THE MIRACLE OF THE ACTUAL

 I wish I could claim that phrase.  It's from the novel TransAtlantic by Colum McCann. Those words wrapped around my neck when I read it and held me tight.
  
I have been in two exaggerated states of mind all day.  Focused on the insanity of our world right now (and maybe always).  
Grotesque kidnappings, murder out of boredom, blowing ancient cultures to smithereens in hysterical violence, nature showing who's boss.  You name it and I was wallowing in it.

OR I was trying to counter that negativity by determined optimism and effort.
Hey let's do it.
Life is better than it is!  Just dream it, do it, have it.
What's wrong with you Joyce? Think big.  Live large.  Goading myself.

Not satisfying on a day of no obligation.  White space to use as I wanted.
And I was making myself nuts.

So I went to the porch and to my default.  A book.  Can't figure out life?  Read.
Mad at the world?  Read.  Itchy but not wanting to do anything?  Read.

So I did.  And there was that phrase--the miracle of the actual.
And I dropped into it.  Just like Alice in Wonderland.  There it was.
The lawn dappled with late afternoon shade.
The Adirondack chairs lit by sun -- white white on the green grass.
The window boxes on the porch  happy and still Summer healthy--a hallucinogenic  purple in the shadows.
The forty foot spruce bouncing its long graceful grande dame like arms.
Coffee  hot on the side table.
The air light and startling clear.
Kids shouting at cars to stop for a car wash -- an adolescent descant.
Farmer's market flowers  on the table.
A crow scolding
A white candle drooped from sun melt.
All note perfect. 


I'm chilly.  I hold still.
I sit with my hands clasped under my nose, not wanting to move to the moment when I'll slide out of the miracle of the actual.  Everything OK just as it is.  No need to edit.  No flaws, no tasks.  I hold the moment.  

I mean, the universe laughed at me and held up a mirror to my belly-aching through plain perfect beauty.  

I AM SO RELIEVED TO KNOW I'M HAPPY

Don't ask me why I'm relieved to know I'm happy, But I am.  Deep down happy.
On the surface of life, the day to day, maybe not so much.
Lately, I've been irritated and balancing all kinds of conflict and not laughing enough. 

BUT, today I got affirmation that I'm happy.
Deep deep deep deep down happy.

I went to my first Yoga class.
My daughter took me as a gift.
I loved every moment of it.
Every silent hysterical moment of it.

First of all it was some kind of "restoration" yoga--oops "restorative" yoga.
As my daughter said afterward it was like an organized nap.
We flopped around on the floor getting into positions (I mean poses) very like what any 18 month old sleeps in.  We never did stand up.
The teacher was quite lovely.  Let's get that out of the way right now.
But the minute I get into a situation that is supposed to be silent and serious---
I get the giggles.  Which I love. There are few things better than giggles.
Suppressed are the best.  Church communion was great for giggles.  Quiet libraries.  Funerals.

The minute I got quiet and my breathing slowed down, my natural desire to be naughty and rebellious got kicked up.  Which made me happy.  Which made me giddy with the wrong kind of gratitude.

I knocked my block over--my glasses were on it.
When I put my hands down my rings clunked.
We had blankets to use which along with the mats and bolsters reminded me of Kindergarten naps--which I flunked for talking too much.

The leader told us to forget our "to do" list which totally activated mine.
We were not to think about Monday tasks.  Right.  My Monday is now all planned.
I began to remember weird  unfinished tasks like buying a wig for a young bald woman in Mexico.  True.  Random "to do's" came pouring out of me.  I wanted a court reporter to quietly capture them.  So incredibly productive.  My mind was on fire. My adrenaline was coursing.  

The teacher told us to settle into the quiet and fire engines with full blown sirens went by.  Oh I loved it.  

I had such a good time.  Semi-sleeping on the floor by my daughter was nice and cozy too like having lunch with no talk and calories.  I was good and quiet as we put away our toys.  I tiptoed out reverently like everyone else.  I was ready to honor my daughter's practice.

We sat outside the classroom for a minute before getting in the car.  My daughter looked at me and said, "I have my whole life planned out for the next three months."  We  had a good guffaw.  What's better?

So when I am guided into my deepest, most authentic self, I like who I am.
Happy.  Ready to laugh and be naughty.  Full of crazy joy.  On the surface, I may be a mess, but deep deep deep ohm deep, I am happy.  I love yoga.

CIVILITY. IT EXISTS! I'VE SEEN IT!!!

I keep meaning to share this.
I have seen civil behavior in actual practice.
And in an airport crisis of all situations!
Experienced it.
Benefited from it.
Been heartened by it.

I was on the way to my brother's funeral on very short notice.
It was a Friday.  The service was on Saturday.  I was traveling from Portland Maine to South Bend Indiana.
My travel agent tried to book a prudent flight path given both weather and the impact of sequestration. (Will jump right over that)
My husband and I made it to Detroit Michigan easily enough.

Then all hell oozed loose.  Little by little disintegration began.
One delay posted.  Second delay posted.  Weather.  
End of day approaching.  Anxiety building.
People flooding the agents desk.  No answers.  No hope.  No service.
People competing for information and  for seats on any possible next plane.
I called my sister-in-law to say I probably would not make the service.
Tears all around.
We this great mass of people sat with our irritations and thwarted plans fuming.

It was a gridlock of no information, no authoritative help, not enough resource combined with  competitive fear and moral outrage.

Then something shifted.  It happened at the moment of defeat.
We began to share with one another our specific situations.
One woman just back from Singapore visiting her daughter sick husband at home in little town near South Bend.
A couple heading to give a workshop at Notre Dame. On first thing the next morning.
My need to get to my brother's funeral.

We began connecting based on common circumstances of geography and need   pointing out people to one another who were in the same boat.

The Singapore lady lived near my brother.
She had the last ticket for the flight that might (or might not) take off.
She wanted to give it to me and my husband would go back to Maine.
We were all making cell phone calls to hotels and loved ones--adapting.

Then I said, "I'm going if I have to take a taxi!"
Bingo.  The Singapore woman, my husband and I decide to rent a car.
Another 6 people going to Notre Dame rented a van.
On and on.  People grouping together to get what they wanted.
Some sharing a taxi for a hotel hunt.

This cooperative problem solving didn't start until we began to share stories and  until we gave up on any authority or expert helping us.  Hello.  Absorb that.

Off my husband and I and the Singapore Lady trudged taking turns carrying our luggage to the car rental place.  The three of us a triumvirate of jet lag, grief, exhaustion and betrayal by weather and airlines.
It was not until we got on the road to South Bend and were 15 minutes down the road that we introduced ourselves.  And not til we were on the road for an hour that we realized it was going to be a five hour trip.  

We chatted about work, religion, and food.  We stopped for coffee and ice cream.  We stopped for bathroom breaks.  We were on a family vacation in the middle of the night as strangers.  Later we would laugh as everyone we called to share our plan was worried about what we were doing and whether we (meaning all of us) were trustworthy.  

My husband and I were driven up to the door of my sister-in-law's house at 4 AM in the morning.  She ran out with homemade jam for our guardian angel lady. (Midwest response to any crisis)  We all hugged.  And that was it.  I may find her email address and I may not.

The point is that we were civil and generous with one another--this bunch of 300 or so people.  But not at first.  Not when we thought someone else could help us even if it meant it would hurt someone else.  After all, it was authority.  But when things fell apart and it could have turned Lord of the Flies, it didn't.  We used restraint and generosity and collaboration and people got where they needed to go.  Not just our group.  We passed people who shared their plans. A van.  A shared hotel room. Camping out in the airport with sleeping bags.  The airline employees had given up long ago and had gone home.  We took care of ourselves.

End of story.
Civil behavior won.
Why not more of this?

EXCITEMENT/ANXIETY/EXCITEMENT/ANXIETY

For me, anxiety and excitement live next door to one another.
Very close neighbors on the emotional scale.

Excitement gets me going.
Anxiety holds me back.
But both are full of energy to be used.

Excitement should be listened to.
Anxiety not so much.

Listen to the definitions:
Excitement--a feeling of great enthusiasm and eagerness
Anxiety--a desire to do something accompanied by unease

One is about feeling and one is about doing.
I always have some idea I'm excited about at the feeling level.
Doing is where the anxiety kicks in with it's unease.
Then again, excitement is not exactly long term comfortable.

Soooooo--how do I say this nicely?
Screw unease.
Don't let it win
It means you want to get something done.
AND if your going to have to manage being uneasy, then do something excitingly big enough or important enough or meaningful enough.

I had a client who wanted to make a big geographic and professional move.
She dreamed it, planned it and then said, "Now I have to go to lots of therapy so I'm not afraid to do this thing."  I looked at her and said, "What's fear got to do with it?"  She was stunned.  Thought she had to get rid of fear before she acted.  She got it.  She made her move and created exactly what she envisioned.  To the nth degree.  Beyond bizarre.


Trust me, I am talking to myself.
Thanks, anxiety for making me want to "do".








a desire to do something accompanies by unease
a feeling of great enthusiasm and eagerness