We all have...stuff

Yes we do. And it's funny how we feel more self-conscious and try to cover up our stuff because everyone else is so busy covering up that we're made to feel like we're the only ones carrying around a 100 pound bag of guilt or sadness or fear or any kind of concoction of suffering. The truth is that we all have stuff, suffering, baggage. I've spent a good few years ignoring mine, thinking it's not valid because it's not severe. But sometimes it’s the subtle persistence of suffering that can be more destructive.

I've started my New Years resolution early this time: I will not lie to myself anymore about what I carry. I will not be responsible for everyone. I will not gauge my happiness on anything outside of myself. I will stop holding on to my emotion. I will not make excuses for other people hurting me. I will be free. I will be free. I will be free.

And it's not like this all came out of nowhere. I had some hands on me yesterday, getting bodywork--my first time, with a good friend and teacher. She knows me, but she knows me ever better no that she could actually feel where I hold on to my stuff, my guilt, in particular. It's right in the middle of my back where she kept running her fingers deep and I kept flinching away--not because of pain, but just because there was something there I had never quite put my finger on (pun intended).

Sometimes we shove ourselves off to the side. We shouldn't. Take time to take care of yourself and know that what you feel is real.

This is a poem about the stuff I hold on to:

Guilt equals
sadness plus Responsibility.
I am always
the Responsible one,
the care taker,
the constant.
I am happy when
everyone else is happy.
I want to have a long talk with you
about how I feel.
I conceal this hurt
and my big soul takes over.
But my body can't lie anymore.
I am sad for your loneliness.
I cannot be responsible one more day.
I am happy when I am happy.

Thank goodness...

Thank goodness for today. For the outcome. For it all being over. The past few days, it has been impossible to escape from the bombardment of media over the election. Watching Obama give his acceptance speech filled me up with -- for the first time in a long time -- a feeling of pride for our country. I'm not very politically inclined, but I would be ignoring a big part of our world if I left these comments out.

And thank goodness for the time change. Last week it was so hard to pull myself out of bed. I completely skipped my meditation practice in the morning because I never had enough time before heading off to work. My excuse every morning was that I would just take the whole week off, and tie it in a neat little bow and forgive myself. But getting back into my meditation practice now that the time change has come and the dust is settling, is more challenging than I thought it would be to get back into that pattern of sitting. The analogy of the mind as a puppy dog still fits: You want it to sit and stay, but it continually gets distracted and runs away to play. So you get up, sit it back down, tell it to stay. Over and over again. Until it finally stays. But just like a puppy dog, if you let up for a few days or a week, sometimes it forgets how to sit still.

Another big change this week: I put in my notice at my daytime job. Perhaps it wasn't the smartest thing to do with the financial melt-down that we are in. But for me, the money and security is not worth my time spent in an office with no windows and no contact except with my computer. I told my boss I'd give him six months to find and train someone new. Now I only wish I last that long. Part of me will miss the consistency of the job, but I know I need to shake things up. Getting too comfortable anywhere is not conducive to growth.