Love and ego

This morning, as I was talking to a friend, I realised that "something" has left me. There is a distinct lack of pain, as if things have gone quiet inside. It is unusual, and somehow disconcerting. I am not qualifying this shift as good or bad, just different.

Then in the afternoon I felt as if a humming, or vibration had been suddenly turned off, landing me on a school playground with voices of mothers chatting around me. Part of me is feeling anxious about this change, perhaps feeling anxious about the lack of anxiety. The other part is running with it, reassuring me that it is fine; that the cloud that has clung heavily over my head all these months, maybe years, is lifting. "I hope to be here tomorrow" says my anxious self .

Yesterday my internet was very slow, therefore no blog was written. What has been floating in my head is my relationship with relationships, how I approach them and what they mean to me.

To sum what relationships with other people mean to me, I must say that from an early age nothing has been as important, or has occupied so much of my thinking time than my relationships with other people. Everything else pales in comparison, mostly because everything else is much less complicated or interesting.

I am a keen people observer. I can see the fluttering of thoughts and perceive subtle changes in body language, and as we know, most communication is unspoken. For a while, people's reactions toward me became my most important preoccupation and source of worry.

As a child, to be loved and approved of was my main motivation for doing well at school or behaving appropriately. As a teenager, it was just great to be allowed to indulge in romantic stories that played in my head over and over. In them, there were all kinds of passionate twists and turns, with the underlying assumption of being so irresistibly special that one day I would meet an equally irresistible man and we'd love each other forever.

Even though, I didn't have a strong desire for a "princess wedding", I learned to have a high expectation of my relationships with men. A good dose of self-respect and dignity are appropriate. But I recognise now to have allowed my ego to dominate, which made me feel as if I hadn't have enough, needed more, wanted more.

"In a genuine relationship, there is an outward flow of open, alert attention toward the other person in which there is no wanting whatsoever. The alert attention is Presence." Eckhart Tolle. A New Earth.

In the quote by Eckhart tolle, I can see the focus should be on giving rather than receiving. The ego wants more and will never be satisfied, so it does make sense to be all giving and unattached. This is not very difficult with one's own children and even dear friends. However, love relationships without the interference of ego are an interesting proposition.

If a relationship is based on the idea of being ever changing and finite, then is it worth having at all? If I don't know whether it is going to end tomorrow, and I shouldn't be attached to whether it does or not, then what keeps me there? why is it a human inclination to pair up, if there is no benefit in attachment? is it mere reproduction? or just temporary fun? why are then chemical mechanisms in our bodies that encourage bonding?

Is there a contradiction between the concept of non-attachment and the fact that there is certain calmness in the thought of permanence, in the thought of having a person to come to? And yet, we know that all things are impermanent. I understand that certainty is a fabrication of our minds, but maybe there are good fabrications.

I have to say that I am not particularly hopeful about love relationships at the moment. Despite my support people being so optimistic about my future, it makes me a bit sad to admit that I am hardly hoping for another hard haul in the loving depatment. There is also a small part of me that feels undeserving. 

One could say that my self-esteem is low. But, am I not heading into a spiritual path based in part on losing my sense of entitlement? Maybe there is a kind of self-esteem that makes us easy pray of suffering, and another kind that says "I am ok no matters what happens"; the one that allows us to dream of a nicer future. I actually see no evidence of that being the case. However, there might be hope as I haven't even read half of the book.

I always wanted a deep and meaningful relationship with people with whom I am close. In the last ten years that changed very little, even though everything else has changed a lot. With a partner this is still my ideal, which has proven elusive and seems unattainable. There is however, evidence of other people thinking that is possible.

About a year ago, in a winter's day not unlike this gloomy, still day, as I waited in a daze to find out what those little lumps on my breast were, I wandered into a bookshop and found a couple of books that have become favourites.

In one of them "And Never Stop Dancing, thirty more things you need to know now" by Gordon Livingstone, I found a bit of relief in the idea that if we choose a partner with "ample reserves of kindness, capacity to forgive and willingness to put us at the centre of his or her life", then we could put down our weapons and enjoy renewable love. Of course, to be deserving of such partner we should cultivate those qualities in ourselves.

Maybe I should put down my weapons and make peace with now and non-attachment, instead. Really, what are the chances?

You can se by the length of this post that this one is going to be hard to crack...

Evelia

Silence

It's a beautiful winter's morning. The sky is blue and it is warm, this is like summer in other latitudes, and altitudes of course. It's just faithful Toby and me, I gave him two small bones and he promptly went inside the house to save one for later. I will check under my blanket, just in case.

It is very quiet around here without the children. This is the second weekend that they are away. As a result of the separation, we have entered an alternating weekend schedule to satisfy the "shared parenting" requirement. I must say that growing up I never thought "I want to be an astronaut...and I want to be a part-time mum". I find it strange and painful. Yes, I know I will be fine, I feel positive that we'll all get used to it and I will enjoy the luxury of having kids-free time, but I am not there yet.

This morning I went to my friend's TaiChi class. The setting is beautiful, the group feels warm and welcoming, kindness is in the air. I was present following the movements quietly, trying to not react to the changes in my body as it was waking up for second breakfast, and my back and chest were aching for no particular reason, other than to hold on to what needs to go. TaiChi is like a balanced, harmonious dance to one's own music. Before the class a word is revealed to each person, mine today was "sensitivity", which is just fitting with my mood of tear and laughter in the same sentence; of feeling young and old at the same time.

I am learning to be alone. Growing up in a house full of people was fun and crazy, with always something happening. However, sometimes I felt quite separate from the others, watching all the action from afar without being part of it. Over the years I have attributed this feeling to many things, including the separation from my mother as a baby, and my very own wiring. After knowing children from birth, I would have to say that the latter is the most likely cause.

All my life being alone has been difficult, this time I am faced with the consequences of being true to myself, of wanting a calmer life, a purer life. In a way it signifies appreciating who I am, eliminating the noise that normally would have arised to appease the feeling of emptiness from being alone. This time, I am not alone even if there is no one near me, even if there is silence inside and out.

Tomorrow I will talk, probably a lot when I see people who embrace my being, quite to my surprise. I can only continue on my path, for better (I believe) or for worse, there is no turning back.

The Universe and You

I like thinking that the universe gives us exactly what we need, when we need it, or when we are most likely to experience growth from a particular event. But maybe it is the other way around, events just happen and we are or not affected by them, depending on our availability and receptivity.

Early this year, I asked the universe for a single event that would fulfill a special need of mine. I asked without qualifying it, without involving anyone in particular or timing it. Then, one cold windy night, under a distinctive landmark, I recognised it as it was happening.

This is not the first time I have asked the universe to grant me a wish. It doesn't happen often, but when it happens, it is powerful. An almost involuntary wordless voice comes from within, expressing exactly and precisely a desire of my soul. The feeling is carried upwards and into the sky, as if it could attach itself to the wing of a passing angel. Then I walk away, time will tell.

In each wish there is an expression of openess, of surender to the reality that is me, stripped down to the inmaterial. I am vulnerable and humble when I ask from the universe. No one can see me, and I play no roles, therefore there is no ego to prop up, or the mighty responsibilities, so heavy that my upper back clenches, bracing itself to take their weight.

But you see, even though I have experienced freedom from ego. Ego insists on playing havoc in my head. Sometimes it is hard, for example, to see any qualities that I have, or I that imagine I have, because of preconceived ideas on how I should run my life to be worthy, to be happy, and ultimately to be loveable.

Even though I accept that my standards are strict at best, and do not wish them to others. It seems to be OK for my ego to punish me for not reaching them. Are we all like this? and if we are, wouldn't it be better not to? I want to stop, I want to be real, imperfect and OK with it.

Most recently I made another wish: to find resolution. Sounds vague, I know, and maybe the answer is just as broad. But it manifests my willingness to find a new path for my life.

In the past, I would have chosen to move countries, to start a new career, to change the colour of my hair. To reinvent my external world, hoping that in the process I would find what it is missing, or at least get so busy that I'd forget the reason I started it in the first place. Granted, I almost did all these things this time around too. But something, maybe being older and wiser, maybe that windy night, made me listen to the voice that was telling me to stop running away. That the change needs to come from within, getting a new backdrop would not cut it this time.

There are no certainties, even if promises are made, documents exchanged, hard cash paid, or tears shed. Knowing that, can we learn to live without the feeling of free falling, losing our attachment to what should be there, and maybe it is today, but we don't know if it will be tomorrow?

I suggest substituting fear with joy; need for certainty with gratefulness for what it is, when it is. The story will write itself, as it does, without any help.

A presto, which is Italian for until next time
Eve

Episode 2 - The Ego and me

"Whatever the ego seeks and gets attached to are substitutes for the Being that it cannot feel. You can value and care for things, but whenever you get attached yourself to them, you will know it's the ego. And you are never really attached to a thing but to a thought that has ' I ', 'me; or 'mine' in it." - Eckhart Tolle

It has taken me a few days to digest this concept, and I suspect that it takes a life time to work with this particular notion, in the world where we exist. 

As I close my eyes thinking of what I am going to type next, the thought of letting go of material things seems doable; I don't feel attached strongly to any object. Objects come and go, and let's face it, most of them break or go out of fashion, even the expensive, or those that where once "state of the art". 

Am I attached to "my ideas"?, well, I consider myself fairly open minded, willing to listen and genuinely consider all points of view. I have no interest in convincing people to think the way I do, although it is kind of cool when they do. All of the sudden, I am feeling rather unattached, light headed even. I suspect that there is more to ego and me, where has it gone and attached itself?

Going a bit further, I'd have to say that the idea of not having a place to live that is safe and relatively warm, as well a source of income, would make me seriously doubt the feelings of detachment that I just had a minute ago. People losing everything isn't a rare occurrence, we know that there are some going through it right now. Detachment seems then, relative to how much we already have.

What about inmaterial things, like health, looks, abilities, roles in life, careers, or even way we want to be perceived? the common themes are that: a.) they can be things we identify with, and that potentially fill us with a sense of pride and increase our self-value, our ego; and b.)  they all change.

We assume them as part of us and if successful we want to permanently attach ourselves to them. In this world, all these things help us fit in, to initiate a conversation, to gain status within a certain group. I recently heard two gentlemen conversing, it sounded as if they had just met. The older one was saying how he married into a family that owns a very famous football club in Europe, it made me smile. I imagined him telling the same introductory line 50 years ago.

If there is anything that makes us feel less for not having it, there's ego attaching itself. Ego makes us feel entitled to something, material or not, and when we cannot reach it or lose it, we suffer. In our suffering we waste time which we could be using to move into a different direction, or just be where we are. Ego is part of us but not all of what we are. 

Even with all our credentials out on the table, who hasn't felt that there is more to us? If only we could put our finger on it. That's what I'm trying to get to.

à bientôt

Ève

Episode 1

"So when you are alert and contemplate a flower, crystal or bird without naming it mentally, it becomes a window for you into the formless. There is an inner opening, however slight, into the realm of spirit." Eckhart Tolle - A New Earth.

As a child, I was fascinated by the flower of the lantana plant. A single flower is composed of about 20 mini flowers. They are colour graded on their perfectly spaced position onto a semi-spherical base of long radius. Also, a hibiscus flower has its reproduction organs exposed, you can transfer the pollen from the yellow-tipped buds to the center, which is bright red, or you could just watch an insect carry it on its back. Even if not officially mentioned on science books, flower contemplation by children is one of the most effective pollination mechanisms that exists.

It is common to hear how children live in the present, if only we could be more like them. How long has it been since I studied a lantana flower?. I have to tell you that the last lantana plant was eradicated from our garden about 2 years ago, because lantana is nothing but a weed, an introduced species that will take over your garden if you let it.

I have a good friend who tells me that "weeds are plants we are prejudiced against". If you think about it, a weed is a tenacious, opportunistic, life embracing being. But in the garden, we want them out, favouring the fragile, the beautiful, the rare, maybe with the purpose of controlling a small parcel of our lives that is likely to give us a predictable result if we work hard enough at it.

I wish a could keep a garden. As I drive around my "garden proud" suburb, I admire the effort people put in, and the beautifully neat, tidy results they obtain. My garden is wild, once in a while I rake the leaves to make room for the children to play on the grass. Initially, I had planted flowers near the front gate but in time they died, as the soil is not so much soil, but sandstone, where only weeds seem to thrive.

The last time I contemplated a flower, it didn't take long before I realised that I had to do something else, be somewhere else. As adults, do we have the time to contemplate anything? With all the responsibilities we have, the people in our care, our work and our finance worries, I'm not sure we have the time, or simply what is required to gain insight into the formless: the feeling of untainted awe for simple things.

We are most likely to be blown away by complex, man made contraptions that would in most cases only reinforce our sense of self. I, in particular, feel the need to know how exactly I should be doing things. I like to know I do a good job. If I decide to give sometime to contemplation, is a little bit of contemplation enough? does it have to be quiet contemplation? or can I contemplate while I walk, while I talk, while I eat? could some one please give me instructions, so I know I have done it right and I can relax and enjoy the fruit of a job well done?

I had unexpected the fortune to study the perfection of nature in a Biomaterials course at university. Basically, we try to imitate the intrinsic characteristics of natural materials with our sooper dooper scientific advancements, and still fall short by miles. That's before we stop to mention the environmental damage we do to achieve results worth mentioning.

I get it. There is perfection in nature, whether there are weeds or not, it is sublime. It challenge us, it nurtures us, and it overwhelms us, as it is unstoppable. We can fight it, but by doing so, we only fight ourselves, as we are nature, with our own personal weeds against which we feel prejudiced.

"Show me a day when the world wasn't new"

Sister Barbara Hance (1928-1993)

http://www.flickr.com/photos/69384201@N00/4661878942/

The Key

nataliedee.com

I was going through an anxious few weeks recently when I found Anxiety Girl, I laughed out loud, so funny, so keenly true, so me.

I must admit that something so simple gave me two things to think about:

- I was translating any discomfort into impending doom.

- Obviously, I was not the only one.

Thanks to my still infant Mindfulness skills, I know that anxiety is an intense reaction to my own thoughts. This is helpful for me every single day. However, there is a point where not reacting to an avalanche of thoughts is easier said than done, especially when I am tired and facing life changing decisions.

Drawing from my professional experience, I can tell you that it is better, from a design point of view, to build a system with features to prevent a fault, rather than to contain a fault once it has already ocurred. Hence, it makes sense to find a way to prevent thoughts from snowballing into avalanches.

The way we react is part habit, part the way we are wired and part what you can get away with in your culture. Disclaimer: I might not be professionally qualified to make such statement, but have had enough therapy in my life to know that I am entitled to my opinion.

But what are all those thoughts I keep talking about? positive thoughts? negative thoughts? future thoughts? well, all of them. This continuous thinking is preventing me from the very thing I am trying to achieve: being in the present.

There are times when it is easy to be present: when you savour that delicious tapioca and mango mousse; or when you explain to your child the dangers of playing with scissors, while trying to keep a straight face at the marvelous haircut he's just given himself; or when you're lulled into a sleep by the breathing of your lover next to you.

There are times when you wish you were somewhere else, or that you could hang your life on the nearest coat rack, hoping that someone else would want to wear it for a while.

Eckhart Tolle in A New Earth tell us to not fight the now, to embrace it and make friends with it, no matter what it is, there is no good or bad, all it happens is part of the same fabric. Pain, frustration and anxiety are caused by our own resistance to the now.

Slowness, waiting, physical inactivity are sources of stress for me. In fact, I once refused to read a book club choice because of its title "Slowness". Interestingly, "The Unbearable Lightness of Being" seemed a lot more appealing and it was also written by the same author, and one of my favourites, Milan Kundera.

A humbling moment for me came when I figured out that I can only move as fast as my body. Therefore 1000 KPH thoughts are not going to get me out of the rough patches any quicker. I need to learn to bring my whole presence here, where my body is.

This is the key. Not to approach being in the moment from the thought realm, but to be present from no thought

à la prochaine, mes amis,

Evelia