Weekend: Feathers in the Wind...

One of the things I do after I've found myself in some sort of conflict is to spend some time in quiet thought. It is also when I call in my team of trusted others, those who know me, whom I know and with whom I have a relationship that allows for frank discussion.

One of those people is Ajahn S. I trust his judgment and perception without question.

After Wednesday's conflict, I needed his perspective. I wrote him an email, explaining what had occurred from my perspective, provided him with all the links and relevant data.. and asked him to tell me his thoughts.

He has given me permission to reprint them here. Since English is his second language, I have edited. He has seen it and approved of the changes I made, none of which involve content.

His comments are in italics.

"I don't want to sound like a fortune cookie, but if this roundtable discussion has pushed a button in you that would set you off that severely, then you have been given a great gift. When our behavior is all that we want it to be, we don't learn much of anything about ourselves. You've been given an opportunity to dig into something that gets you right where you live."

It would have been quite a stretch to get me to buy this one on first glance! I didn't feel like I'd been given a gift. It felt more like a sucker punch!

He continues:

"Now, maybe, in order to deal with that, you need to take some time away. Fine. But please don't just turn tail and run. And don't blame it on anyone else. "

It was not and is not my intent to blame anyone else.. or to turn tail and run. What I really want to learn is a way to disagree more effectively, how to use my voice without it getting loud and brash. I want to be heard.. in a gentler way.

"I'm reminded of something someone said to me, many years ago, about mental illness. He said, "Heck, if we could send everybody on an endless cruise -- no stress, no poverty -- there wouldn't _be_ any mental illness." I've always felt that he was exaggerating, but there is a little kernel of truth in what he was saying. It's the things that _stress_ us, that _challenge_ our ideas about ourselves, that teach us most about who we are. I'm not suggesting that you run face-first into an electric fan, but it would be sad and wasteful for you to ignore this opportunity to learn more about yourself. How else can you grow and change for the better?"

This is a good point... but I would like to examine is how we can ALL do this better. I don't mean that in a judgmental sense. What I mean is establishing a way that will give us all the freedom to engage in conflicting opinions without hurting each other. How can we disagree without creating collateral damage? I'm well aware of the fact that I created a bit more than my share. Why do we so often find ourselves in conflict and there are bloody bodies found among the survivors? Others are simply annihilated.

"The way that we can develop compassion for even the people who don't have any compassion is to be able to bear to catch ourselves in the moments when our compassion is missing-in-action or otherwise deficient. If we give into the urge to blame our lapse on the phase of the moon or western technology or whatever, then we miss out on that opportunity, and we'll spend the rest of our lives looking down (however subtly) on others. "

Isn't it true? There is usually something we can manage to find as an object of blame. It would have been different if we'd been in person? It would have been different if the zebra crossed the road at the right time on Tuesday?

That doesn't quite make sense, does it? Not really. We all own our lapses. I own mine.

"So, as I see it, you're at a choice point. Do you scramble madly to distance yourself from your actions and remove any sense of responsibility (that's the clinging-to-the-need-to-be-right part)? Or do you sit down and say, wow, I really did something that I find reprehensible. And you sit with that, literally, in meditation. Poke it, prod it, feel it, feel around it, accept it, reject it, analyze it, fantasize about it, in short -- work through it. Believe me, in the long run, you'll be a far more humane being for doing so. And that is what it's all about, right?"

With loving-kindness,
S******

I think that is what we all wanted. And the further we try to distance ourselves from these issues, the more they repeat themselves. As women, we are not accustomed to conflict or disagreement. We are trained to make nice-nice and never offend. So when the volcano begins to rumble, it can overflow so quickly that it seems spontaneous. During that conflict, I hurt another human being with my words. Words matter. If you don't believe me, take a feather pillow to the top of a mountain, rip it open and let the feathers fly in the wind. Now go try to pick them up. That is what careless speech is like. There is no way to ever take those words back ~ and nothing is ever the same again.

What that does is effectively contribute to silencing all of us ~ making us more reluctant to discuss the important stuff next time ~ even though we have a similar goal, to make the world a better place and to understand and resolve complex issues.

We are all good people.

I believe that. We need to remember that. I need to remember that.

With loving-kindness...

Indeed.

Of course, I would like to hear your views and thoughts on conflict and conflict resolution, how you respond to conflict, how you deal with it.

~*~

** Please take a few moments to go this site and offer Jenn some support. Of course, I send all of my best healing thoughts to her.

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336 posts ago....

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Note: My other blog has been updated as of today. Click on sidebar if you'd like to read it.

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When I opened up this template, it told me that this is my 337th post.

I can't believe it!

Printed out, it would be the equivalent of a book!

Yesterday, I took the day off from posting.. and didn't really miss it much. I puttered around, cleaning things that needed cleaning and pulling weeds from the garden. All afternoon, I lay around on the bed, reading, with an old movie playing in the background.

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Last night at an odd time, I got a surprise phone call.

The phone rang at 1.30 a.m, brought me out of a dead sleep and nearly scared me half to death. I'm not the sort of person to get middle-of-the-night calls. I'm not on anyone's emergency list and even when my father passed, I got an email asking me to call (subtext: at a decent hour).

I reached for the phone, figuring it was some drunk dialing a wrong number. It couldn't be Deborah's bill collectors, the previous owner of my phone number who seems to have a lot of outstanding debt. I get her calls a lot. Um. A lot. "Is this Deborah B*****?", "No." "Does she live there?", "Not unless she's hiding in the closet."

Clunk.

Friday night I had a planned phone call from a fellow blogger that was long and delightful and rambling. We covered a hundred topics in a nearly four-hour phone call. We tossed subjects out like pebbles on a lake, seeing where the ripples would lead next. They led from the lake, to the river, to the ocean. It was wonderful. I am not ordinarily at ease with people but found myself quite at ease with her.

Anyway, during that conversation, I must have conjured up the person who called last night in the weesmas.

Finally, I caught the phone before the voicemail kicked on.

"'Lo"

"S'wadee, dear."

I sat up straight in bed, wide awake.

It was my beloved Ajahn S.

"Aaaah. Oh. Ah. Hellll-LO! How are YOU?" I felt like crying!

"How you do? I thinking about you."

His accent is something I tend to forget. When he speaks English, he sounds like Ting Tong Macadangdang from the British TV comedy. He even uses outdated British slang.

"Fine. Um. Fine. Uh."

Funny how we get tongue-tied around people we not only admire, but people we have given a degree of authority in our lives. I couldn't imagine why he would be calling me. I hoped like you can't imagine that he has not found this blog... or started to read it regularly. He'd probably think I'm some sort of idiot!

"Do you know when you come back?"

Gave my projection. Probably next summer some time. Sooner, if possible. This latest wrinkle with my father might delay me a bit, especially if the will goes into probate.

"Being there not you so good for, eh?"

I talked for a few minutes with him, the kind of honesty that takes place with someone we trust completely. No, it's not easy.. but, yes, I'm coping. I want to come home. I miss you. I miss your family. I miss the friends I made there. I even miss R., my host, crash pad provider when I was there before.

I was struck by the power of those words. "I want to come home." Feeling in exile, stranded, unrooted. At this point, I explained, I've kind of accepted my fate for what it is and am not going to give in to complete rootlessness. I'll remain rooted to the periphery of life here.

And I've put to rest and found peace with the fact that no one here in my private life has any understanding of what that's about. I don't need them to understand. Not any more.

So, we talked on for twenty minutes or so and I went back to sleep feeling wanted, feeling loved, feeling a part of.

It's a peaceful kind of feeling. I don't think I had that word for it.. before.

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The Thai fashionista is at it again!

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I spent a lot of time this morning ordering more clothes, getting ready for fall. This routine takes place twice a year or so when I place a large order for pants, skirts and tops.

My closet is filling up now and it's getting easier and easier each day to grab something and wear it without much thought. The pants above are a staple. I have them in every imaginable color. They're so comfortable that I can't resist them.

Tops are always harder. I have big.. um... well.. big b**bs. :) These clothes are made for smaller women so when I find something that works, I buy several at a time.

The blue one to the left specifically has become another staple. They're easy and comfortable so I buy several at a time in different colors.

Lately, I've been buying a lot more Hmong-influenced clothing. The bright colors and the embroidery appeal to me. I can feel the history and can imagine the individual artisans who make them. In fact, I saw plenty of it when I was actually there, buying these things from street vendors and small shops.

This look makes me happy and it never ceases to amaze me how many compliments I get. When I first decided to do this, I wasn't sure what kind of reaction I'd get. Would people just think I'd gone off the deep end, this very blond (out of the bottle, yes), heavyset, aging woman who dresses like the women we see in pictures of the Karen Hilltribe?

Strangely, the reaction has been very positive, including among the Thai population I know here. They seem to be flattered by my appreciation.

The truth is that when I wear these clothes, it isn't just because I like the fashion. When I see it, feel it and wear it, I feel history. Connection.

It seems as though I can smell the air and feel the humidity on my skin. I can imagine the women over the generations who made and wore these clothes.

When I was in Thailand, I saw very few people wearing these clothes, even in the Northeast which is where I feel most at home. They wore these kinds of things on special occasions. There were some older women who continued to wear it. For the most part, I saw lots of jeans and t-shirts, just like here. I thought it was unfortunate. It somehow detracts from the history and the culture. I was always enchanted when I saw someone wearing traditional clothes.

It made me want to sit and have tea with that person.

My spiritual teacher in Thailand, Ajahn S., always wears traditional clothes. He says it keeps him mindful and helps him remember his ancestors and the history that preceded him. He doesn't even own a pair of jeans. It is also a public statement of sorts. It is his way of maintaining his culture. When I went to visit him, I always wore traditional clothes, too, out of respect for him. I did it out of solidarity because I also value traditional Thai culture.

I rarely get an opportunity to wear my really traditional clothes and I miss it. It's beautiful and graceful. For now though, I'll be content with this everyday stuff.. my connection.. my statement.


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Sumo-Contortionist

Remember when I mentioned a few months ago that I'd been informed by my spiritual advisor that discipline was one of my major weaknesses?

And I agreed. And I decided to use yoga as a method of developing discipline.

It's been a month. Morning for 15 minutes and evenings for 15 minutes.

At first, I really liked it. I like the graceful movement of it. As I graduated from level one to level one point five, it began to get harder. And harder. And harder.

Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined that muscles exist in some of these places. Such pain, I've never known! My back feels like someone has been punching me. My rear end feels like I've been sitting on broken glass. My muscles burn.

And, yes, I know it's good for me... but...

Ajahn S got a snarky email from me recently: You should get your scrawny Thai ass over here and try to do this!
To which he replied: Hmmmmm. Mhmmmm.

One day, when I see him again, he will regret that "mhmmmm".

Smart ass! :)


Peace,

~Chani

Reconnecting to the rhythm of life ....

This past few weeks have been .. um.. challenging.

It's amazing how fast we can forget certain things and go back, full-fledged, into negativity of a life we've left behind. I've spent the past few weeks flopping around like a big fish on the deck of an old river boat, not connected to the things I should be ~ and totally connected to things that are not healthy and just take me back to an old way of being.

This is going to sound silly but I truly recognized it when I got up this morning, made tea, got dressed and didn't even bother with my jewelry.

That sounds goofy ~ but symbols are important to me and my stinky mind was disconnecting me from my symbols.

I revisited the past and got stuck there for a while. Anyone who has read here at all has probably noticed that my moodiness is a real problem. Sometimes I never know when it will come. It just hits me like a hurricane. It's my own personal Katrina.

Long long ago in a land far away, I learned an important lesson from AA. What they call "stinkin' thinkin'" is what gets most of us in trouble. Our minds start working overtime, taking our hard-earned and precious serenity, pulling it over rocks and sticks until it finds the one vulnerable place to attack. My lizard brain started taunting me:

Everyone hates you. I hate you. Life sucks, so go eat worms until you die! No one will give a shit anyway! You'll never get to Thailand, you unworthy piece of crap! Let's just go get drunk! C'mon! It won't hurt.. and no one will even know!

What am I? 15?

Grow up!

Five years of work can cascade down the drain in a few minutes if we begin to listen to those thoughts. That's what stinking thinking will do. Somehow, our minds are always our worst enemy.

I made an impulsive decision. I called my spiritual advisor in Thailand. It will probably cost me more than fifty dollars but it was worth every dime. I truly needed him. It was time to get my thinking straight again ... but needed guidance from someone wiser. It is 14 hours later in Khon Kaen and I had perhaps 20 minutes before it would become too late to call. I picked up the phone ....

Your problem has always been discipline. This is your weakness.

Ajahn S. and I talked about self-mastery and the level of discipline we need to take care of ourselves. When he mentioned that, I realized the truth in his statement. I get up each day and wander through it, no direction, no purpose. I just exist from sunrise to sunset.

Your problem has always been discipline. This is your weakness.

He knew what I'd been doing without my telling him.

When I first began all of this, meaning when I got back from Thailand, I knew to get up at a certain time, meditate, go for a walk, come back and have tea ~ then decide on something to do for the day. Whether it is reading, writing, working in the garden, cooking, studying something, practicing my language lessons, exercising, cleaning or doing something for one of my housemates or a neighbor, I kept reasonably busy. Not frenetic, just comfortably occupied. There is always more than enough to fill a day but when the stinkin' thinkin' comes, I don't do anything. I've been known to sit in front of the tube all day which is seriously the worse thing anyone can do. Getting bombarded hour after hour with advertising and crappy cultural dreck values will begin to make a dent in anyone's serenity.

Not good.. and completely within my control.

He gave me an "assignment". I won't go into the details of it because it wouldn't make sense to anyone who isn't involved in the same type of spiritual practice but I can honestly say that it is helping already.

I am still going a few rounds with my lizard brain but feel strong enough to fend it off.


Peace, all...


~Chani