
four years of hard core spiritual buddhist work.
1207 days of clean time.
things I gained... equanimity, community, peace, joy, gratitude... broken ... all so quickly. I blame no one but me. every choice for every situation I put myself in lead me to this moment.
my physical health is suffering greatly, and I know this is related to the emotional pain. I'm not taking good care of me. over the past week, I've developed kidney stones. this isn't something new. the pain is so severe that the best way to explain it, "I'd rather give birth to 5 10lb babies again and again than pass another kidney stone in my lifetime."
the medicine... pain killers and some other medications. I have not taken them as prescribed, instead, I only took them if the pain was acute to avoid abusing the meditations. yesterday, I had to take more than I wanted to, and in tandem with the other medication, my head went crazy. I lost my sober clear mind to feeling as though I couldn't feel anything physically. my mental capacity is another story. it was like being really fucked up without being high. in a way, the experience was very reminiscent of coming down off of a weekend long coke binge. big depression, huge crash.
for a good chunk of time, whirling in my physical, emotional and drug induced agony, I convinced myself that I had broken my sobriety. that my surrender to say that I needed pain medication was a sign of weakness and relapse.
I cried and sobbed, everything was just awful. and then something came that I didn't expect. as I felt as though I had ended my 1207 days of clean time in a whirlwind of discomfort.... an unexpected sigh of relief came. sigh, finally, it is over. I can be normal now.
I wanted to talk about it, but the emotions were so extensive, I didn't know how. relief came with the idea that I had made it this far and that I could stop working so hard and feeling so much day after day. I was off the hook. I could smoke a bowl and drink a glass of wine like everyone else. for 26 years I didn't have a clue what emotions were. up until I got clean, I assumed I might actually be one of those sociopaths, because I was so passionately cool and ambivelent about things people seemed to think I needed to react differently towards. men considered me cold, Ice Queen was a nick name I relished.
last night, after leaving the office, walking down the street, sunglasses on, playing my iPod, sucking in Lafayette where I have walked countless times at countless hours for countless reasons, moving slowly towards the subway ..... the rush came, I was overcome by the realization that it was official, I had been anhilated by life and fully broken.
I know my experience was exacerbated by a combination of sort of involuntary ingestion of medicine I took to help me get past excrutiating physical pain.
in the process of spiraling to the ultimate emotional low, I came to some strong realizations. it has occurred to me that in the path of poor choices I have been making... I have morphed into someone else. for the first time in my life, I stopped being strong and let go of all my armor. I introduced a vulnerable and honest me to another human being, and in a short time I got very hurt. the scary thing is, the person I was turning into was someone I do not like. I loathed watching myself become attached to impossible outcomes and hopeful for a life that was never going to be. My self-control and self respect disintegrated around me, and I compromised myself with the hopes that I could trust someone, and failed miserably at being the true Elissa Jane.
it is sad that it took days of excruciating physical pain combined with the heinous effects of Vicodin consumption to realize that the only way to stop hating myself was to end a relationship I thought would never end.
my heart breaks... and breaks... and breaks. but in reality, the only way I can get myself back is to stay as far away from the person for whom I was so willing to change and change and change.
I tried desperately to please and impress this other person so that I could be appealing to the needs of someone else. every intention I had was to get attention, which I was losing with each and ever moment I was turning into this repugnant needy girl. in the end, I only continued to torture myself more and more to the point that I do not recognize me anymore. where did I go? what happened to the cool, independent, balanced, serene me I worked so hard to become over such a long diligent period of time? it was almost instantaneous that I crumbled over a feeling of daily rejection and perpetual heartbreak for what was not going to happen.
thirteen years of yoga.
four years of hard core spiritual buddhist work.
1207 days of clean time.
and I'm in worse shape than I ever was. where did I go wrong? I can answer that, it just seems like a good moment to post the rhetorical obvious. in the past few months, I've cried more than I did when my dog died. I mourned more loss than when my marriage ended. how did I come to believe so strongly that I had found 'the one' only to discover that I was so incredibly wrong?
technically, according to my friends and support network, I'm still sober. my sobriety has not yet been compromised. while I did get fucked up from drugs, it was not the kind of use that will end my day count.
tonight I sat in the room where I normally facilitate my weekly dharma punx group, and announced that it is time for me to resign. if I am giving up on myself, how can I continue to be in service to anyone else?
when I died a year ago, I had one regret, that I never had the chance to fall in love before the end. well, I almost fully fell, wrongly, deeply, wrongly and now I cannot see... with the big life I have ahead, how I'll ever be able to be open hearted with anyone ever again. visceral connections for aliens like me are almost impossible to come by. I suppose I should be grateful that in this ocean of existence a few of the drops of time included little moments where I felt a 'connection', no matter how slight and immeasurable, at least I know that maybe it is possible. perhaps my next lifetime. oh look, I think I just expelled a hint of gratitude. maybe there's hope for me after all. I don't think I have another 42 years in me to wait for the next one. sigh.
four years of hard core spiritual buddhist work.
1207 days of clean time.
things I gained... equanimity, community, peace, joy, gratitude... broken ... all so quickly. I blame no one but me. every choice for every situation I put myself in lead me to this moment.
my physical health is suffering greatly, and I know this is related to the emotional pain. I'm not taking good care of me. over the past week, I've developed kidney stones. this isn't something new. the pain is so severe that the best way to explain it, "I'd rather give birth to 5 10lb babies again and again than pass another kidney stone in my lifetime."
the medicine... pain killers and some other medications. I have not taken them as prescribed, instead, I only took them if the pain was acute to avoid abusing the meditations. yesterday, I had to take more than I wanted to, and in tandem with the other medication, my head went crazy. I lost my sober clear mind to feeling as though I couldn't feel anything physically. my mental capacity is another story. it was like being really fucked up without being high. in a way, the experience was very reminiscent of coming down off of a weekend long coke binge. big depression, huge crash.
for a good chunk of time, whirling in my physical, emotional and drug induced agony, I convinced myself that I had broken my sobriety. that my surrender to say that I needed pain medication was a sign of weakness and relapse.
I cried and sobbed, everything was just awful. and then something came that I didn't expect. as I felt as though I had ended my 1207 days of clean time in a whirlwind of discomfort.... an unexpected sigh of relief came. sigh, finally, it is over. I can be normal now.
I wanted to talk about it, but the emotions were so extensive, I didn't know how. relief came with the idea that I had made it this far and that I could stop working so hard and feeling so much day after day. I was off the hook. I could smoke a bowl and drink a glass of wine like everyone else. for 26 years I didn't have a clue what emotions were. up until I got clean, I assumed I might actually be one of those sociopaths, because I was so passionately cool and ambivelent about things people seemed to think I needed to react differently towards. men considered me cold, Ice Queen was a nick name I relished.
last night, after leaving the office, walking down the street, sunglasses on, playing my iPod, sucking in Lafayette where I have walked countless times at countless hours for countless reasons, moving slowly towards the subway ..... the rush came, I was overcome by the realization that it was official, I had been anhilated by life and fully broken.
I know my experience was exacerbated by a combination of sort of involuntary ingestion of medicine I took to help me get past excrutiating physical pain.
in the process of spiraling to the ultimate emotional low, I came to some strong realizations. it has occurred to me that in the path of poor choices I have been making... I have morphed into someone else. for the first time in my life, I stopped being strong and let go of all my armor. I introduced a vulnerable and honest me to another human being, and in a short time I got very hurt. the scary thing is, the person I was turning into was someone I do not like. I loathed watching myself become attached to impossible outcomes and hopeful for a life that was never going to be. My self-control and self respect disintegrated around me, and I compromised myself with the hopes that I could trust someone, and failed miserably at being the true Elissa Jane.
it is sad that it took days of excruciating physical pain combined with the heinous effects of Vicodin consumption to realize that the only way to stop hating myself was to end a relationship I thought would never end.
my heart breaks... and breaks... and breaks. but in reality, the only way I can get myself back is to stay as far away from the person for whom I was so willing to change and change and change.
I tried desperately to please and impress this other person so that I could be appealing to the needs of someone else. every intention I had was to get attention, which I was losing with each and ever moment I was turning into this repugnant needy girl. in the end, I only continued to torture myself more and more to the point that I do not recognize me anymore. where did I go? what happened to the cool, independent, balanced, serene me I worked so hard to become over such a long diligent period of time? it was almost instantaneous that I crumbled over a feeling of daily rejection and perpetual heartbreak for what was not going to happen.
thirteen years of yoga.
four years of hard core spiritual buddhist work.
1207 days of clean time.
and I'm in worse shape than I ever was. where did I go wrong? I can answer that, it just seems like a good moment to post the rhetorical obvious. in the past few months, I've cried more than I did when my dog died. I mourned more loss than when my marriage ended. how did I come to believe so strongly that I had found 'the one' only to discover that I was so incredibly wrong?
technically, according to my friends and support network, I'm still sober. my sobriety has not yet been compromised. while I did get fucked up from drugs, it was not the kind of use that will end my day count.
tonight I sat in the room where I normally facilitate my weekly dharma punx group, and announced that it is time for me to resign. if I am giving up on myself, how can I continue to be in service to anyone else?
when I died a year ago, I had one regret, that I never had the chance to fall in love before the end. well, I almost fully fell, wrongly, deeply, wrongly and now I cannot see... with the big life I have ahead, how I'll ever be able to be open hearted with anyone ever again. visceral connections for aliens like me are almost impossible to come by. I suppose I should be grateful that in this ocean of existence a few of the drops of time included little moments where I felt a 'connection', no matter how slight and immeasurable, at least I know that maybe it is possible. perhaps my next lifetime. oh look, I think I just expelled a hint of gratitude. maybe there's hope for me after all. I don't think I have another 42 years in me to wait for the next one. sigh.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Rot Town Road Trip
What a difference a day makes... after a chaotic dramatic Sunday, I entered Monday... open to getting the eff out of dodge and driving an unbelievable five hours to facilitate a 1.5 hour Rochester Dharma Punx meeting. I wasn't sure what was going to ensue, what I would offer or what kind of service I could be to anyone else. My head and heart were battered and done in, my emotional equanimity all off quilter. When I'm not really in a good balanced place, I often feel like a bamboozling shamster, like those guys who used to sell the magic elixir tonics at the turn of the century. I know how to fix you, drink this!
I don't think I really evaluated the length of the drive before I planned on making the journey. It was quite the long venture.
Mind you, I actually LOVE being in my car for long periods of time, I talk on the phone, play my music loud and enjoy the people watching and of course, my love of driving fast is affectionately sated on 270 miles of never ending highway. I was looking forward to my drive time, but snags in the drama of the life I can't control through my co-pilot into the mix, Zbot ended up coming along for the ride. My much-anticipated five hours of alone time was now altered to be keeping the kiddo calm time. We argued over the music, had to stop all the times he had to pee, had to get him food at some MacDonald’s at a rest stop. This was not part of the plan. Nothing leading up to my adventure was part of the plan and let me tell you, life through me some wretched dramatic curve balls before I left for my Rot City adventure.
By the time I landed at the White Lotus Tibetan Buddhist center I was so incredulously emotionally and physically exhausted, I had the shakes. I was worried that I'd be that tonic selling con woman, with nothing authentic to offer. I had rehearsed parts of my dharma talk in my head in the car in between Zbot's ramblings and debates over iPod music selection. I felt like a lower percentage of whole myself, about to present the dharma to a group of strangers who most likely had some expectations about me.
Upon arrival in Rochester, we got a quick bite, which I was very excited about. Instead I spent most of the meal begging my son to eat the quesadilla generously given to him, which was draining on my wanting to devote my attention to my hosts. He was defiant, as he is so very good at. I felt last shreds of my spiritual groovy capabilities slipping from me. .... and I HAD TO PEE! The restaurant wouldn't offer me the use of their bathroom, and I seriously felt my teeth floating the entire meal.
It was time to begin the meeting. I had all sorts of things with me, readings, my cushion, my phone that I use as a timer to arrange. Desperately, I really needed to find a bathroom. I felt like I'd never find that settling space I'm so attached to so that I can do my soft shoe. On top of the hustle to be ready for the meeting, I had my son whimpering about the computer not working and not being able to find his favorite game screaming, oh gads SCREAMING from the other room, "mommy ... mommy." Let me tell you, this shit combined with life's laywoman responsibilities is really fricking hard. I did manage to leave him behind with a stern tone, and nestled myself into my cushion hoping to find space from the stress of the journey and the day behind me.
That is when I quietly took a breath, and another one, and another one, I forced a smile upon my face which gradually went from fixed to authentic as I opened myself to the room, the new faces, the energy of the space and the decor and the Buddhas. In the way I instruct so many others, I set an intention to be of service and my intention was to be in service to EVERYONE who was in that room. That is when the release came. I was relieved of my chaos the moment I set an intention to care for others. When I let go of my needs and self-interest, I became abundantly present and even excited for the moments that would follow.
Like magic, my overall well-being shifted when I made the moment about a bunch of somebody else’s and got over the 'Me Me Me'.
The meeting was amazing, for me. I loved being able to share my take on the dharma, my understanding of the story and the history and my passion for practice. I tuned in to each and every person and brought in his or her ideas. I abandoned the talk I rehearsed from days before, to the night before and on my way in the car for hours and hours. The discussion was about what the group chose and I was neutral about changing everything up for the conscious of the group experience. The meeting went an hour longer than usual. People took turns and shared honestly.
What I was reminded was that there is a reason I've been working so hard at this stuff. I do have a purpose in this community, there is sangha for me wherever I go. I do have something beautiful to offer even in my darker times, all I have to do is turn my attention outward toward the betterment of others and the love of people besides myself. All the craving and dissatisfaction I had arrived with had become irrelevant.
I drove home a different person because I've re-focused my effort towards the connection I have with others. My priorities are not on what I'm not getting in my life ... I'm putting my energy towards being in service and sharing what I can to help others combat their suffering. I have two new sponsees in the Buddhist recovery scene as of today. I'm elated to be working one on one with people who want what I have. Wow, what a concept. People actually want what I have? If only they know all the other stuff I endure... hah hah... well, I am only a mere mortal human, just like everyone else.
I don't think I really evaluated the length of the drive before I planned on making the journey. It was quite the long venture.
Mind you, I actually LOVE being in my car for long periods of time, I talk on the phone, play my music loud and enjoy the people watching and of course, my love of driving fast is affectionately sated on 270 miles of never ending highway. I was looking forward to my drive time, but snags in the drama of the life I can't control through my co-pilot into the mix, Zbot ended up coming along for the ride. My much-anticipated five hours of alone time was now altered to be keeping the kiddo calm time. We argued over the music, had to stop all the times he had to pee, had to get him food at some MacDonald’s at a rest stop. This was not part of the plan. Nothing leading up to my adventure was part of the plan and let me tell you, life through me some wretched dramatic curve balls before I left for my Rot City adventure.
By the time I landed at the White Lotus Tibetan Buddhist center I was so incredulously emotionally and physically exhausted, I had the shakes. I was worried that I'd be that tonic selling con woman, with nothing authentic to offer. I had rehearsed parts of my dharma talk in my head in the car in between Zbot's ramblings and debates over iPod music selection. I felt like a lower percentage of whole myself, about to present the dharma to a group of strangers who most likely had some expectations about me.
Upon arrival in Rochester, we got a quick bite, which I was very excited about. Instead I spent most of the meal begging my son to eat the quesadilla generously given to him, which was draining on my wanting to devote my attention to my hosts. He was defiant, as he is so very good at. I felt last shreds of my spiritual groovy capabilities slipping from me. .... and I HAD TO PEE! The restaurant wouldn't offer me the use of their bathroom, and I seriously felt my teeth floating the entire meal.
It was time to begin the meeting. I had all sorts of things with me, readings, my cushion, my phone that I use as a timer to arrange. Desperately, I really needed to find a bathroom. I felt like I'd never find that settling space I'm so attached to so that I can do my soft shoe. On top of the hustle to be ready for the meeting, I had my son whimpering about the computer not working and not being able to find his favorite game screaming, oh gads SCREAMING from the other room, "mommy ... mommy." Let me tell you, this shit combined with life's laywoman responsibilities is really fricking hard. I did manage to leave him behind with a stern tone, and nestled myself into my cushion hoping to find space from the stress of the journey and the day behind me.
That is when I quietly took a breath, and another one, and another one, I forced a smile upon my face which gradually went from fixed to authentic as I opened myself to the room, the new faces, the energy of the space and the decor and the Buddhas. In the way I instruct so many others, I set an intention to be of service and my intention was to be in service to EVERYONE who was in that room. That is when the release came. I was relieved of my chaos the moment I set an intention to care for others. When I let go of my needs and self-interest, I became abundantly present and even excited for the moments that would follow.
Like magic, my overall well-being shifted when I made the moment about a bunch of somebody else’s and got over the 'Me Me Me'.
The meeting was amazing, for me. I loved being able to share my take on the dharma, my understanding of the story and the history and my passion for practice. I tuned in to each and every person and brought in his or her ideas. I abandoned the talk I rehearsed from days before, to the night before and on my way in the car for hours and hours. The discussion was about what the group chose and I was neutral about changing everything up for the conscious of the group experience. The meeting went an hour longer than usual. People took turns and shared honestly.
What I was reminded was that there is a reason I've been working so hard at this stuff. I do have a purpose in this community, there is sangha for me wherever I go. I do have something beautiful to offer even in my darker times, all I have to do is turn my attention outward toward the betterment of others and the love of people besides myself. All the craving and dissatisfaction I had arrived with had become irrelevant.
I drove home a different person because I've re-focused my effort towards the connection I have with others. My priorities are not on what I'm not getting in my life ... I'm putting my energy towards being in service and sharing what I can to help others combat their suffering. I have two new sponsees in the Buddhist recovery scene as of today. I'm elated to be working one on one with people who want what I have. Wow, what a concept. People actually want what I have? If only they know all the other stuff I endure... hah hah... well, I am only a mere mortal human, just like everyone else.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
The Goats Ate My Mala Beads
I was in Los Angeles, just finishing my fourth weekend of Dharma Punx Facilitator Training. I was on a bit of a high, excited about everything that was to come. The weekend was spiritually fruitful and educationally productive. I learned a great deal from my peers and teacher, and had the connection and feeling that things were really gelling.
When I arrived at the beginning of the weekend, and my fellow trainees asked the proverbial opener, "how are you?" I honestly answered with... "I'm feeling an equanimity I've never quite felt before. Highs and lows, but I'm just rolling with it."
On Monday, June 21st, while sitting in an Internet Cafe in Venice, after being WiFi-less for so many days, I logged in and began my usual work routine, updating, writing, crafting, sending, doing, clearing... preparing for the workload I had on my plate.
But .... things weren't as they seemed moments before. Some bad news, a surprise lost client, some more bad news.... a dark cloud was growing on my computer screen. All this stuff was coming at once. My phone was blowing up, my texts screen bleeping, my emails parading in... all with different shades of bad I had no control over.
I sat there, far from home, very far from home, scrambling while sipping a $4 Organic Hibiscus Mango Ginger Iced Tea I suddenly couldn't afford. How the fuck was I going to get home? And would my EZ Pass go through when I try to get my car out of the JFK Lot. Will I have enough for gas to get home? And when I get home, can we eat?
FRACK!
I scrambled, updating my resume and posting ads on CL for jobs cleaning houses, painting houses, babysitting and spanking men for money. Anything I could think of that I could do, phone sex, laundry, admin assistant. Panicking in this state, trying to be mindful. Over and over I kept saying, "Just for today, you're in an Internet Cafe with an overpriced Iced Tea and you're alive and breathing."
I made it home. My car did start. My car got out of the lot. I got my son. I drove upstate. I didn't pass go or collect $200.
Zman went to school the next morning and I opened up Craigslist Help Wanted Ads... and then I found an ad that surprised me. It was an ad for an Admin Asst at Catskill Animal Sanctuary. I figured, if I did any kind of work for a nice non-profit, I would be blessed, and lucky. Right livelyhood. I looked at the ad, with a feeling like, this would be nice. This would be so much better than doing sales for Cumulus. So, I sent my resume, with a nice note and took a chance.
The next day ... I found out... they wanted me, and the day after that it was for a job they hadn't posted yet. They needed me, and I really really needed them.
I had this feeling, that this was where I needed to go, and where I need to be.
On my second day working on the Farm, I got to meet a herd of 21 newly rescued goats. I'd never met so many goats at once, in fact how many goats have I really met anyway? As we went in, treats in hand, it was fun to feed them and meet them. They were gentle loving and friendly.
One in particular stole my heart. His name is Atlas. He's 'broken', yes, crippled for life due to improper care and neglect. He laid in pain on the ground as two women gently held him and nurtured him. The Vet came to make an effort to relieve him of his pain, and his outlook seemed not very optimistic. The collaborative goal by all was to love him and give him the most comfortable life he can have.
I took photos and shot videos. I was nervous, and shy. Then, in an effort to keep the herd away from Atlas during his doctor visit, I lured the other goats away with some goat food. Now I don't know anything about goats. They have cute floppy ears, seem pretty docile and don't mind when you pet them. As they gathered around me, scarfing up food out of my hands, the biggest greediest fellow Arthur bit and ate the mala beads right off my wrist.
I giggled and laughed, "the Goats ate my Mala Beads!"
To wit, Abbie the Animal Care Director responded, "Yeah, that's Goats for you."
Silly city girl I am, in my skirt and adornments, what was I thinking? That's right, I don't know what I'm doing, and I certainly didn't know anything about what hungry little cuties the goats are.
I guess these newly rescued four-legged friends needed a little enlightenment. My service to them, Naaaaaaaahmaste Goats! (sheepish, I know** thank you Chris Bick for this one)
I visit Atlas in his stall in the barn pretty regularly. The other day, I actually saw Atlas standing, taking steps, and moving around his stall. He smiles when I see him, and nuzzles for love. Yeah, I'm falling for the goats. Who knew that this city chick could feel such affection for a creature who seemed so alien to her 10 days ago. But here I am, falling in love with goats. I'm learning what loving creatures they are, that they have emotions and feelings and like us... even when they are suffering, they can smile when they are loved.
Emotionally, I'm far from out of the woods. I still have a lot of stuff that came up last month to tend to, and fear about being able to tackle it all. I've been humbled by the humans and the animals in my life, big and small, two and four legged. I am experiencing a new growth spurt emotionally, and am afraid and excited to get to go through it at the farm.
The equanimity I was able to live in just a month ago, seems impossible to grasp at again. How was I able to maintain that Buddha like chillness for months and months, and lose it so quickly in an avalanche of new reasons to suffer. My spiritual journey is in its infancy. I must remind myself of this over and over.
Everything is impermanent. EVERYTHING. This knowledge is freeing and crippling. But like Atlas, I too can be open to love, and allow others to help me heal. This new adventure is going to teach me something new, and is demanding that I learn to soften in work in the same way I've learned to be gentle and compassionate in my life. If I am to extend the journey, I will need to be about Metta, and be in a place of love for all living beings and walk the spiritual walk at work. I may not end up perfect, but I can end up in a much better place than where I was before when I began the journey.
When I arrived at the beginning of the weekend, and my fellow trainees asked the proverbial opener, "how are you?" I honestly answered with... "I'm feeling an equanimity I've never quite felt before. Highs and lows, but I'm just rolling with it."
On Monday, June 21st, while sitting in an Internet Cafe in Venice, after being WiFi-less for so many days, I logged in and began my usual work routine, updating, writing, crafting, sending, doing, clearing... preparing for the workload I had on my plate.
But .... things weren't as they seemed moments before. Some bad news, a surprise lost client, some more bad news.... a dark cloud was growing on my computer screen. All this stuff was coming at once. My phone was blowing up, my texts screen bleeping, my emails parading in... all with different shades of bad I had no control over.
I sat there, far from home, very far from home, scrambling while sipping a $4 Organic Hibiscus Mango Ginger Iced Tea I suddenly couldn't afford. How the fuck was I going to get home? And would my EZ Pass go through when I try to get my car out of the JFK Lot. Will I have enough for gas to get home? And when I get home, can we eat?
FRACK!
I scrambled, updating my resume and posting ads on CL for jobs cleaning houses, painting houses, babysitting and spanking men for money. Anything I could think of that I could do, phone sex, laundry, admin assistant. Panicking in this state, trying to be mindful. Over and over I kept saying, "Just for today, you're in an Internet Cafe with an overpriced Iced Tea and you're alive and breathing."
I made it home. My car did start. My car got out of the lot. I got my son. I drove upstate. I didn't pass go or collect $200.
Zman went to school the next morning and I opened up Craigslist Help Wanted Ads... and then I found an ad that surprised me. It was an ad for an Admin Asst at Catskill Animal Sanctuary. I figured, if I did any kind of work for a nice non-profit, I would be blessed, and lucky. Right livelyhood. I looked at the ad, with a feeling like, this would be nice. This would be so much better than doing sales for Cumulus. So, I sent my resume, with a nice note and took a chance.
The next day ... I found out... they wanted me, and the day after that it was for a job they hadn't posted yet. They needed me, and I really really needed them.
I had this feeling, that this was where I needed to go, and where I need to be.
On my second day working on the Farm, I got to meet a herd of 21 newly rescued goats. I'd never met so many goats at once, in fact how many goats have I really met anyway? As we went in, treats in hand, it was fun to feed them and meet them. They were gentle loving and friendly.
One in particular stole my heart. His name is Atlas. He's 'broken', yes, crippled for life due to improper care and neglect. He laid in pain on the ground as two women gently held him and nurtured him. The Vet came to make an effort to relieve him of his pain, and his outlook seemed not very optimistic. The collaborative goal by all was to love him and give him the most comfortable life he can have.
I took photos and shot videos. I was nervous, and shy. Then, in an effort to keep the herd away from Atlas during his doctor visit, I lured the other goats away with some goat food. Now I don't know anything about goats. They have cute floppy ears, seem pretty docile and don't mind when you pet them. As they gathered around me, scarfing up food out of my hands, the biggest greediest fellow Arthur bit and ate the mala beads right off my wrist.
I giggled and laughed, "the Goats ate my Mala Beads!"
To wit, Abbie the Animal Care Director responded, "Yeah, that's Goats for you."
Silly city girl I am, in my skirt and adornments, what was I thinking? That's right, I don't know what I'm doing, and I certainly didn't know anything about what hungry little cuties the goats are.
I guess these newly rescued four-legged friends needed a little enlightenment. My service to them, Naaaaaaaahmaste Goats! (sheepish, I know** thank you Chris Bick for this one)
I visit Atlas in his stall in the barn pretty regularly. The other day, I actually saw Atlas standing, taking steps, and moving around his stall. He smiles when I see him, and nuzzles for love. Yeah, I'm falling for the goats. Who knew that this city chick could feel such affection for a creature who seemed so alien to her 10 days ago. But here I am, falling in love with goats. I'm learning what loving creatures they are, that they have emotions and feelings and like us... even when they are suffering, they can smile when they are loved.
Emotionally, I'm far from out of the woods. I still have a lot of stuff that came up last month to tend to, and fear about being able to tackle it all. I've been humbled by the humans and the animals in my life, big and small, two and four legged. I am experiencing a new growth spurt emotionally, and am afraid and excited to get to go through it at the farm.
The equanimity I was able to live in just a month ago, seems impossible to grasp at again. How was I able to maintain that Buddha like chillness for months and months, and lose it so quickly in an avalanche of new reasons to suffer. My spiritual journey is in its infancy. I must remind myself of this over and over.
Everything is impermanent. EVERYTHING. This knowledge is freeing and crippling. But like Atlas, I too can be open to love, and allow others to help me heal. This new adventure is going to teach me something new, and is demanding that I learn to soften in work in the same way I've learned to be gentle and compassionate in my life. If I am to extend the journey, I will need to be about Metta, and be in a place of love for all living beings and walk the spiritual walk at work. I may not end up perfect, but I can end up in a much better place than where I was before when I began the journey.
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