Social Responsibility

I’m going to come up with a name for my new experiment of meditating 2 hours per day.

Journey Inward? Meeting myself? Hmmm…

In any case, today’s meditation was so incredibly enlightening.

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Your Only Job is to Show Up

We really complicate life.  Like, Sweet Jesus, do we ever.

We complicate it with expectations- of ourselves, of others, of how we think something should unfold or the way it should go.  And when the expectations aren't met, we're convinced that life is shit and we'e bad and unworthy of unhappiness.

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Safe in the Pain

My on-going journey of meditating for two hours a day continues to astound me.  We're talking daily insights, a feeling of clarity and expansiveness, and being embodied in a way I don't ever recall being before.

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Fixing It

One of the most obvious ways my woundings show up for me is in my relationship with my children.  Which isn't to say that we have a terrible connection.  It's to say that I feel a gap between what I know to be true, and how I behave with them.

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Expectations and Broken Hearts

I was gifted a powerful discovery in meditation that involves expectation and its purpose.

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Godmothers and Tapestries

Once upon a time, there was a girl who didn't know how to tap dance.  But she strapped some shoes on her feet, jumped on the coffee table in front of the living room window, and did in anyways.  In her mind, she was fabulous.  And that was all that mattered.

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Consider It a Thought

Just one piece of the process of sitting for two hours a day, come what may.

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Hole-y Hunger

Author Anne Lamott writes about what she calls our "God Sized Hole."  The idea being that we, as humans on this planet, have a hunger that we spend our entire lives try to satiate.

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Don't Come Over

I’ve decided that the process of accepting visitors for me should be, “You show me yours, I’ll show you mine.” As in, you show me photos of your house in its worst state, submit an essay on your style of housekeeping, and then sign a waiver of confidentiality before stepping foot through my door.

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No One Asked You to Fix It (and if they did they didn't really mean it)

I'm "in a weird place" right now.

I use quotations because I am taking care to not conflate "I am depressed and anxious," with "Something in me feels depressed or anxious."

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Creative Killjoy

So what is it that has us think that we're only creative, we're only artists, if we can support ourselves solely on our art?  

Talk about pressure, talk about killjoy, talk abut writer's block.  

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