Welcome back...to the world, that is!

Today I have completed one month on my new temporary assignment.  Two days ago I went back to my home agency to spend a few minutes with each of several people with whom I had loose ends to tie.  It was unanimous:  "You look so relaxed!" each of them said.  I actually had to sit for 15 minutes outside the office of one of them, waiting for her to be free.  And, I just sat there...relaxed, breathing.  What a difference a month makes.

How did I get here in just 30 days?  Well, let's start with where I was a month ago.  I'd been working 12-hour days for years.  I almost never got to eat lunch unless it was grabbing a bite, quite literally on the run.  Meetings were scheduled back-to-back, every 30 to 60 minutes, with no breaks, meaning that drinking water and bathroom stops were luxuries about which I'd forgotten.

When I walked out of the office at 7:30 most evenings and commuted home, I usually hit the door, headed to the kitchen to make coffee for morning, prepare lunch for those fleeting pass-throughs of my office when I might grab a morsel on the run, and cooked dinner, which I then tried to eat without falling asleep in my plate.  (Usually, but not always successful.  Success was usually contingent on the day of the week.  Higher likelihood of staying awake through dinner on Monday than Friday.)

That had been my life for years. So, when I started this new job which allowed me to work a "normal" workday and then walk to a Metro stop that was closer to home, My old programming was still in place.  One of the first evenings, I came home and did all of the above without falling asleep, and when I was cleaning the dishes from dinner, I glanced over at the clock, and it was 7:00!  I had done all that stuff, and it was still earlier than I had been accustomed to leaving the office.  I literally heaved a sigh...and then laughed out loud.

I quickly adjusted to being able to do things after work--run an errand or two, go to a dinner at my church or with a friend, go to a movie, volunteer for a local theater and see the play without falling asleep, do my laundry or pay bills on a week night, leaving time for more fun stuff on the weekend.  And, I started breathing and moved at a normal, rather than break-neck, pace.

When each of my appointments acknowledged how relaxed I looked Monday, I felt  acknowledgement that I was back in the world--I am a real person again.

On September 29, just days after starting the new job, I wrote in this blog that I had discovered that my accelerator had stuck in high gear, and I pledged to use these four and a half months to remember how I used to live.  I have to admit that early in my career, I had been a workaholic, and like any addiction, once an addict, always an addict.  When things got tight, in the early 2000s, I just fell right off the wagon and back into those old habits.

But, I do remember a very long time when I lived a sane life, stopping at the gym on the way home from work, having a drink and going over mail with my partner, and cooking together joyfully in the kitchen.  After it was established and when my business was going well, I both exercised and danced almost every day, and I took time to write. I cooked for fun and even played the piano occasionally, although never well.  My life was full but relaxed much of the time.

I have proven that I can reclaim that part of me again.  I have yet to prove that I can sustain it.  I do know that I need to be clearer about my boundaries, and I am optimistic that with a new boss when I return, I can maintain them.  Yet, I know the Universe abhors a vacuum, and the Universe of a recovering workaholic certainly abhors a vacuum.  I am being very intentional about identifying and exercising practices which will solidify my resolve.  Writing regularly again is one of them.  So is exercising. Pleasure reading is up there too.  I want to learn to do those things so regularly in the next three and a half months that my new healthier habits will sustain me when I go back to my old job.

I understand that having a life is a choice, and it is a choice that I am going to make, each and every day in the future.

There was Water Out There

When working with groups, I've often focused the attention of participants on one part of the room, and then asked them a question about a different part of the room.  Rarely can anyone recall anything for the part of the room away from where they were looking.  What we focus on truly determines what we miss. 

I worked out of town this week at NASA's Stennis Space Center in Mississippi.  By the time I stowed my car, gathered my luggage, and arrived at my room, it was long after dark, and I had a call to make.  The draperies in my hotel room were drawn, and I had no reason to open them.  I slept.  I awakened, got ready, and went to work. 

Tuesday evening I returned before dark and threw the draperies open to get light.  To my amazement, my hotel room looked out over a beautiful estuary.  I believe it was the Pearl River.  The water was as smooth as glass, accented by sailboats at a small marina.  The view literally took my breath away.  I'd had no idea there was such a beautiful view. 

 

 

My discovery really made me think: what else in my life am I missing, just because I'm not looking?  I'm failing to throw back the draperies that conceal magic.

 

Yesterday I spent the day with a fairly new friend, learning to make tamales and talking for hours as we made the ingredients and then assembled and cooked them.  Although a crush of pre-holiday have-to-dos were awaiting, I chose to be present and totally focused on our fun.  It was relaxing and joyful.  I was so pleased with myself and having had the consciousness to turn away from the lists and just be with my new friend.

 

This evening, my focus was on old friends.  The annual task of writing Christmas cards turned joyful as I reveled in the opportunity to stay in touch with people who have been special in my life for decades, some going back to college days.  Once again, I allowed myself to be present to the joy instead of distracted by others things I might be doing.

 

My intentions for the new year are pretty much the same as they've been for a couple years: write more, get more exercise, and spend time building meaningful relationships.  What has distracted me from these important things in the past has been that I focused on the have-to-dos related to my work instead of the choose-to-dos in my personal life. 

 

In 2015, the vivid imagery of the estuary behind my hotel room will remind me to focus on the sources of beauty in my life and be joyfully present to them.

The Forgiveness of All Humankind

Almost three months ago, I adopted a new set of eight spiritual statements upon which to focus my spiritual growth during this dark half of the year.  At least several times a day, and sometimes many times a day, I say and reflect upon these affirmations.  Something shifted yesterday.  As I was saying them, suddenly one took on new meaning.  I've had this happen before.  My understanding has to get deep enough for me to truly "get it." I find it a bit like looking at something, which has been in the shadows, but which the sun has finally reached: wow! all the color, dimension and intricacies that I missed when it was in the semi-darkness.

Yesterday, the statement  "My work is the forgiveness of all humankind" shifted. Since I write, speak, and coach, I have been thinking that I was supposed to encourage people with whom I come in contact to forgive people in their lives.  The idea, I thought, was that if enough people forgave enough others that eventually all humankind would be forgiven.

As I've sunk more and more deeply into this spiritual learning, a different meaning has revealed itself to me.  To paraphrase, sometimes it is all about me.  Yesterday's revelation was that I am supposed to forgive everyone with whom I have ever come in contact, no matter how big or small their grievance.  At first doing so didn't really seem like such a big deal.  I regularly "purge" myself of grudges, resentments, and anger with forgiveness.  I don't think that I harbor much.  People in my life who have committed egregious offenses have not only be forgiven but forgotten as well. I even forgive myself from time to time, although I admit that I am not nearly as good about self-forgiveness.

Consequently, I am not sure why forgiving all humankind seems like such big deal, besides the fact that "all humankind" is a whole boat load of people.  As I've meditated on this, the spheres of influence on forgiveness have broadened.  Not just people who have done things to me, but resentments I may carry about violations of others are included.  Then, there was the wave about people who have committed destructive acts to the planet and even crimes against humanity. Of course, with my personal interest in politics, there are plenty of politicians that could do with some forgiving. There are also the historical violations of our individual and collective ancestors, such as slavery, the treatment of Native Americans in the US, and the near extinction of many species.  You get the idea.  The more I sit with it, the more I am able to see just how much in the world is to be forgiven. 

I am certain that this forgiveness of all humankind is the work of a lifetime.  I expect that in the time during which I forgive one or two that a dozen more acts will have been committed to be forgiven.  If I really think about it, I am overwhelmed, so I just don't think about it...at least not in a worrisome way.  If I did, I'd have to forgive myself for worrying.  I am still trying to just be with how this plays out, but I sense that at the end, I will be back in that most alluring spot: being present.  With nothing to pull me into the past or the future, here I am...now...present.

I believe I've mentioned before that spiritual teacher Carolyn Myss has said our most important spiritual work is to be present.  As I explore the many dimensions of spiritual growth and learning, all roads seem to lead back to being present.  It makes sense that if we get to the place where we can truly be present in the present, we would have mastered many other spiritual lessons along the way.
For now, it seems to me that the dimension of being present with which I am currently engaged is to forgive...and forgive...and forgive some more.