Category Archives: Blogtoberfest

Wishcasting Wednesday

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picture from jamie’s post

What do you wish to make room for?

Myself. I am outwardly focused so much of the time (what I have to do for my paid work, what I want to communicate on my blog, what my tiny family needs, what I want to share, what my body requires) that I forget myself, deny myself, abandon and reject myself.

Meditation practice. It’s the thing that gets cheated in a day that’s too busy, when I’m overwhelmed, but it’s the thing that is medicine, a cure and comfort to those conditions.

My hungers and core values. This is an ongoing shifting and clearing to make room. I can get caught up in should and external expectations, in pleasing, perfecting, performing, and these important, deep desires get squashed.

Joy. This hurts to admit, makes me so sad, but I am caught right now in a cycle of dread, panic, and depression, and I’m not allowing for joy. I either “don’t have time,” am too tired, or am so focused on and upset about the bad stuff I can’t see beyond it, can’t see past its shadow. I wish to make room for laughter and light, for softening into appreciation, for joy.

Rest. I’m still so bad at this. I carry a mental to-do list with me everywhere, heavy and long, adding to it and updating it constantly, pushing and doing and going. I wish to make room for relief, relaxation, rest, time to do nothing, accomplish nothing, restore.

Connection and service. These are so deeply wed, so closely joined that I don’t even know how to wish for them separately. I wish to notice and be noticed, to help and belong, to offer love and be loved in return.

Grief. I wish to make room for this profound sadness, the heartbreaking loss, to open up to how big it really is, how vast, to allow it to fill the space it fills.

Uncertainty and impermanence. Instead of rejecting, trying to control, wishing things would be different, I long to open the door, make room for this truth.

Love. There could always be more room for this–the answer to every question, the true and deep longing underlying every other wish ever made.

Three Truths and One Wish

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1. Truth: I find it really, really difficult to go on with my life as usual when someone I love is dying. Today is Eric and I’s 19th wedding anniversary, and even though we have tickets for an Aimee Mann concert tomorrow night, tickets I bought specifically as an anniversary present for us, we both forgot that today was the day to celebrate because we’ve been too distracted by the hard stuff in our lives. And it’s not just the big stuff I’m having trouble engaging, it’s all the small stuff. I had a moment last night when I noticed the thick layer of dust in the living room, on the books, the TV, the end tables, and my first thought after noticing was “I’ll dust when Dexter is gone, because I can’t face it right now, can’t waste time on that. It’s just not important.”

2. Truth: I don’t always know what to do. For a retired perfectionist, a master puzzle solver and super stubborn human, this is incredibly frustrating. I try to stay openhearted and present, quiet and still enough that my innate wisdom can arise, but quite often, the panicked chatter of my monkey mind and the howling of intense emotions get in the way and I am confused.

3. Truth: Practice helps me clear my mind and stay in the present moment. When I write, I can dump all the nonsense and the noise and work my way towards understanding. Yoga and walking help me to move, to feel my body in the world, just as it is, to engage with it fully, to release the tension of resisting the way things are and the wishing for things to be different. When I meditate, my mind softens and settles and I can practice being gentle, allowing my deeper wisdom and compassion to manifest. And the practices of love and dog constantly remind me of impermanence, of the reality that change is real and I have no control, that all I can do is surrender, to open my heart and love knowing full well that my heart will be broken as a result.

One wish: For relief, for our collective suffering, shared and private, to ease. For us to find the strength to stand right where we are, just as we are, keeping our hearts open to the way things really are, knowing that we are a part of something beautiful.