I am back home in Seattle, and as excited as I was to return, the feeling did not land with me.
I feel lost and a little confused. Wanting to hug the people I meet and greet everyone with a smile and a Spanish greeting. But, I can't. I feel like I am unsure of how to return to where I was.
The problem is, I can't. When I say I feel lost, it's probably because I actually am. I have to carve a new path to walk down.
Part of me anticipates this being read with criticism and judgement but the truth is is that these are my feelings and no one can say otherwise. I feel as I need to prove to someone that it's okay that I feel this way but that is because I want to live up to these presumed expectations that I am thinking that everyone is thinking I should be full of life and joy after returning from this trip. When reality, I am projecting my own expectations. (I laugh at my own ridiculousness.)
Costa Rica was difficult and beautiful but it became my life and home for a while and it always painful to accept the death of things.
I loved seeing another culture and practicing it as my own. It's hard to return and to have to leave it behind. I went to Costa Rica prepared to do so, but not in returning.
Something that Costa Rica taught me is the comparison factor that we do. My Way vs Their Way. I was caught with this a couple times with things that displeased myself and was surprised at my own response and reminded myself, "Not better or worse, just different."
I was surprised to find that I carried this back to Seattle with me when I was confronted to my usual patterns of being irritated and passing judgements. "Not bad, just different."
I hadn't realized how judgmental and self-centered I am until I returned to Seattle. I am really thankful that Costa Rica has shown me so. Because it is my selfishness and judgements that I build my own prison.
Like the breaths we take in each moment, I breathe in what is now and as I breath out, relax my grip on the things that I think should be.
Tranquila.
Wednesday, September 24, 2014
Thursday, September 4, 2014
Costa Rica
When I first arrived in Costa Rica it was really difficult for me. I was timid and scared as I sat down for breakfast with my new family for the next 4 weeks. They spoke little to know English and I knew only small phrases that made me sound similar to a cave man. "How I go school?"
I was so incredibly anxious not knowing anyone nor where any of my fellow students were.
Spanish words were swimming in my head.
On Monday when I finally met up with the other students I had never been so happy to speak English. I don't know if there is a worse feeling than not being able to communicate your own self. Your own thoughts and feelings.
Although I was able to speak English with my fellow cohorts, part of me was still missing. I began to pull away from Costa Rica and into a search for myself. Most of which I found in the companionship of other English speakers. This was my bandaid.
Today I went on a walk with my iPod. I walked alongside the narrow cement road noticing the many cyclists and motorists whom rode by, along with the occasional red taxi.
I looked at the houses and what felt like to me, odd balance of beauty and disarray. Nice cement driveways with large black gates surrounding and mud that hung between the house and the street and the occasional smell of sewage.
At other places I would stop at the side of the road where the houses opened up to the sugar cane fields. There it would stretch into the hills and the hills that climbed into the mountains.
Tranquila.
A word that is common amongst Costa Rican people, or Ticos, as they like to call themselves.
I walked further, still letting my playlist sing to my own voice. I could feel myself breathe again. I could hear my own voice climbing out of me. And finally I could see what it was I came here for.
The colors and warmth of Costa Rica was more alive tome now. It's like I had found the language I was trying to speak the whole time.
I couldn't hear because I forgot how to listen.
I couldn't hear because I couldn't.
Despite my minimal words and construed sentences, I can still communicate kindness.
My host mom and I, despite our language barrier have been able to talk about the difficulty in communicating with each other.
We both had been concerned with the feelings the other had regarding our self. I was worried I would offend her in some cultural way I knew nothing about, and she was worried I didn't like her or her family.
We hugged and understood one another.
Something she reminds me of, "poca a poca."
Little by little.
I always want to run full speed into something and that's okay. But sometimes it is helpful to take it little by little as you go.
Life is hard. But life is beautiful.
Oh! To be curious!
To be wide eyed and excited to hunger with your senses.
We were born to love and laugh.
I drink coffee every morning that my host makes me and eat delicious frutas which she slices each morning for me.
I take a taxi to a beautiful campus where I learn and speak Spanish. I have a break each day where I drink another cup of coffee and eat galletas outside at a picnic table where tropical plants grow all around.
I've seen a coffee plantation and tropical animals. I've danced the salsa and swam in waterfalls. I've celebrated 50 years of life with my host mom's brother and met all of her family. And I have much more adventures to come. I am truly blessed by and with love.
Pura Vida.
I was so incredibly anxious not knowing anyone nor where any of my fellow students were.
Spanish words were swimming in my head.
On Monday when I finally met up with the other students I had never been so happy to speak English. I don't know if there is a worse feeling than not being able to communicate your own self. Your own thoughts and feelings.
Although I was able to speak English with my fellow cohorts, part of me was still missing. I began to pull away from Costa Rica and into a search for myself. Most of which I found in the companionship of other English speakers. This was my bandaid.
Today I went on a walk with my iPod. I walked alongside the narrow cement road noticing the many cyclists and motorists whom rode by, along with the occasional red taxi.
I looked at the houses and what felt like to me, odd balance of beauty and disarray. Nice cement driveways with large black gates surrounding and mud that hung between the house and the street and the occasional smell of sewage.
At other places I would stop at the side of the road where the houses opened up to the sugar cane fields. There it would stretch into the hills and the hills that climbed into the mountains.
Tranquila.
A word that is common amongst Costa Rican people, or Ticos, as they like to call themselves.
I walked further, still letting my playlist sing to my own voice. I could feel myself breathe again. I could hear my own voice climbing out of me. And finally I could see what it was I came here for.
The colors and warmth of Costa Rica was more alive tome now. It's like I had found the language I was trying to speak the whole time.
I couldn't hear because I forgot how to listen.
I couldn't hear because I couldn't.
Despite my minimal words and construed sentences, I can still communicate kindness.
My host mom and I, despite our language barrier have been able to talk about the difficulty in communicating with each other.
We both had been concerned with the feelings the other had regarding our self. I was worried I would offend her in some cultural way I knew nothing about, and she was worried I didn't like her or her family.
We hugged and understood one another.
Something she reminds me of, "poca a poca."
Little by little.
I always want to run full speed into something and that's okay. But sometimes it is helpful to take it little by little as you go.
Life is hard. But life is beautiful.
Oh! To be curious!
To be wide eyed and excited to hunger with your senses.
We were born to love and laugh.
I drink coffee every morning that my host makes me and eat delicious frutas which she slices each morning for me.
I take a taxi to a beautiful campus where I learn and speak Spanish. I have a break each day where I drink another cup of coffee and eat galletas outside at a picnic table where tropical plants grow all around.
I've seen a coffee plantation and tropical animals. I've danced the salsa and swam in waterfalls. I've celebrated 50 years of life with my host mom's brother and met all of her family. And I have much more adventures to come. I am truly blessed by and with love.
Pura Vida.
Monday, August 4, 2014
Validation
Lying in my bed I inhale the neighbors cigarette smoke that drifts inside my bedroom window.
His patio just on the other side of my wall. It's too hot to close the window, so I let the smoke slither in. the soft burning in my nose, I remember the time when I used to smoke.
That smoke would bellow my frustrations to the world. It would linger in my throat so tightly as if grabbing on and shaking it. My anger reverberating into my lungs and then back out my mouth. I loved smoking. I loved that it would comfort me and validate my feelings of inadequacy.
I would walk down the street, my breath short, and dragging my cigarette. I felt like the lone ranger. I felt like I was strong. I felt like my cigarette was my best friend.
The smoke I smell now is the lamentations of my best friend. Almost like a prayer of disparity.
My disparity that is. The feeling of not knowing anything about where I am going. How do I know I'm going somewhere? Because the anxiety to not be is greater than the not knowing.
I'm afraid of standing still. Of being left behind. The fear of finding out what I already believe to be true is that I am not needed. For anything. I lack of any importance or real meaning. If you wanna talk about fears, well this one is the bell ringer.
This fear longs to push people away, to protect myself from the inevitable. Why don't I just let it come? To accept that I am unwanted? Good question.
Because my hope keeps grabbing on. Like a small child that doesn't want to let go of her balloon.
But like each child that loses her balloon, she will throw a fit. Cries and screams, maybe even kicks and yells. This is how I feel in that moment of losing what I have been hoping for for so long. The hope which is always the branch that keeps me from my fall. When in actuality, what I need is to fall.
To be seen and heard is what everyone wants.
Its okay to want these things. This is the validation that I look for. Realizing that everything I feel is neither good nor bad. that everything I feel is okay and no one can tell me differently. Nor do I need to change my feelings for someone else so that they may avoid being uncomfortable.
My feelings are my feelings and exactly that.
I know in Psychology there is always that phrase, "change your thoughts change your feelings."
But I believe a lot of our feelings are automatic. Not to say they were not inspired by thoughts first, but the process that I believe is needed is to not shame our feelings but validate them and then look at that thought and decide if that is something we would like to believe in or not.
What I believe my greatest struggle is, is when I have an uncomfortable feeling, the first thing I want to do is figure out how to get rid of it. But for me what I am finding is that if I honor my feelings and allow them to be present with me, then the struggle isn't there.
Now I can hear what it is the Universe was trying to teach me.
His patio just on the other side of my wall. It's too hot to close the window, so I let the smoke slither in. the soft burning in my nose, I remember the time when I used to smoke.
That smoke would bellow my frustrations to the world. It would linger in my throat so tightly as if grabbing on and shaking it. My anger reverberating into my lungs and then back out my mouth. I loved smoking. I loved that it would comfort me and validate my feelings of inadequacy.
I would walk down the street, my breath short, and dragging my cigarette. I felt like the lone ranger. I felt like I was strong. I felt like my cigarette was my best friend.
The smoke I smell now is the lamentations of my best friend. Almost like a prayer of disparity.
My disparity that is. The feeling of not knowing anything about where I am going. How do I know I'm going somewhere? Because the anxiety to not be is greater than the not knowing.
I'm afraid of standing still. Of being left behind. The fear of finding out what I already believe to be true is that I am not needed. For anything. I lack of any importance or real meaning. If you wanna talk about fears, well this one is the bell ringer.
This fear longs to push people away, to protect myself from the inevitable. Why don't I just let it come? To accept that I am unwanted? Good question.
Because my hope keeps grabbing on. Like a small child that doesn't want to let go of her balloon.
But like each child that loses her balloon, she will throw a fit. Cries and screams, maybe even kicks and yells. This is how I feel in that moment of losing what I have been hoping for for so long. The hope which is always the branch that keeps me from my fall. When in actuality, what I need is to fall.
To be seen and heard is what everyone wants.
Its okay to want these things. This is the validation that I look for. Realizing that everything I feel is neither good nor bad. that everything I feel is okay and no one can tell me differently. Nor do I need to change my feelings for someone else so that they may avoid being uncomfortable.
My feelings are my feelings and exactly that.
I know in Psychology there is always that phrase, "change your thoughts change your feelings."
But I believe a lot of our feelings are automatic. Not to say they were not inspired by thoughts first, but the process that I believe is needed is to not shame our feelings but validate them and then look at that thought and decide if that is something we would like to believe in or not.
What I believe my greatest struggle is, is when I have an uncomfortable feeling, the first thing I want to do is figure out how to get rid of it. But for me what I am finding is that if I honor my feelings and allow them to be present with me, then the struggle isn't there.
Now I can hear what it is the Universe was trying to teach me.
Thursday, March 27, 2014
My dad, Ron Lyons.
It has been so long since I have wrote anything on here.
Something I experienced and came witness to recently, was while I was watching the movie, "Ordinary People." I had a time of great healing and realization. The movie is about a husband and wife and their son, of whom the eldest son and brother, dies in a boating accident. The younger brother was holding his brothers hand across the upturned boat while the waves were crashing and the wind and the rain were blowing. The older brother grew tired and let go and drowned.
The younger brother in the movie, struggles with PTSD and attempts suicide but is unsuccessful. The mom resents her younger teenage son for living when the eldest died. And the dad, feels caught in the middle of the two, overwhelmed with guilt on not being able to solve either problems.
The younger brother begins to see a therapist and begins to deal with his pain in the loss of his brother. Towards the end of the movie, the brother finds out that his friend whom me met in the hospital has just commit suicide. The brother takes off down the street in the middle of the night, finds a payphone and call his therapist and says that he needs to speak to him now.
The boy and therapist enters the office while the boy hysterically yells about his friend and that it reminds him of his brother. The therapist pushes him a bit farther with questions about whose fault it was. The boy then redirects his anger towards the therapist as if her were the brother and says "you should've held on! why did you let go?!" The therapist answers back, "because I got tired."
The boy begins to break down in tears, crying "I'm so sorry, its all my fault."
The therapist asks, "what did you do wrong?"
The boy answers, still crying hysterically, "I don't know.."
The therapist replies, "Yes you do. You held on."
While watching this movie in my class at school, I had to leave the room. I went to the bathroom and I just cried. I let myself cry into my hands as I remembered my fathers death. I felt it was all my fault that I couldn't save him. I tried so hard to make him happy and to help as best I could. My dad didn't really have any friends and couldn't work because he was so sick for so long. I wanted to be the one who could make him happy. I hated to see him suffer so much and feel so alone. He wanted me to come live with him and be his caretaker. He would call me up in the middle of the night when I was 12 years old, saying he needed to go to the hospital. He would always tell me about how he wanted to buy some property in Eastern Washington and have chickens and ducks and cows and to live off the land and have no one bother him except his girls. My sister and I. We were his world.
I loved my dad so much but I couldn't go with him to his own healing. His own departure. I felt so much guilt for wanting to enjoy my life while he sufferred alone for so long. That he loved me so much and I couldn't return it the way he wanted. I have so much guilt. I just cried and cried. I'm crying now as I type this.
My dad loved me so much. This I must remember. It's not my fault that he couldn't get better.
I will choose to focus on the good memories about my dad. I loved my dad so much for who he used to be before he got sick.
I think that is who he would want me to remember:
When we were kids, my dad would pick us up in his truck and drive us back to his house and he would say, "Whose daddy's girls"
"We are!", we would answer back.
My dad would cook us dinner every night that we were there, and a lot of the time it would be trout or salmon; deer or rabbit that he had killed while he was out hunting or fishing. He would take us to the 7Eleven every before or after dinner to pick out an ice cream bar to eat for dessert.
I remember celebrating aChristmas visit with him and him surprising us with each a giant pillow to sit on in front of the TV, as to watch TV with him.
I remember in the summer him taking us down to the lake to swim and play on the beach and coming back to the house and playing wiffle ball with a plastic bat and baseball in the driveway.
I have a lot of good childhood memories of my dad and how much he wanted to be a good father. He knew that he made a lot of mistakes while he was with my mom, and while growing up. But he wanted to fix it with us. He loved us more than anything. And he told us that.
My dad was probably one of the funniest people you would meet. He did have a good heart and wanted to help people. He knew what it was like to struggle and accepted his wrongs. My dad had a good heart. And I love him for who he was and how much he loved me.
When I think of that child I used to be in relation to my dad. Carefree and having fun, that is who I want to be. I have been living life in such a way that I am still trying to save my dad through other people. And I hear in my mind, "You have to let him go Holli."
I chose not to go with my dad emotionally when he started to go down hill. When he began drinking more and wanting more from me. I chose not to follow him. And that is the guilt that I have lived with but that is not my fault. I did nothing wrong. "You held on."
I held onto my own life and well-being instead of being sucked down with him.
The fun loving dad that always wanted me to be happy and to laugh with him. That was the dad that I loved and who he truly wanted to be.
I'll always love you dad. I miss you.
Holli
Something I experienced and came witness to recently, was while I was watching the movie, "Ordinary People." I had a time of great healing and realization. The movie is about a husband and wife and their son, of whom the eldest son and brother, dies in a boating accident. The younger brother was holding his brothers hand across the upturned boat while the waves were crashing and the wind and the rain were blowing. The older brother grew tired and let go and drowned.
The younger brother in the movie, struggles with PTSD and attempts suicide but is unsuccessful. The mom resents her younger teenage son for living when the eldest died. And the dad, feels caught in the middle of the two, overwhelmed with guilt on not being able to solve either problems.
The younger brother begins to see a therapist and begins to deal with his pain in the loss of his brother. Towards the end of the movie, the brother finds out that his friend whom me met in the hospital has just commit suicide. The brother takes off down the street in the middle of the night, finds a payphone and call his therapist and says that he needs to speak to him now.
The boy and therapist enters the office while the boy hysterically yells about his friend and that it reminds him of his brother. The therapist pushes him a bit farther with questions about whose fault it was. The boy then redirects his anger towards the therapist as if her were the brother and says "you should've held on! why did you let go?!" The therapist answers back, "because I got tired."
The boy begins to break down in tears, crying "I'm so sorry, its all my fault."
The therapist asks, "what did you do wrong?"
The boy answers, still crying hysterically, "I don't know.."
The therapist replies, "Yes you do. You held on."
While watching this movie in my class at school, I had to leave the room. I went to the bathroom and I just cried. I let myself cry into my hands as I remembered my fathers death. I felt it was all my fault that I couldn't save him. I tried so hard to make him happy and to help as best I could. My dad didn't really have any friends and couldn't work because he was so sick for so long. I wanted to be the one who could make him happy. I hated to see him suffer so much and feel so alone. He wanted me to come live with him and be his caretaker. He would call me up in the middle of the night when I was 12 years old, saying he needed to go to the hospital. He would always tell me about how he wanted to buy some property in Eastern Washington and have chickens and ducks and cows and to live off the land and have no one bother him except his girls. My sister and I. We were his world.
I loved my dad so much but I couldn't go with him to his own healing. His own departure. I felt so much guilt for wanting to enjoy my life while he sufferred alone for so long. That he loved me so much and I couldn't return it the way he wanted. I have so much guilt. I just cried and cried. I'm crying now as I type this.
My dad loved me so much. This I must remember. It's not my fault that he couldn't get better.
I will choose to focus on the good memories about my dad. I loved my dad so much for who he used to be before he got sick.
I think that is who he would want me to remember:
When we were kids, my dad would pick us up in his truck and drive us back to his house and he would say, "Whose daddy's girls"
"We are!", we would answer back.
My dad would cook us dinner every night that we were there, and a lot of the time it would be trout or salmon; deer or rabbit that he had killed while he was out hunting or fishing. He would take us to the 7Eleven every before or after dinner to pick out an ice cream bar to eat for dessert.
I remember celebrating aChristmas visit with him and him surprising us with each a giant pillow to sit on in front of the TV, as to watch TV with him.
I remember in the summer him taking us down to the lake to swim and play on the beach and coming back to the house and playing wiffle ball with a plastic bat and baseball in the driveway.
I have a lot of good childhood memories of my dad and how much he wanted to be a good father. He knew that he made a lot of mistakes while he was with my mom, and while growing up. But he wanted to fix it with us. He loved us more than anything. And he told us that.
My dad was probably one of the funniest people you would meet. He did have a good heart and wanted to help people. He knew what it was like to struggle and accepted his wrongs. My dad had a good heart. And I love him for who he was and how much he loved me.
When I think of that child I used to be in relation to my dad. Carefree and having fun, that is who I want to be. I have been living life in such a way that I am still trying to save my dad through other people. And I hear in my mind, "You have to let him go Holli."
I chose not to go with my dad emotionally when he started to go down hill. When he began drinking more and wanting more from me. I chose not to follow him. And that is the guilt that I have lived with but that is not my fault. I did nothing wrong. "You held on."
I held onto my own life and well-being instead of being sucked down with him.
The fun loving dad that always wanted me to be happy and to laugh with him. That was the dad that I loved and who he truly wanted to be.
I'll always love you dad. I miss you.
Holli
Tuesday, September 24, 2013
Flavors of wrong
Life is a constant relearning of ourselves and accepting that all of us on this planet are equally flawed.
“We’re all seeking that special person who is right for us. But if you’ve been through enough relationships, you begin to suspect there’s no right person, just different flavors of wrong. Why is this? Because you yourself are wrong in some way, and you seek out partners who are wrong in some complementary way. But it takes a lot of living to grow fully into your own wrongness. And it isn’t until you finally run up against your deepest demons, your unsolvable problems—the ones that make you truly who you are—that we’re ready to find a lifelong mate. Only then do you finally know what you’re looking for. You’re looking for the wrong person. But not just any wrong person: the right wrong person—someone you lovingly gaze upon and think, “This is the problem I want to have.”
I will find that special person who is wrong for me in just the right way.
Let our scars fall in love.”
― Galway Kinnell
Friday, July 26, 2013
Bears, Bugs, and GOATS! oh my!
I drove to Port Angeles feeling excited and proud of myself on the adventure I had claimed. One or two nights in the woods, alone.
I reached the Wilderness Information Center (WIC) and parked my car in the lot, prepared to await morning and purchase my pass and bear canister.
I unpacked my sleeping bad and Pema Chodron's book on 'How to Meditate' and prepared to sleep in the back seat of my car. I glanced at the street lights and the darker unlit lots near the forests edge. I felt I was in good company near the lights and decided that it was a good enough place to sleep.
I climbed into the backseat of my car and almost immediately fell asleep. Exhausted from the long drive and my busy day of appointments and tying up loose ends in preparing to make it out for tonight.
When 6:30am finallay arrived, I climbed out of my car and stretched my legs. Still groggy from my multiple awakenings, I began to think I may have slept better if I pitched my tent in the grass near the forests' edge. But I shook my head and decided to climb back into my car and doze in and out of sleep until 8:30am arrived and I could walk into the WIC and take care of buisness.
When 8:30 finally did arrive, I awoke to people already parked in the lot and anxiously waiting for the WIC to unlock their doors. I was surprised to see that being outside had become so popular.
When I went inside I spoke to a ranger that had informed me that I had bought the wrong pass and that I could purchase a one night pass and that he needed to know which campsite I was going to stay and for how many nights. I was surprised that backpacking had become more like a family campground, but was still determined to hike to a camping spot by myself.
"Are you going by yourself or in a group?" asked the Ranger.
"By myself." I said, awaiting his thoughts on the matter.
He seemed more or less un-phased by my reply but wanting to make sure I knew what I was doing.
He showed me my route on my map and checked me out a bear tin. He wished me a good time and I felt confident as I left the WIC.
Back into my car and dressed to hike, I followed the Rangers direction on how to get to the trail head. I was surprised to see that the roads were paved all the way through and had wished had enough time and swim wear to jump into Lake Crescent, that reflected an iridescent blue.
I was happy.
I felt energized and alive to be subjected to such beauty.
When I reached my trail, I decided it would be better to not accidentally drop my keys in the woods somewhere so I stashed them on an unknown car part near my tire. I threw my bag onto my back and headed down the trail.
I smiled to myself as I thought of how proud I was to be back outside with the trees and the dirt that lifted off the ground when I walked.
The smell of pine sung around me like a parade welcoming me back into the forest.
I came to Sol Duc falls and remembered a friend had told me to take pictures so I snapped a couple and decided to move through and find my trail. I walked through the nearby campsite and found a deer trail and walked that about 20ft when I realized there were two other trails that looked equally worn, if at all. I decided to walk back and see if I missed the trail. I pulled out my map and stared at it a while before I remembered that I left my park pass in the car.
I asked myself if they would even check for it.
I decided it wasn't worth the risk for only being a mile in and wanting to start out on the right foot (haha get it?)
I hurried back tomy car, grabbed my hidden keys, got the pass, tied it on my backpack, hid my keys again and headed back down the trail.
"Did we just pass you going the other way?"
"Yes, I forgot my pass in my car."
I speed by them, eager to find my trail head. An hour had already slipped by and I wanted to get a move on.
I returned back to the place I left and opened up my map. I decided that the trail leading the other direction must be the right one, so I happily started hiking up the hill thinking about what kind of scenery awaitedme.
Before to long I ran into another sign pointing to Deer Lake and one pointing the other direction: Sol Duc Resort.
I took out my map.These lead in the opposite direction of the trail I wanted.
I returned back to my spot by the falls and opened up my map once again; thinking the Ranger may have had his hat on too tight when he pointed out this trail for me to take.
"You got it all figured out?" A nice gentleman who was with whom I assumed was his son, asked me, peering into my map.
Eager for some help, "No, I can't find the trail head and I'm thinking it may be closed down. Do you know this area?"
"It's been a while since I have backpacked up here but let me see."
I informed him of where I had intended to be going and where I saw the 'closed for repairs' sign.
The man walked with me to the sign, and to my mistake, the trail continued just to the left of the sign. We exchanged smiles and I thanked him.
It had now been two hours since I arrived at the parking lot. A little frustrated that it had taken me this long, I decided to put it behind me and move forward. I hiked in my new boots which I knew I should have broken in first and with my pack that I was now remembering how it did not fit so great.
My excitement had started to shift down a couple notches as I began to count my missed goals and question my purpose of this trip.
My mind wandered aimlessly through the accounts of my day and my goals of this adventure. Why did I want to camp alone? I felt my mind begin to battle as I was frustrated with only being able to spend one night out and how long it had taken me to find the trail. I felt my pride twinge at these facts and then move away.
I trudged up and up, badgering myself with endless questions. When was I going to reach my campsite? Did it matter? Of course it matters! Why can't you enjoy the moment? What does that mean?! What was I going to do when I got there? Do you really want to do this?
Question after question as my legs grew more and more tired. I thought of the author of the book I was reading. She did this for 2 months by herself, and I am struggling with one night. I felt somewhat betrayed by my endeavor and that I had already failed.
Three and a half hours later I finally reached a clearing, too tired to climb much more, I decided to set up camp.
I unpacked my tent and unrolled my thermarest and sleeping bag.
Exhausted, I fell onto my bed and slept for an hour. When I awoke I decided that I should eat something. Not feeling hungry at all but knowing it was better to eat now then wake up hungry later. I grabbed my bear tin and walked across the trail and onto a large rock where I set up my stove and ate macaroni and cheese. I thought about my year in Explore and how we feasted on our left over freeze dried meals the last night out. I wished I had someone there to share my meal with.
I swatted the bugs in the air and pictured how it would be funny to see someone like me, alone, getting so angry at bugs. I chuckled to myself as I swatted more angrily at them.
When I finished my meal, I rinsed my dishes in the creek and enclosed my bear tin and left it there on the rock I ate on. I walked back over to my tent and climbed back into bed. My shoulders ached from the weight of my bag and my legs were sore from the amount of climbing I did. I slowly drifted to sleep.
I awoke to the sound of a four legged animal galavanting through my camp. My mind went immediately to a bear. Having never camped in the park before, I decided if I lay there motionless it would move on and leave me alone. I heard several others come galloping through. My heart began to speed up.
'Do bears travel in packs?' I thought, "Only if they have a cub?' 'SHIT.'
If there was a cub, I knew I was in trouble.
I heard one of them begin to tear into a bush near by and then another into a patch of somehing near my tent.
'SHIT,SHIT,SHIT,SHIT,SHIT'
I could hear it's breath on my tent as it started to paw at it.
'Please God, pleeeease.'
I remembered that bears are more afraid of you then you are of them so I decided if I made some noise maybe I could alert it that there is something in this tent. The choice seemed better than having it tear into me..
I sat up and peered through the mesh of my fly-less tent, to find a white faced animal catch my eye and run off.
'White bears? They're white? I thought they only lived up north?!'
I peered through the mesh long enough for my wits to come about me that there were no 'white bears' in this area...
'Not deer...Goats!' As one turned to the side I saw its long goat body and horns unraveling through the top of his head.
But my fear was not done yet. 'What were they smelling that would make them paw at my tent? Was a bear going to come sniff my tent to? Why aren't they finding my bear tin?'
I became angry that the forest service wouldn't let me hang a bear bag away from my tent now, and I became angry that perhaps someone dumped their leftover lunch somewhere onto my campground.
Interested now, I watched to goats from my tent run back and forth from one spot to the next. They didn't seem to be in a hurry to go any time soon.
I unzipped my tent and stood barefoot on the ground.
I clapped my hands and held my arms up in the air, "Hey goats! Come on! get outta here!"
The one goat looked up at me from the cherished goat spot and then back down. Totally un-impressed by my arm waving and yelling. I thought about putting a little more movement into my goat dance but noticed two horns coming out of the head once again. I decided then to go back to bed and wait for the goats to leave.
I eventually fell back asleep and decided that bears were too smart to hang around with goats.
When I awoke, my head ached and my stomach felt bloated and stiff.
'Damn carbs', I thought to myself. I fantasized about orange juice and apples.
I realized I should probably drink some water and remembered I was running low. I reached for my sweet water and read the label regarding an expiration date. It had been three years since I bought the stuff. I remembered my iodine tablets and opened one. Powder dusted the ground. I guess I should have checked those things before I left. My pride too another hit.
I decided I would then just pack up all my belongings and hike out. Nauseous and migraine induced, I didn't appeal to the decision much, if at all.
When I gathered up my things and lathered in bug spray, I took a couple final pictures, looking for one a future painting might induce.
I then hoisted on my pack and began my trek down the mountain.
Once again the badgering kicked in. I felt like I had failed. I didn't make it as far as I wanted, it took me forever to find the trail head, I was only able to spend one night, I didn't have enough water, and goats scared the living day lights out of me! I had failed this trip.
I was on the bridge of tears as I was thinking about what people would think after I told them this story when I became aware. 'What would people think'? My whole trek up this mountain I was thinking about what other people wanted to hear rather than what I wanted. What did I want out of this trip? A story, and I got it.
As I mentally stepped back from my badgering march of thoughts, I realized that there is nothing wrong with my experience because its MINE.
People can say and think what they want but the experience was still mine. My life can only be lived by and through me. No one else can feel the way I feel and think the way I think. I am Unique and Enough.
With this moment of awareness I walked to the edge of a switchback and thanked God.
I felt like everything had gone wrong, and here given to me was the awareness that I had set out to receive. I was reminded of an analogy a friend gave me about holding things with an open hand.
I cannot make a bird come and land into my hand, but if I hold it there palm open, it may choose to. I cannot make anything come my way. I may hope for it, but that is all. I could not make myself grasp the awareness of being enough, but once I let go of trying to be, I could see that I was.
How beautiful to have choices. I have the choice of how I want to live my life and how andwho I want to love. The same goes that the people who love me, love me because they choose, not because they have to. How blessed I am.
I feel as though this trip appeared chaotic, I stumbled upon what I was searching for. The beauty in my true self..
If you had read this far, I hope you have enjoyed this writing and have found some inspiration.
Love and Peace to you my friend.
Holli
oh and in case you were wondering, goats like salt. I figured it was the sweat I left on my backpack which was pressed up against the side of tent where it was digging. Stupid goats...
I reached the Wilderness Information Center (WIC) and parked my car in the lot, prepared to await morning and purchase my pass and bear canister.
I unpacked my sleeping bad and Pema Chodron's book on 'How to Meditate' and prepared to sleep in the back seat of my car. I glanced at the street lights and the darker unlit lots near the forests edge. I felt I was in good company near the lights and decided that it was a good enough place to sleep.
I climbed into the backseat of my car and almost immediately fell asleep. Exhausted from the long drive and my busy day of appointments and tying up loose ends in preparing to make it out for tonight.
When 6:30am finallay arrived, I climbed out of my car and stretched my legs. Still groggy from my multiple awakenings, I began to think I may have slept better if I pitched my tent in the grass near the forests' edge. But I shook my head and decided to climb back into my car and doze in and out of sleep until 8:30am arrived and I could walk into the WIC and take care of buisness.
When 8:30 finally did arrive, I awoke to people already parked in the lot and anxiously waiting for the WIC to unlock their doors. I was surprised to see that being outside had become so popular.
When I went inside I spoke to a ranger that had informed me that I had bought the wrong pass and that I could purchase a one night pass and that he needed to know which campsite I was going to stay and for how many nights. I was surprised that backpacking had become more like a family campground, but was still determined to hike to a camping spot by myself.
"Are you going by yourself or in a group?" asked the Ranger.
"By myself." I said, awaiting his thoughts on the matter.
He seemed more or less un-phased by my reply but wanting to make sure I knew what I was doing.
He showed me my route on my map and checked me out a bear tin. He wished me a good time and I felt confident as I left the WIC.
Back into my car and dressed to hike, I followed the Rangers direction on how to get to the trail head. I was surprised to see that the roads were paved all the way through and had wished had enough time and swim wear to jump into Lake Crescent, that reflected an iridescent blue.
I was happy.
I felt energized and alive to be subjected to such beauty.
When I reached my trail, I decided it would be better to not accidentally drop my keys in the woods somewhere so I stashed them on an unknown car part near my tire. I threw my bag onto my back and headed down the trail.
I smiled to myself as I thought of how proud I was to be back outside with the trees and the dirt that lifted off the ground when I walked.
The smell of pine sung around me like a parade welcoming me back into the forest.
I came to Sol Duc falls and remembered a friend had told me to take pictures so I snapped a couple and decided to move through and find my trail. I walked through the nearby campsite and found a deer trail and walked that about 20ft when I realized there were two other trails that looked equally worn, if at all. I decided to walk back and see if I missed the trail. I pulled out my map and stared at it a while before I remembered that I left my park pass in the car.
I asked myself if they would even check for it.
I decided it wasn't worth the risk for only being a mile in and wanting to start out on the right foot (haha get it?)
I hurried back tomy car, grabbed my hidden keys, got the pass, tied it on my backpack, hid my keys again and headed back down the trail.
"Did we just pass you going the other way?"
"Yes, I forgot my pass in my car."
I speed by them, eager to find my trail head. An hour had already slipped by and I wanted to get a move on.
I returned back to the place I left and opened up my map. I decided that the trail leading the other direction must be the right one, so I happily started hiking up the hill thinking about what kind of scenery awaitedme.
Before to long I ran into another sign pointing to Deer Lake and one pointing the other direction: Sol Duc Resort.
I took out my map.These lead in the opposite direction of the trail I wanted.
I returned back to my spot by the falls and opened up my map once again; thinking the Ranger may have had his hat on too tight when he pointed out this trail for me to take.
"You got it all figured out?" A nice gentleman who was with whom I assumed was his son, asked me, peering into my map.
Eager for some help, "No, I can't find the trail head and I'm thinking it may be closed down. Do you know this area?"
"It's been a while since I have backpacked up here but let me see."
I informed him of where I had intended to be going and where I saw the 'closed for repairs' sign.
The man walked with me to the sign, and to my mistake, the trail continued just to the left of the sign. We exchanged smiles and I thanked him.
It had now been two hours since I arrived at the parking lot. A little frustrated that it had taken me this long, I decided to put it behind me and move forward. I hiked in my new boots which I knew I should have broken in first and with my pack that I was now remembering how it did not fit so great.
My excitement had started to shift down a couple notches as I began to count my missed goals and question my purpose of this trip.
My mind wandered aimlessly through the accounts of my day and my goals of this adventure. Why did I want to camp alone? I felt my mind begin to battle as I was frustrated with only being able to spend one night out and how long it had taken me to find the trail. I felt my pride twinge at these facts and then move away.
I trudged up and up, badgering myself with endless questions. When was I going to reach my campsite? Did it matter? Of course it matters! Why can't you enjoy the moment? What does that mean?! What was I going to do when I got there? Do you really want to do this?
Question after question as my legs grew more and more tired. I thought of the author of the book I was reading. She did this for 2 months by herself, and I am struggling with one night. I felt somewhat betrayed by my endeavor and that I had already failed.
Three and a half hours later I finally reached a clearing, too tired to climb much more, I decided to set up camp.
I unpacked my tent and unrolled my thermarest and sleeping bag.
Exhausted, I fell onto my bed and slept for an hour. When I awoke I decided that I should eat something. Not feeling hungry at all but knowing it was better to eat now then wake up hungry later. I grabbed my bear tin and walked across the trail and onto a large rock where I set up my stove and ate macaroni and cheese. I thought about my year in Explore and how we feasted on our left over freeze dried meals the last night out. I wished I had someone there to share my meal with.
I swatted the bugs in the air and pictured how it would be funny to see someone like me, alone, getting so angry at bugs. I chuckled to myself as I swatted more angrily at them.
When I finished my meal, I rinsed my dishes in the creek and enclosed my bear tin and left it there on the rock I ate on. I walked back over to my tent and climbed back into bed. My shoulders ached from the weight of my bag and my legs were sore from the amount of climbing I did. I slowly drifted to sleep.
I awoke to the sound of a four legged animal galavanting through my camp. My mind went immediately to a bear. Having never camped in the park before, I decided if I lay there motionless it would move on and leave me alone. I heard several others come galloping through. My heart began to speed up.
'Do bears travel in packs?' I thought, "Only if they have a cub?' 'SHIT.'
If there was a cub, I knew I was in trouble.
I heard one of them begin to tear into a bush near by and then another into a patch of somehing near my tent.
'SHIT,SHIT,SHIT,SHIT,SHIT'
I could hear it's breath on my tent as it started to paw at it.
'Please God, pleeeease.'
I remembered that bears are more afraid of you then you are of them so I decided if I made some noise maybe I could alert it that there is something in this tent. The choice seemed better than having it tear into me..
I sat up and peered through the mesh of my fly-less tent, to find a white faced animal catch my eye and run off.
'White bears? They're white? I thought they only lived up north?!'
I peered through the mesh long enough for my wits to come about me that there were no 'white bears' in this area...
'Not deer...Goats!' As one turned to the side I saw its long goat body and horns unraveling through the top of his head.
But my fear was not done yet. 'What were they smelling that would make them paw at my tent? Was a bear going to come sniff my tent to? Why aren't they finding my bear tin?'
I became angry that the forest service wouldn't let me hang a bear bag away from my tent now, and I became angry that perhaps someone dumped their leftover lunch somewhere onto my campground.
Interested now, I watched to goats from my tent run back and forth from one spot to the next. They didn't seem to be in a hurry to go any time soon.
I unzipped my tent and stood barefoot on the ground.
I clapped my hands and held my arms up in the air, "Hey goats! Come on! get outta here!"
The one goat looked up at me from the cherished goat spot and then back down. Totally un-impressed by my arm waving and yelling. I thought about putting a little more movement into my goat dance but noticed two horns coming out of the head once again. I decided then to go back to bed and wait for the goats to leave.
I eventually fell back asleep and decided that bears were too smart to hang around with goats.
When I awoke, my head ached and my stomach felt bloated and stiff.
'Damn carbs', I thought to myself. I fantasized about orange juice and apples.
I realized I should probably drink some water and remembered I was running low. I reached for my sweet water and read the label regarding an expiration date. It had been three years since I bought the stuff. I remembered my iodine tablets and opened one. Powder dusted the ground. I guess I should have checked those things before I left. My pride too another hit.
I decided I would then just pack up all my belongings and hike out. Nauseous and migraine induced, I didn't appeal to the decision much, if at all.
When I gathered up my things and lathered in bug spray, I took a couple final pictures, looking for one a future painting might induce.
I then hoisted on my pack and began my trek down the mountain.
Once again the badgering kicked in. I felt like I had failed. I didn't make it as far as I wanted, it took me forever to find the trail head, I was only able to spend one night, I didn't have enough water, and goats scared the living day lights out of me! I had failed this trip.
I was on the bridge of tears as I was thinking about what people would think after I told them this story when I became aware. 'What would people think'? My whole trek up this mountain I was thinking about what other people wanted to hear rather than what I wanted. What did I want out of this trip? A story, and I got it.
As I mentally stepped back from my badgering march of thoughts, I realized that there is nothing wrong with my experience because its MINE.
People can say and think what they want but the experience was still mine. My life can only be lived by and through me. No one else can feel the way I feel and think the way I think. I am Unique and Enough.
With this moment of awareness I walked to the edge of a switchback and thanked God.
I felt like everything had gone wrong, and here given to me was the awareness that I had set out to receive. I was reminded of an analogy a friend gave me about holding things with an open hand.
I cannot make a bird come and land into my hand, but if I hold it there palm open, it may choose to. I cannot make anything come my way. I may hope for it, but that is all. I could not make myself grasp the awareness of being enough, but once I let go of trying to be, I could see that I was.
How beautiful to have choices. I have the choice of how I want to live my life and how andwho I want to love. The same goes that the people who love me, love me because they choose, not because they have to. How blessed I am.
I feel as though this trip appeared chaotic, I stumbled upon what I was searching for. The beauty in my true self..
If you had read this far, I hope you have enjoyed this writing and have found some inspiration.
Love and Peace to you my friend.
Holli
oh and in case you were wondering, goats like salt. I figured it was the sweat I left on my backpack which was pressed up against the side of tent where it was digging. Stupid goats...
Friday, July 5, 2013
Maitri
I feel like my words are dripping this morning. And yet am not sure how to form them yet.
I feel a lot like God has been speaking to me lately. My heart has been opening more and more as I have been in my present relationship. I have been realizing how selfish I can be which makes me sad and longing to be a more loving person to myself and others. It never feels good to learn these things about yourself and yet I am empowered knowing that I have the ability to change it and become more
Christ like.
I have also been thinking a lot about my Explore year and my time in Montana. This weather tends to have that affect on me some. However, as I look back and remember how much I had grown and how much love was shown between all of us. When you live in such a tight knit community that you see everyday, it is difficult to escape yourself. And perhaps that is part of the reason I left, in part in realizing there were my past demons that I did not know of until I spoke with a Therapist.
I am working more and more to be content with who I am and love myself and others regardless as to my expectation I may hold against myself and the people in my life.
I believe this may be why I am so attracted to Bhuddism. It speaks to me about things like Maitri; Loving kindness towards oneself. I truly believe that if you can love yourself with honesty and curiosity, it will flow into lives of others. However, I firmly believe that giving of yourself can help you see more of your self. The key is, is that we can always learn from our present moment and walk away with love.
This is beyond difficult for me as my ideals become my obstacles and I forget that my opportunity to love is 'now' and not when I have all the right tools within reach.
The life I long for is now and in my future and that success lies within an open palm and not a clenched hand.
The memories I adore the most is when I was alive in that present moment, and I find myself constantly reaching for that exact time, when really, I can create another one by simply resting in the one I'm in.
By all means, I have dreams and aspirations like everyone else, but I don't need to wait to begin working on them.
I read an excerpt of something I wrote during the time my dad was in the hopital in 2008 and it brought me hope of love and a reminder to Rest. Here it is
There's been a turn in my heart.
I visited my dad with my sister and nate on monday. He didn't look well, but I was prepared for that. He is very sick and continued to forget things while we were there. At one point while we were there he just began to cry. I felt like I was looking at a child and not a full grown man, and my heart ached for him. My heart ached for him because I could tell how much he just wanted to be loved, how much he just needed someone to love him, and I am not sure if he will ever see how to get that for himself. I can see how he wanted me to take care of him so much when I was younger. It only hurts me that he cannot seem to find the key to love himself. So all I can think of is, is to love him out of myself, no matter what; and still loving myself all the while.
On the way home from visiting my dad, I cried in the car with in front of my sister. I am not used to letting my sister see me cry nor letting her comfort me, but it felt like something I had to do. I found myself wishing that I were closer with her, closer with my dad, and closer to my mother. I wish we had all been closer together and there hadn't been so much pain to seperate us from the love. I realized through my tears that how precious time is. That the time I have right now is a gift and how it can slip so quickly through your fingers. I realized how much I have been running forward trying to catch up to the past. trying to catch my lost childhood, trying to makeup for lost time, and feelings of guilt and failure, when all I have right now is the present. In realizing this, I have decided to make the most of the time, and just focus on right here, right now. And when I feel change calling I will listen and give wisdom to it.
I am going to set up a care conference with my dad, so I know how to make the most of my time.
I am also going to stop worrying about school at the moment and think about what I would like to do right now. And just let things fall into place. School is not going anywhere.
But I might be :)
What is that verse about worrying? Do not worry about tomorrow because there is enough cares for today.
This is fitting.
love to you all and Merry Christmas.
Let the feeling of longing fill your heart, and see what it is you long for.
Luke 2: 8-12 There were sheepherders camping in the neighborhood. They had set night watches over their sheep. Suddenly, God's angel stood among them and God's glory blazed around them. They were terrified. The angel said, "Don't be afraid. I'm here to announce a great and joyful event that is meant for everybody, worldwide: A Savior has just been born in David's town, a Savior who is Messiah and Master. This is what you're to look for: a baby wrapped in a blanket and lying in a manger."
I feel a lot like God has been speaking to me lately. My heart has been opening more and more as I have been in my present relationship. I have been realizing how selfish I can be which makes me sad and longing to be a more loving person to myself and others. It never feels good to learn these things about yourself and yet I am empowered knowing that I have the ability to change it and become more
Christ like.
I have also been thinking a lot about my Explore year and my time in Montana. This weather tends to have that affect on me some. However, as I look back and remember how much I had grown and how much love was shown between all of us. When you live in such a tight knit community that you see everyday, it is difficult to escape yourself. And perhaps that is part of the reason I left, in part in realizing there were my past demons that I did not know of until I spoke with a Therapist.
I am working more and more to be content with who I am and love myself and others regardless as to my expectation I may hold against myself and the people in my life.
I believe this may be why I am so attracted to Bhuddism. It speaks to me about things like Maitri; Loving kindness towards oneself. I truly believe that if you can love yourself with honesty and curiosity, it will flow into lives of others. However, I firmly believe that giving of yourself can help you see more of your self. The key is, is that we can always learn from our present moment and walk away with love.
This is beyond difficult for me as my ideals become my obstacles and I forget that my opportunity to love is 'now' and not when I have all the right tools within reach.
The life I long for is now and in my future and that success lies within an open palm and not a clenched hand.
The memories I adore the most is when I was alive in that present moment, and I find myself constantly reaching for that exact time, when really, I can create another one by simply resting in the one I'm in.
By all means, I have dreams and aspirations like everyone else, but I don't need to wait to begin working on them.
I read an excerpt of something I wrote during the time my dad was in the hopital in 2008 and it brought me hope of love and a reminder to Rest. Here it is
There's been a turn in my heart.
I visited my dad with my sister and nate on monday. He didn't look well, but I was prepared for that. He is very sick and continued to forget things while we were there. At one point while we were there he just began to cry. I felt like I was looking at a child and not a full grown man, and my heart ached for him. My heart ached for him because I could tell how much he just wanted to be loved, how much he just needed someone to love him, and I am not sure if he will ever see how to get that for himself. I can see how he wanted me to take care of him so much when I was younger. It only hurts me that he cannot seem to find the key to love himself. So all I can think of is, is to love him out of myself, no matter what; and still loving myself all the while.
On the way home from visiting my dad, I cried in the car with in front of my sister. I am not used to letting my sister see me cry nor letting her comfort me, but it felt like something I had to do. I found myself wishing that I were closer with her, closer with my dad, and closer to my mother. I wish we had all been closer together and there hadn't been so much pain to seperate us from the love. I realized through my tears that how precious time is. That the time I have right now is a gift and how it can slip so quickly through your fingers. I realized how much I have been running forward trying to catch up to the past. trying to catch my lost childhood, trying to makeup for lost time, and feelings of guilt and failure, when all I have right now is the present. In realizing this, I have decided to make the most of the time, and just focus on right here, right now. And when I feel change calling I will listen and give wisdom to it.
I am going to set up a care conference with my dad, so I know how to make the most of my time.
I am also going to stop worrying about school at the moment and think about what I would like to do right now. And just let things fall into place. School is not going anywhere.
But I might be :)
What is that verse about worrying? Do not worry about tomorrow because there is enough cares for today.
This is fitting.
love to you all and Merry Christmas.
Let the feeling of longing fill your heart, and see what it is you long for.
Luke 2: 8-12 There were sheepherders camping in the neighborhood. They had set night watches over their sheep. Suddenly, God's angel stood among them and God's glory blazed around them. They were terrified. The angel said, "Don't be afraid. I'm here to announce a great and joyful event that is meant for everybody, worldwide: A Savior has just been born in David's town, a Savior who is Messiah and Master. This is what you're to look for: a baby wrapped in a blanket and lying in a manger."
Sunday, June 9, 2013
Loving wisdom
Do you ever wonder when someone or something is going to wake you up? When you will be rescued from the thick fog you tread through?
I find my soul yearning in this question more often than not. And when I reveal to myself that it is me who is in my way, I become angry with myself and rendezvous back to where I started.
I think a good portion of this problem lies within my lack of patience with myself.
We are all followed by our past and there are plenty of times that I convince myself to run fast enough that it will not catch up. Well that's a lie friends.
I was reminded by a friend that healing only comes through befriending your past. Often times my pride takes me by the hand yelling behind us, "Try and catch us!" and I grasp her hand and ride that wave of rebellion until I crash hard on the sandy shores of my humble childhood to meet the girl that was once me.
It's hard to be with her because she is always crying. That is what my pride says. But there is another part of me that wants to be with my pride and the little girl. This part of me is my loving wisdom. I don't know where she comes from but she's always there, the difficult part is quieting myself long enough to hear her.
She walks with grace and peace, carrying only love. She's always willing to give love to me. She is beautiful and everything that I want to be. She is me.
She is me.
All that I chase and long for is in me.
I am perfect as I am.
Listen.
I find my soul yearning in this question more often than not. And when I reveal to myself that it is me who is in my way, I become angry with myself and rendezvous back to where I started.
I think a good portion of this problem lies within my lack of patience with myself.
We are all followed by our past and there are plenty of times that I convince myself to run fast enough that it will not catch up. Well that's a lie friends.
I was reminded by a friend that healing only comes through befriending your past. Often times my pride takes me by the hand yelling behind us, "Try and catch us!" and I grasp her hand and ride that wave of rebellion until I crash hard on the sandy shores of my humble childhood to meet the girl that was once me.
It's hard to be with her because she is always crying. That is what my pride says. But there is another part of me that wants to be with my pride and the little girl. This part of me is my loving wisdom. I don't know where she comes from but she's always there, the difficult part is quieting myself long enough to hear her.
She walks with grace and peace, carrying only love. She's always willing to give love to me. She is beautiful and everything that I want to be. She is me.
She is me.
All that I chase and long for is in me.
I am perfect as I am.
Listen.
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
"In these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die And where you invest your love, you invest your life"
"In these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die
And where you invest your love, you invest your life"
This lyric is from Mumford and Sons and it's called Awake my Soul.
Sometimes I forget that it's okay to be me. In fact, I hold my most powerful self when I am 'me.'
My teacher read to my class the '7 lovely logics.'
I am reminded of Pema Chodron.
"Learning how to be kind to ourselves is important. When we look into our own hearts and begin to discover what is confused and what is brilliant, what is bitter and what is sweet, it isn’t just ourselves that we’re discovering. We’re discovering the universe. When we discover the buddha that we are, we realize that everything and everyone is Buddha. We discover that everything is awake, and everyone is awake. Everything and everyone is precious and whole and good. When we regard thoughts and emotions with humor and openness, that’s how we perceive the universe."
(Comfortable with Uncertainty)
I know that I am a very sensitive person and that I can falter and wear more emotions on my sleeve than I would have liked but that is the life I have been given. It is my cross to bear and no one else's. This is my life to live and my choices. No one can control my happiness but me. I have to tell myself these things to remind myself.
I would like to leave this world knowing that the things I have experienced and learned have left a positive ripple in this story we all call life. That I may give birth to positive change. This is my mission. I am still figuring it out but I know that each day is an opportunity to learn and awaken my soul. I would like to learn to love myself a little more than I did the day before and be able to have the love pour out of myself and to others.
I think the most difficult thing for me to remember is something I learned when I was in college;
'Do not give the answer if they're are not asking the question.'
My desire to help can turn into what I think is a rescue situation and that person may not want to be rescued at all.
I can only save myself and that is what I need to stick with and let the Divine allow me to witness my impact on others, rather than trying to create it.
Yes.
As I write I realize that I want to create myself as indispensable in the eyes of others.
That is impossible.
I am only indispensable to myself and must realize that I may have the opportunity to taste the sweetness of answered prayers and my helpfulness in another's life. For I cannot make some one experience my own sense but I can share what I know when they ask the question.
It is such a prideful thing to think that I can change another.
The only person I can change is myself and hope to answer another.
I see what a gift it is now to be able to help another. To realize that in a sense I am being allowed to 'walk on holy ground.' However, in order walk I must remove my shoes of pride.
I feel I have been awakened in these moments. And I am thankful to share them with you.
Peace to you my friends
Holli
And where you invest your love, you invest your life"
This lyric is from Mumford and Sons and it's called Awake my Soul.
Sometimes I forget that it's okay to be me. In fact, I hold my most powerful self when I am 'me.'
My teacher read to my class the '7 lovely logics.'
7 Lovely LogicsThese all struck a strong chord within me. I love number 2 and number 4.
- Make peace with your past so it doesn’t spoil your present.
- What others think about you is none of your business.
- Time heals almost everything,give the time, some time.
- Don’t compare your life with other’s you have no idea what their journey is all about.
- No one is a reason of your happiness except yourself.
- Stop thinking too much its alright not to know all the answers.
- Smile, you don’t own all the problems of the world.
I am reminded of Pema Chodron.
"Learning how to be kind to ourselves is important. When we look into our own hearts and begin to discover what is confused and what is brilliant, what is bitter and what is sweet, it isn’t just ourselves that we’re discovering. We’re discovering the universe. When we discover the buddha that we are, we realize that everything and everyone is Buddha. We discover that everything is awake, and everyone is awake. Everything and everyone is precious and whole and good. When we regard thoughts and emotions with humor and openness, that’s how we perceive the universe."
(Comfortable with Uncertainty)
I know that I am a very sensitive person and that I can falter and wear more emotions on my sleeve than I would have liked but that is the life I have been given. It is my cross to bear and no one else's. This is my life to live and my choices. No one can control my happiness but me. I have to tell myself these things to remind myself.
I would like to leave this world knowing that the things I have experienced and learned have left a positive ripple in this story we all call life. That I may give birth to positive change. This is my mission. I am still figuring it out but I know that each day is an opportunity to learn and awaken my soul. I would like to learn to love myself a little more than I did the day before and be able to have the love pour out of myself and to others.
I think the most difficult thing for me to remember is something I learned when I was in college;
'Do not give the answer if they're are not asking the question.'
My desire to help can turn into what I think is a rescue situation and that person may not want to be rescued at all.
I can only save myself and that is what I need to stick with and let the Divine allow me to witness my impact on others, rather than trying to create it.
Yes.
As I write I realize that I want to create myself as indispensable in the eyes of others.
That is impossible.
I am only indispensable to myself and must realize that I may have the opportunity to taste the sweetness of answered prayers and my helpfulness in another's life. For I cannot make some one experience my own sense but I can share what I know when they ask the question.
It is such a prideful thing to think that I can change another.
The only person I can change is myself and hope to answer another.
I see what a gift it is now to be able to help another. To realize that in a sense I am being allowed to 'walk on holy ground.' However, in order walk I must remove my shoes of pride.
I feel I have been awakened in these moments. And I am thankful to share them with you.
Peace to you my friends
Holli
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Awareness
This song seems fairly relevant to how I am feeling and processing.
I am learning much about living my own life in addition to what it means to be in an intimate relationship with another.
I have discovered that through my life at bible college I adopted this understanding that my self worth should be non existent in order to be "holy as your heavenly father is holy." And there is still this growth of expectancy that lies inside of me, informing me that in order to nurture the expansion of love in myself and others, I must bury the very essence of myself.
All of the repeating "I die to myself to live as Christ" I understood as not allowing myself to be loved.
However, love will find a way.
It is a mystery that love is a necessity as it is not something that we can quite grasp with our senses in order to comprehend as one of our most basic life source.
I find that without the knowledge of love and what it means in my own individual life, it comes out in ways that are not always healthy.
I truly believe that this is a human capacity and the cause of most incidents of violence and emotional pain.
I find that the beautiful mess that life creates begins in the dangerous awe of relationships and through introspection and meditation we can listen to what it is our soul is looking for.
I don't think we ever 'arrive' with this skill but we get closer to what it is we are looking for and the gravity that pulls us in the opposite direction seems to lessen it's force.
I am learning that the way I love is perfectly okay and that no one has the right to tell me different. I love myself and who I am and I don't have to change but rather change when I want to.
I can cry as much as I want to, love as deeply as I want to, and real change only occurs when the desire glows within you.
The real mystery is that I will never know what type of change will begin in me but I am always thankful for the awareness.
peace
Wednesday, December 26, 2012
Christmas and Resolutions
Walking to my favorite coffee shop with cigarette in hand and listening to the church play Joy to the world through their speakers.
I paused for a moment to think of American's celebration of Christmas. It still strikes me as odd that we close down many stores for Christmas day but we do nothing for other religious holidays.
I am learning to not place my hope in things that do not last and rather accept things the way they are. The only constant we have is change itself.
I remember as a child being so excited for Christmas day and it has occurred to me that those things must be let go of in order to remain at peace. To not put my hope in things to be the way they once were or what I would like them to be but accept things the way they are.
Do not misunderstand me. I am a person who has often tried to change people or things the way 'I think' they should be (which I recognize as a human tendency); but I have found that there is less suffering in accepting that I cannot change people or even certain 'things' and that 'my way' does not necessarily mean 'better' but different.
However, I do deserve to live my life the way I want to but I may need to walk away from the familiar in order to do so. Which is fearsome yet rewarding.
I have walked through several valleys and find that I always arrive on the peak, once I am through.
I am thankful.
As I approach 2013 I look forward to welcoming and celebrating a new chapter. Health and Happiness is my theme as I set goals and strategies to accomplish the things I want. I recognize that I have one life to live and that if there are things I want to do before I die, no one is going to hand them to me and I must do them myself.
I am inspired by the many strong women in my life who have stepped outside of the historical traditional mindset of our culture's 'woman' and are following their hearts desire.
I want to be a woman that shows strength in how I am created in my sex and my mind. There is no one else quite like me and I am going to live out loud.
This New Year I plan to focus on finishing school and working at wholefoods; bringing beauty and health into the world. I plan to practice my sketching; research and redefine beauty in my own way; quit smoking and loving my body in the practice of eating less processed foods and more organic fruits and vegetables in addition to making my muscles stronger to support my lifestyle and accomplish fitness goals such as running a race; Embracing all relationships, allowing my true beauty to be seen by others and honoring that.
These are the things I look forward to bathing myself with. I have many aspirations before I die but know that if I want to feel as if I have touched any of them I need to build a strategy and let myself be focused.
Thank you for sharing in this with me and if there are other ways in which you would like to share, don't hesitate to get in contact with me.
I send much love to you all and pray for you to see it.
Peace, Holli
I paused for a moment to think of American's celebration of Christmas. It still strikes me as odd that we close down many stores for Christmas day but we do nothing for other religious holidays.
I am learning to not place my hope in things that do not last and rather accept things the way they are. The only constant we have is change itself.
I remember as a child being so excited for Christmas day and it has occurred to me that those things must be let go of in order to remain at peace. To not put my hope in things to be the way they once were or what I would like them to be but accept things the way they are.
Do not misunderstand me. I am a person who has often tried to change people or things the way 'I think' they should be (which I recognize as a human tendency); but I have found that there is less suffering in accepting that I cannot change people or even certain 'things' and that 'my way' does not necessarily mean 'better' but different.
However, I do deserve to live my life the way I want to but I may need to walk away from the familiar in order to do so. Which is fearsome yet rewarding.
I have walked through several valleys and find that I always arrive on the peak, once I am through.
I am thankful.
As I approach 2013 I look forward to welcoming and celebrating a new chapter. Health and Happiness is my theme as I set goals and strategies to accomplish the things I want. I recognize that I have one life to live and that if there are things I want to do before I die, no one is going to hand them to me and I must do them myself.
I am inspired by the many strong women in my life who have stepped outside of the historical traditional mindset of our culture's 'woman' and are following their hearts desire.
I want to be a woman that shows strength in how I am created in my sex and my mind. There is no one else quite like me and I am going to live out loud.
This New Year I plan to focus on finishing school and working at wholefoods; bringing beauty and health into the world. I plan to practice my sketching; research and redefine beauty in my own way; quit smoking and loving my body in the practice of eating less processed foods and more organic fruits and vegetables in addition to making my muscles stronger to support my lifestyle and accomplish fitness goals such as running a race; Embracing all relationships, allowing my true beauty to be seen by others and honoring that.
These are the things I look forward to bathing myself with. I have many aspirations before I die but know that if I want to feel as if I have touched any of them I need to build a strategy and let myself be focused.
Thank you for sharing in this with me and if there are other ways in which you would like to share, don't hesitate to get in contact with me.
I send much love to you all and pray for you to see it.
Peace, Holli
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