Taming the Inner Petulant
Have you ever walked into one of your rooms and been absolutely shocked at its disordered state? I’m not talking about rooms that children ravage; I’m talking about a space that only you are in charge of.
That happened to me a few weeks ago. I walked into my bedroom and my side of the room (not my husband’s side) was completely chaotic. Everywhere I looked there was something out of place. Clothing drawers were partially open with bits of fabric hanging out, jewelry was strewn about, shaky stacks of books towered over a mixed hoard of rumpled and freshly cleaned clothes, dust was settling on a cup of water that must have been two weeks old. I was astonished.
How did this happen? As far as I can remember I’m not a mental patient. Why then did my room look like a lunatic was nesting there? I was afraid to check the mirror for fear I might be wearing a tin foil hat or maybe bright red lipstick on my eyelids. 
What in the world was going on in my head for this to be the outward result?
I mean, it appeared as though I had been attempting, fruitlessly, to shut drawers with sheer mind power. It looked like, just for jollies, I was removing my earrings on the far side of the room and flinging them, with eyes shut, in the general direction of the dresser. From the ridiculous stacks of unrelated reading material, it would not have been unreasonable to assume that I had a chimpanzee as my personal librarian.
Whatever was going on with me, I needed to fix the room, so I immediately set to work.
I counted eight magazines and twelve books on my nightstand. The variety was overwhelming: autobiographies, investing books, recipe collections, business advice, personal development, social networking. I couldn’t possibly be reading and absorbing all those topics at the same time. It wouldn’t fit into anyone’s head, even if they had a tin foil hat.
Trying to read all those subjects at once is like have twelve people talk at you at the same time. Sure, you catch a word here and there but nothing of substance really sinks in. Recognizing that basically I had been acting like an undisciplined child, I decided that going forward I would allow myself only one book and that I would police this rule like a parent.
Right away I found myself in a battle with my Inner Petulant who is used to getting her own way and sulked as soon as she realized she was being forced to behave more reasonably.
I had to hold a firm line to keep her on track.
“No, you can’t have another book until you finish the one you’re reading now.”
“Yes, I know you’re forty-four and should be able to read what you want, but you’re still reading the other book. When you’re done, you can have a new one.”
“I don’t care if you’re bored with that story, just finish it like you planned and then you can read something new.”
At first I found the rule oppressive, but in a short time I noticed that my mind felt clearer as I was no longer bombarded with unlimited choice.
Then I started requiring other things of myself.
“Before you leave your desk for the night, make sure it’s tidy so that you don’t start tomorrow dealing with yesterday’s mess.”
“Yes I know you’re tired, but fold that laundry in the dryer before you go to bed and then it won’t wrinkle.”
“Make sure the dishwasher is ready for dirty dishes in the morning; no one wants to empty that when they’re rushing to get out the door.”
So now, I’ve been rising each morning to a tidy office, an emptied dishwasher, a clean laundry room and my mind is focussed on the one book I am reading. It feels better.
Discipline and limits are funny things. When they are well placed, they usually allow us more freedom and opportunity than they deny.
When our chores are done with regularity, we can have unexpected visitors, we can get creative in clean rooms with useable workspaces and we have the ability to be spontaneous. When we embrace limits and stop doing twenty things at once, we can really be in the moment.
Discipline is the precursor to guilt free enjoyment; limits, once accepted, can stem anxiety and create mental comfort, because we’re not always thinking, “Maybe I should do this, maybe I should do that.”
I think my Inner Petulant is starting to see the merits of both. She’s enjoying the one book she’s reading and she’s relaxing nicely into the free time her discipline has created. If this keeps up, and she becomes even more agreeable, I might also ask her to remove the lipstick from her eyelids.
Yours in serenity,
Crystal
Lofty Words
Some people are dreamers, living lives that blur reality with imagination, and memory with construct. I am such a person and it has its benefits as well as its drawbacks. I can visualize things easily; I have no problem hoping, supposing and living my life theoretically. But, I can also turn my head from pressing, tangible problems expecting, without precedent or proof, that life with be better tomorrow.
Are you a dreamer? You’ll know you are if, like me, your night-time dreams are so vivid and interesting that you are tempted to purchase a ticket and bring popcorn to your night stand before you go to sleep. In addition to awesome nocturnal experiences, a dreamer usually has an easy time visualizing and imagining what might be, sometimes glazing over reality in the process. For this reason, she might have a messy desk, or house, because she can picture what it would look like clean and therefore doesn’t need it to be that way to have the experience.
As a dreamer, I often ‘see’ things when I meditate and last fall, while sitting in quiet contemplation, I had an intriguing visual pop into my head of a wise being placing its hand over mine helping me write. In the image, the ‘helping hand’ was a pure white energy holding a white feather quill. It put its hand over mine and I interpreted that as ‘I’ll be with you when you write’ or ‘I’ll help guide your words.’
That was a cool thing to picture, and since I entered the meditation asking for assistance with writing, I was very pleased and reassured by that image.
I told my family about it and at Christmas my sons gave me a present of a white feathered pen. It was very much like the one in my meditation. I put the pen on my desk and I only write with it when I am journaling and trying to connect to my deep inner thoughts, or when I am writing something that relates to providing service or guidance to others. I feel like it is a special instrument and I reserve it for sacred things.
My Feather Pen and Journal
I’m having so much fun with it!
A feather pen is a very cool thing to write with!
The air catches the plume when it moves toward the page and it feels lifted even as I lower it to the paper, like someone else is bringing it to the page at their timing, not mine. When I write with it, because the feather resists the air at surprising moments, it adds to the illusion that more than one person is guiding the pen.
I’m finding it an awesome tool and I thought I would tell you about it because fellow dreamers might like how, due to its aerodynamics and its old world look, it feels like it brings a bit of the magic and flourish to the ordinary act of writing, but non dreamers might find it useful too.
Those who have a hard time believing that when they journal for self-discovery they are tapping into something special and sacred, might find that a feather pen gives enough of a physical effect to nudge them into a more receptive, lofty and open state.
If the fresh year is already starting to feel mundane to you, with its realities and everyday pressures, why not get a feather pen and bring some old world charm and inspiration to your desk and writing. At the very least it will be some whimsical fun, and as long as you refrain from wearing white face paint and a large Elizabethan collar (or Harry Potter glasses and a wizard’s hat) while you use it, no one should think you odd.
Yours in whimsy,
Crystal
Teflon Gorgeous
Happy New Year! If you’ve yet to be kissed into 2012, let me offer you a warm, smooching welcome to a year that could, if you like, be Teflon Gorgeous.
What is Teflon Gorgeous, you might ask. It’s a term I came up with for a feeling I’ve been having, a feeling that has been such a blessing in my life that I thought I would share it with those of you who are poised and ready to make some changes now, during the infant months of the year.
Teflon Gorgeous describes how I’ve been feeling ever since I did some emotional surrender work this fall, and aligned with the concept that EVERYTHING, every single event that occurs in life, pleasant or unpleasant, convenient or inconvenient, happy or tragic, is correct.
Byron Katie calls this notion ‘loving what is’. Joseph Campbell called it, ‘joyfully participating in the sorrows of the world’. Abraham-Hicks would say, ‘it’s post-manifestational awareness of the law of attraction’. Christians say ‘God works in mysterious ways,’ and I’m sure many other sages and spiritual teachings have expressions for it as well, but it boils down to the idea that there is some order behind our experience and that trusting what that order brings, or at least not fighting it, is advised.
It is a concept that I have intellectually understood for years. It’s easy enough, right? It simply says, ‘accept life exactly as it is, that your experiences are somehow serving you even when you can’t see it.’
But as with everything, understanding and execution are two very different things. I might understand how to shoot a basketball through a hoop, but it doesn’t mean I can do it. I might know what it takes to learn a new language but that’s no guarantee I’ll choose those actions. So although for decades I understood this idea of ‘everything is as it should be’, it took me 44 years of living to implement it on a daily basis.
What was standing in my way, I think, were a lot of old emotions. I believe this to be true, because when I finally let them go in a huge outpouring this fall, I was able, for the first time, to fully relax into this idea beautifully expressed by Max Ehrmann in Desiderata, that “no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should,” even the minute details of my own life.
So now when one of my sons misses the school bus on a morning when I don’t feel I can afford the time to drive him in, I no longer get annoyed; I simply get curious. “I wonder what this is about,” I ask myself as I go with the unexpected disruption. Curiosity has been an amazing substitution for agitation and annoyance. Many times, while in this open state of wonder, I noticed that the very circumstances that at first seemed out of sync with my plans actually solved a problem for me, or brought me into contact with someone I needed to see.
Like being coated with Teflon, this curious and open response helps problems to ‘not stick’ to me and the result is that life feels Gorgeous, guided and perfect, even when, at first, it looks uncooperative.
I have some thoughts about why an emotional release was necessary for me to adopt this new outlook, but I think I’ll leave that for another time. For now it is enough for me to know that faithful curiosity is a beautiful response that makes life happier, easier and more peaceful, and that practising it is just a matter of dropping judgement and trusting life.
So here in the early days of the year, let me just say that if I could wish you one thing for 2012, I would wish you the ability to embrace all reality with wonder. I would wish your life to be Teflon Gorgeous.
Happy 2012!
Love,
Crystal
Apologies to His Holiness and Oprah
It was grossly insensitive and disrespectful of me, but many times I have discounted the wisdom of the Dalai Lama because he wears glasses. I just figured, if he’s a spiritually enlightened being, why would he have any health problems at all? In a similar way, I’ve also wondered why Oprah Winfrey can’t get a handle on her weight. For a successful woman who seems to have a lot of answers, isn’t it puzzling that she can’t wrestle that one to the ground?
The hypocrisy, of course, is that I require glasses myself, and like Oprah, have had on-going battles with my body image. So I think it’s pretty clear who I am truly commenting on when I make those statements. (As we all know, the best way to grasp how harshly we judge ourselves is to pay attention to how we judge others.) 
I mention these criticisms not because they are warranted, but because it occurred to me the other morning that maybe these ‘flaws’ that I am noticing in others, aren’t actually flaws at all. Perhaps, they are crucial ingredients to someone’s life path or spin-offs from an unusually bold choice or a wonderful character trait.
What if, for example, the Dalai Lama’s need for glasses is not a statement about his physical well-being as much as it is a function of his great compassion? Maybe he can’t bear to ‘see’ the suffering of his people and because he is that sensitive and loving, he makes a great spiritual leader.
Maybe the whole weight thing is the lynch pin in Oprah’s success. Consider for a moment that extra weight represents a protection of sorts. Then think about how vulnerable and authentic Oprah manages to be on a world stage, a place from which one can be attacked regularly, sometimes viciously, by the press. Perhaps that protection is the very thing that allows her to stand before the world and courageously reveal her inner-self.
We could also look at it from another angle. I have long felt that public popularity is generally a function of being able to hook into the zeitgeist, the trends and themes of the time. Oprah’s show rose to popularity just as the obesity epidemic was starting to take hold in North America. Her personal struggle with weight mirrored exactly what the population was facing en mass and it created a strong bond with her audience. Without the weight problem, Oprah would probably still be shining her light in the world, but perhaps with it she is able to reach far more people.
My point here is really not about Oprah or the Dalai Lama. It’s about accepting all of ourselves, even our supposed shortcomings, and respecting that each part of us, difficult or not, contributes to the whole. To isolate and eliminate those aspects of our personality and life that we least enjoy is to discount the larger role that they play in our successes.
This is not to say that we shouldn’t strive to improve, but it is to acknowledge that our desire for improvement might not even be present without the issues that vex us most. Problems can be poetic in their relation to our larger life, and the human struggle is often the most beautiful and meaningful part of living. I’m going to remember that the next time I feel like judging myself or another.
And speaking about judgements and acceptance, I hope that his Holiness the Dalai Lama can forgive me for my rash and egotistical judgements about his eye sight, and Oprah Winfrey for my thoughts about her weight. I’m confident they can, because I’m sure they are both wise enough to know that those remarks were never really about them anyway.
Crystal
Copyright 2011, Crystal Eves Inc.
A-Mazing to Behold
In Ontario we’ve been getting fantastic fall weather with lots of sunny days reaching unseasonal daytime highs. It’s perfect for outdoor activities and so last week I took a trip to a nearby labyrinth. Situated close to Lake Simcoe, this labyrinth is on the grounds of a spiritual retreat and is modelled after the one at Chartres cathedral in France.
If you are unfamiliar with labyrinths, you might immediately think of being lost in a hedge maze or being chased by a Minotaur, but Walking Labyrinths, like the one I visited, are more like moving meditations. The labyrinth is comprised of a pathway that seems circular but that leads you back and forth in an indirect manner to its centre. The pathway never branches off so there is no getting lost, and happily there is no mythical man/bull to gore you, which is always a plus in any spiritual practice.
The point of walking the labyrinth is to still and concentrate the mind, to put one in touch with their inner wisdom and the greater wisdom that informs all life. Usually one enters a labyrinth with a question or problem to consider, and the act of following the path is both physically and metaphorically centering. Once arriving at the centre, walkers are encouraged to sit and contemplate until they feel satisfied or otherwise at peace with the question or concern they brought with them. Walkers then exit the labyrinth by moving back along the same path by which they entered.
If you’ve never tried a labyrinth walk I would highly recommend it.
Last week when I entered the labyrinth, I had asked only that I be shown something that I needed to know. As I walked the winding path closer and closer to the centre, I became aware of the birds calling all around me, first a crow and then a woodpecker, and then other birds that I couldn’t identify. It continued for the duration of my walk and by the end I was intensely aware of every sound the birds were making. When I exited, I felt that I had gained a deeper appreciation for the nature that constantly surrounds me. It felt like a gift of connection and I was very grateful.
Then, as I walked away something fantastic happened. A wind blew through the wooded area that contains the labyrinth and it rustled through a number of maple trees that were directly in front of me. I looked up to notice that, on each of the trees I could see, there was one large leaf that was just about to drop. Because those leaves were hanging precariously, and because of the gentle breeze that had just swept through, those leaves, and only those leaves, one on each tree, were swinging furiously back and forth.
It looked like each tree had one hand that was merrily waving hello to me. It was the most enchanted thing I have ever seen! An incredulous grin spread across my face and spontaneously I uttered aloud, “Well, hello! I see you too!” Deliciously, it was at that exact moment that the breeze died down and the ‘waving’ stopped. It was a most magical coincidence.
Whether the trees were communicating with me that day I cannot say, although it makes my world happy to believe so. What I do know for certain, and can attest to from that experience, is this: absolutely wonderful things are possible when we still our minds and pay attention to what surrounds us.
Saving Fish by Comforting People
I was shocked to learn recently that fish populations are being poisoned in the St. Lawrence River by the sadness of the humans
who live near its banks. Sadness, one might think, is a personal experience unable to reach out and injure others, least of all unsuspecting fish, but according to History Television’s program Trashopolis, human sadness, and more to the point our modern means of coping with it, has far reaching effects.
If you’re not familiar with Trashopolis, it is a show that examines how major cities have historically coped with garbage and how they are managing in current times. Despite its unsavoury subject matter, the program is quite fascinating. It looks at landfill operations, recycling practices, sewage treatment facilities and other human efforts to deal with the garbage we create.
According to the last episode I watched, Montreal has the 3rd largest sewage treatment plant in the world with modern technology designed to keep human waste and other pollutants out of the neighbouring St. Lawrence River. Unfortunately, when the facilities were built no one anticipated that in the near future there would be wide-spread human use of anti-depressants and so the system was not designed to filter these contaminants out of the water before releasing it into the environment. As a result, today’s fish populations are ingesting water that contains residuals from human anti-depressant use, and their little fish brains and livers are filled with harmful chemicals.
What it amounts to is that humans are passing their emotional pain into the natural world. We are pushing our suffering into the water where it is doing tremendous harm.
What a tragic but powerful example of how connected the world is.
Through the plight of the fish, it becomes clear that EVERYTHING we do, every choice we make, including how we choose to deal with our emotions, has an impact on everything else. Awareness of that connectedness brings with it a deep responsibility of stewardship and at the same time presents a wonderful opportunity to make a positive difference.
If even our feelings affect the environment, then imagine the good that we are doing every time we uplift another, or make a healthy choice, or spread joy. If you help one person feel less isolated and more loved, you’re not just assisting them, you’re saving fish and allowing the natural world to regain balance! Your good deeds and healthy choices not only benefit you, but they ripple outward in very tangible ways into the world at large.
A simple choice, for example, of an organic apple over eating a candy bar radiates well beyond you. The organic selection helps keep pesticides out of the environment; not picking the candy bar prevents its packaging from going into a landfill. Nourishing your body with healthy foods keeps your mood stable and your body better prepared to fight disease; the stable mood benefits your relationships; stronger immune systems keep the cost of healthcare down in our society which frees up money for other worthwhile programs. The positive effect goes outward and beyond, outward and beyond.
Our choices and practices are powerful. This is what the fish of the St. Lawrence are showing us. They are telling us that our emotional wellbeing is important, not only to ourselves, but to the planet and everything on it. And by larger implication they are showing us that in every moment, with every decision we make, we are determining how wonderful this world will be.
Outward and beyond just may be my new mantra!
Crystal
Copyright 2011, Crystal Eves Inc.
Who Broke the Children?
My favourite band, 54-40, has a song that describes the result of child abuse on a young girl and summarizes its effect with the phrase, “That girl is broken.” That lyric has always stuck with me because it evokes the idea of irreparable damage, of precious innocence and potential lost forever. It’s a haunting notion and, although I am not the least bit abusive, it is probably my worst fear as a mother-that I will be responsible for some irreversible damage to the children.
As most conscientious parents do, I worry about my kids. Am I dealing with them properly? Am I deflating their spirit? Am I disabling them with my help? Am I too lenient, or too strict? Have I destroyed their self-esteem? Did I inadvertently crush their dreams, or erase their high score? Have I instilled my fears and anxieties into them? Did I, in essence, out of love and without intending to, break them?
I’ve been asking this question a lot because I now have a house filled with teenagers. Do you remember when I started out writing this column and my oldest child was only eight? Well now I have a child who drives and another who, lately, has been driving me to distraction with upset and worry. Other parents warned me about the teen years and I understood that they could get rough, but lately all the teen antics have been pushing me right up to the edge.
The edge of what, is the question.
To what edge does all this teen drama push me? If I didn’t think about it with any sincerity I would say it pushes me to the edge of my tolerance, and to the end of my patience. If I were being dramatic I would say it is pushing me to the edge of my sanity. But if I am truthful, I would have to admit that the teenage drama in my house is pushing me to the edge of my own limitations as a parent. That’s the honest answer– this troublesome behaviour is pushing ME to grow. It is pushing me to develop new approaches, better compassion, less judgement and a more open minded outlook.
All the clashing and rule breaking is forcing me to look beyond behaviour and into root causes. It is taking me out of my comfort zone as a parent because the methods I employed when the boys were young (give them a hug, send them to bed) are no longer effective or appropriate. I’m learning that what teenagers show us is where dysfunction has festered. They put it in our faces in a loud and hormonal way and to turn our heads from it, or to discipline it into compliance so that it appears okay on the surface, is to miss the opportunity of this time, which is the chance for both parent and child to acknowledge and repair past hurts and to redefine their relationship to one another.
So, in light of all the upset in the house, it is becoming apparent that my worst nightmare might be true. I may have broken the kids, even if it was only slightly. But the good news for all us parents of teenagers is that we still have some time left. And the more I go through this phase with them the more I believe that the effectiveness of this remaining time depends very strongly, not on the behaviour of the children, but on my willingness to honestly look at what is truly working and where I, as a parent, need to change my approach. It’s a hard, unyielding lesson with steep consequences but as with anything, as soon as we see our part in the problem, things shift for the better.
The irony of it all is that although my boys are evolving, it turns out that it’s actually my growth spurt! And to my great relief I’ve come to the realization that there is a very fine line between what is truly broken and what simply needs some TLC.
Crystal
Copyright 2011, Crystal Eves Inc.
