peace and power

In the middle of Rock Band, perfecting our respective musical talents, at 8:02pm, we shut off the power for our own Earth Hour celebration. We turned off all the lights in the house, all the appliances, all the computers. We lit some candles and hopped naked and deliciously into bed; with our books and our smiles.

I felt peace settle on the house. I felt the stillness and the lack of noise. In the flickering candlelight, it seemed like the world was comfortable and easy.

In this calm place, I decided it was a good time to start my new Tolle book. A good time, when my own Ego was quiet(er) to read about attachment and identification and the suffering that we have when our Egos control our lives. A good time to meditate. To listen to my breathing. To reflect on my own Ego, the power that it has over me, and how it drives me to think, feel, respond, and react to the world.

Then I picked up my other book, Shantaram, and was assaulted with this statement. More about power, or the lack thereof. And this time, how people often compensate for that lack of power.

Gregory David Roberts wrote "I'd heard that laugh before, in another prison across the world. I knew it well. Cruelty is a kind of cowardice. Cruel laughter is the way cowards cry when they are not alone, and causing pain is how they grieve."

Finally, when I closed my books, and lay back on my pillow, feeling sedated and heavy with drowsiness, and light of spirit, I remembered reading another quotation earlier in the day. How we can make choices: to turn the lights off, to walk away, to listen to our Egos, to be aware of how we ARE, to feel anger, to hurt, to heal, to laugh, to play, to open our arms... And how those choices, in turn, create the journey we have in front of us.
"The trick is in what one emphasizes. We either make ourselves miserable, or we make ourselves strong. The amount of work is the same." ~Carlos Castenada, 1925-1998

Here's a toast to peace and to power. The path that each of them make take. And the choices we each make to find the right path for ourselves.

sunset

I had a dream last night with the most vivid sunset. It was huge, spread across the sky, in deep pinks and purples. I remember that I kept trying to peek around a building or a telephone pole, to actually see the sun. Because I wanted to know what color that orb would be to pain the sky like that. I couldn't get a view of it. I just saw the sky explode in this breathtaking color show. I remember being still and just watching the sky.

It's amazing what comes from my dreams. Just amazing. I often awake wondering where the vividness comes from. Where the colors and textures and scenarios stem from. It's no wonder that I have no retention for movie lines or song lyrics, or random tidbits of trivia. Good portions of my brain space are taken up by my dreams.

I looked up some of the symbolism in the Dream Moods Dictionary, and here's what I found:

Sunset
To see the sunset in your dream, indicates the end of a cycle or condition. It is a period of rest, renewal, and evaluation.

Purple
Purple is indicative of devotion, healing abilities, loving, kindness, and compassion. It is also the color of royalty, high rank, and dignity.

Pink
Pink represents love, joy, sweetness, happiness, affection, kindness. Being in love or healing through love is also implied with this color.

Hmmmm...

Happy Friday!

battle weary

I've been wanting to blog for a few days now, and I can't seem to think of something clever or powerful to describe. I've made a point of paying attention to things, to find the nuggets of an interesting story or amusing anecdote, to capture something in prose.

I haven't found any stories or scenarios, but being aware has made me realize that I am very cranky these days. I am impatient when I drive. I am quick to honk, to give someone the "Ah, give me a break, buddy" full hand gesture. I find I am anticipating that people are going to be rude and obnoxious. I catch myself muttering obscenities under my breath, interspersed with "Fuck You!" exclamations. I am edgy and uptight.

I've noticed this at work and home. My brows are furrowed, my body is tense. The angry switch got flipped on more times in the last week, than in the last year put together. I hear myself sigh deeply in annoyance.

What is going on?

I can't figure out where this frazzled me is coming from. I can't figure out why. Quite frankly, I don't like it. I don't feel generous, I don't feel free. I feel like my heart is squeezed into a tight little ball of bitterness. Like I'm a refugee from a battle of some magnitude, and I'm awash with righteous justification and indignation. My fuse is quick to ignite.

But I've not been in any battles.

I'm sleeping well. I'm eating very healthily. I feel refreshed in the mornings. I am exercising (sometimes). I start every day feeling open and generous. I go to bed at night with "Awaken the Buddha Within" and reflect on life. Work is going well. My sex life is great. I have time to read. I sleep peacefully.

Admittedly, my dreams have been very angry too. In them, I am consistently petulant and pouty. I am emotionally immature. I cause scenes. I get angry. I rage. I cry.

Why?

It's clear to me that I am trying to resolve something. In some deep recess of my subconscious, someone is pounding on a door, desperately trying to get it open. But I don't have that combination. I don't even know where to begin to look for a locksmith.

I've got a road trip ahead of me this weekend. I'm looking forward to seeing what comes up while I ponder the wide stretch of asphalt and sip coffee. While I hear the tires underneath me, and feel the sunshine on my face. I think there's an opportunity for me to pay attention to this noise and see what all the fuss is about. Let the road soothe the savage beast.

Assuming, I don't get into any fights along the way....

posting from the slopes

It's raining here, in Killington, Vermont. The fluffy flakes of snow that fell on Sunday night have morphed into a slushy, icy sludge. Today is not the day that I want to don my snowboarding gitch and head out on the slopes. It's wet and overcast. This afternoon, I'm content to curl up indoors, complete with a glass of red wine, and a few minutes in solitaire and peace... putting pen to paper, metaphorically, I want to try and capture the magic of the birthday surprise from last night.

"We arrived at 47 Lewis Rd. around 6:30pm. The lights in the house were on, and we could smell the sharp sting of a burning wood fire in the damp, thick air. We rang the doorbell; standing on the step with gift in hand. Heard the thundering of footfalls pounding over to the front door, while the rain drops beat a rhythm on the front handrail. A face peeked out from the rectangular window slice. A furrowed brow, beneath a bright pink and white striped beanie, took the three strangers in. All at once, a smile broke out, and the door opened. "Auntie Lisa? What are you doing here?" Then a quick retreat back into the door to yell out "Whitney!!!"

Whitney, foot thumping alerting us to her arrival, is breathless at the door. "Why are you here?"

"We heard there was a birthday girl.... Happy Birthday Whitney!", we yell and break into the birthday song. A half smile and look of delight on her face, Whitney announces, "Well, you can come inside!"

Inside we go...into the heated room, into the giggles and hugs of the girls. Into the astonished exclamations of "I had no idea you were coming! Did Mommy know? Why didn't anyone tell me?" The tugs on the arm to show us the latest story, article of clothing, silly joke. The pokes and prods and kisses of delight. The laughter.

Into the kitchen, easing into the chaotic flow of a regular evening with a busy family, finding our bearings with the mashing of the potatoes, the pouring of the red wine, the setting of the table. Getting our groove amongst the requests flying through the air "Girls, let's set the table. Aly, help Mommy with the potatoes."

Quick snatches of conversation, questions and comments layered with the jokes and the silliness and the excited hum of a change in the evening's plans. A sudden upheaval. Christmas in March.

And we closed the door against the rain and the windy, winter weather, and embraced the warmth within."