Done.

I'm 99% certain, finally, that I'm going to sell my house. I've pondered this idea off an on for a looong time now. I mean, it's at least been 1.5 years that I've considered it. I leave that 1% b/c I reserve the right to change my mind, but I'm finally feeling it. Been waiting for this actually. The feeling inside that it's time, it's right, it's what I want to do.

Why? What changed? A few things. Tearing up my front yard has spawned a slew of thoughts, and when it comes down to it, I'm just not making the time to do anything to make this place into what I want it to be. Had I bought for a low price, then ok... it'd make sense to hang on, but considering what I pay for my mortgage + taxes, as a single person, it's a lot compared to the amount of enjoyment I get from it. I think it's a cute place. I wouldn't have bought it otherwise, but it also needs some work and I don't want to put the time nor money into it. It's a choice. I'm not being lazy. In fact, that's part of the problem: there are other things I want to do that are taking precedence.

I've stepped back into cycling. I'm enjoying it again. I'm loving yoga. I cooked this weekend and yum, yum, yum. I hiked with Scooter. I went to the pool. I went to a coffee house and did a bit of writing, then Brian met up with me and we chatted over some wine. In short, it's time to play. Houses come with a lot of work. I just don't want to put the effort into it.

I feel like every time I got close in the past to making this decision that someone gave me a long story about why I shouldn't sell. But ya know, we all have to make the decisions that are right for ourselves. It's not making me happy to know that I *should* be taking care of my front yard. I *should* be cleaning up the back. I *should* straighten up the garage. Well, that garage, that's part of it too in a sense. I don't want to own so much stuff. This is kind of funny for me to say considering that I live lighter than the vast majority of home owners I know. But really, I don't want all the yard equipment and things in the garage that are simply taking up space. What's the point?

Indeed, what's the point? Why own? If you're with someone, especially if you have a family, then yeah... I can see it. But why would a single female who makes a fairly decent salary, yet also owns a sick horse and doesn't know how to fix most things when they break spend the money on such a thing? I get that rent goes toward nothing. I do. But so do taxes in that sense. And there are the upkeep costs that when you consider the amt I pay every month for this on a single income, not making sense to me.

And I also feel I can stand on my own two feet and say enough with it. I know, without a doubt, one of the reasons I *had* to buy a place after Mike and I split was to prove to myself I could make it on my own. He had his doubts. I had my own doubts. And owning my own place, well, that was having the stability or perceived groundedness that I sought. And yet it's been more like a string tying me to something that hasn't felt completely organic. I forsee myself having another place. I'm not against homeownership. And maybe it'll be a fantastic thing where I meet someone and we go into my next place together. Or DESIGN IT! Now THAT would be awesome! I'd love to pick up something and remodel it into what I want, but 1) not this place, and 2) not on my own. It's kind of like kids in this regard. You can certainly be a single parent and many of them do a wonderful job. But this isn't ideally what I want. Kids bring so many positives, but I want to share that with someone else. Owning a home.. if it's a full-blown house anyway, I want that with someone else. My next place may be a townhome or something, but a home (at least an older one which are the ones that appeal to me) aren't for me right now.

What's next? Well, going to call Tues to have a few folks out to do bids on my front disaster of a yard. Need to do some painting inside. But you know... I don't have THAT much to do. Trim in the bathroom. Cleaning. But where will I go? Dunno.. I like the Far West area. I could live in Crestview. Love the south area too. Not really set, but I for sure won't be looking to buy. Not now.

99%? Yeah, but I'm feeling pretty damn good about this.

Osho #31: Experimentation

Huh, well, this Osho meditation is just so spot on for life. Experimentation? Hells yeah!
Do it.
Often.
With fervor.

Expect to fail, but try. Whenever you think you've mastered something, try a new approach to it, play with it, interpret it another way, do something to make it challenging, interesting, different again. As perfect as you may think it is, there is always some way to make it better.

If something isn't working for you, switch it up. You may come back to the original way, you may not, but don't play the same dull beat over and over, nor live life as a robot going through the programmed motions. Sometimes by experimenting you figure out why things weren't working before, you can make them better, you can leave them behind, but change it up.

Life isn't about the finality of things, that's death. It's about the journey. what you learn. what you do along the way. what you try. we learn SO much from failure. so so much. and accepting good enough is simply not good enough.

~ ~ ~                         ~ ~                         ~ ~ ~ ~                      ~                            ~                    .

Come, walk with me as we scale the boundary's edge.

But what's over there? Am I welcome? Will I like it? Is it warm? Is it cold? Could I get hurt? Could I fall in love? Could I be attacked? Will I be changed? Will I win? Will I fail? Will I grow or will I shrink? Will I have to fight? Will I simply accept? Will it be gruesome or will it be beautiful?

Come. let's check it out.

But I don't know what to expect nor how to prepare myself.

Exactly.

Osho #30: Emptiness

On first thought, emptiness conjures thoughts of being without. My cup runneth over can't really happen if your cup is empty. The gas tank is empty, fill it. The bank account approaches zero, next paycheck replenishes it. "I'm feeling empty inside" isn't typically stated as a positive way to feel. Ahhh, but why not?

I challenge that emptiness is to be sought, valued, and guarded. An empty room may seem stark and cold to some, but isn't it really anything you want it to be? It's open for you to create. It doesn't have to be filled with furniture to be useful. An empty room offers space, possibility, openess. Maybe it's left exactly as is... it's a place to walk into and feel completely uninhibited, most decidedly NOT surrounded by all the crap that typically would fill it. Maybe it's a yoga studio. Maybe it's where cartwheels are perfected. Maybe it's a spot for a trampoline. Or, maybe it does become a more *normal* room. Regardless, emptiness opens the doors to all sorts of possibilities. YOU decide what goes in there.

Why can't a full life mean a life with a lot of emptiness? A life with a lot of freedom, filled with things that touch us & have meaning vs. *things* that simply fill a space. Think about music. Music doesn't pick up its bags and move on in, filling up emptiness; rather it flows into & through us as waves and sure as hell makes itself known. It can enter as sound and simply stay in the ear to be heard if we offer no open paths, bouncing back from whence it came. But if we allow some emptiness, it will find these open pathways and be heard, yes, but also felt, resonating into our awareness. Sometimes it scrapes the walls & causes pain, tears, anger. Other times it glides gently through offering love, joy, contentment. Either way, it leaves our open paths intact, whispering an entry into our memory, then leaving us with the most intoxicating emptiness to be explored over and over and over again.

He was right about the onion

I don't remember the date, though it was sometime last May during the period of hell. I don't recall the neurologist's name, but I do remember his demeanor, that he also once had a bad cycling accident, that he was an older man, that he was very blunt & to the point yet also underlying that was much warmth, and that he was a natural teacher as we stared at my brain's MRI and he told me all about what he was (and thankfully, wasn't) seeing. And most specifically, I remember his comparison of my recovery to an onion.

I was told to be prepared. That recovering from a skull fracture was interesting stuff that could take a year, maybe even two, before I'd likely feel *normal* again. And I recall thinking, "Whaaaa????? Come on..." Now granted, I was in the midst of some bad stuff when I saw him and knew I wasn't flying through recovery as I'd originally been the first couple weeks, but I also didn't think a year or more was reasonable.

And yet here I sit almost 11 months later & know EXACTLY, and WITHOUT A DOUBT what this wise man was telling me. He said to consider this recovery like an onion in regards to the brain. That a few weeks from when we met I'd look back and realize I felt way more back into the real world. Then a few weeks from that I'd look back and think, "Ohhh...NOW I feel good compared to then" and so on. This constant realization and feeling that OK NOW I've stepped back into normal life would hit me suddenly and cause me to reflect back and realize that it truly is like an onion. There are many layers & closer to the center is the real me and my clarity. And these layers will slowly get peeled away, periodically. And to be prepared to keep feeling more *back* as the year progressed. But also to not be surprised nor frustrated if it took even longer than that.

I SO get what he means. I've been incredibly checked out of life. I finally feel I've stepped back in only within the last week, but with that said I'm now questioning what I'll think a couple more months from now. It's weird b/c in December I felt I was back in. Then I went out again.

I re-read a journal entry from last June to see where I was at mentally. June 14, 2010, a week shy of 2 months post-accident and what I was writing about is something I did in May the day my parents went home the 1st time & 2 days before I was about to stop taking the anti-seizure meds. I recall this day. Holy hell.

"...and on that night I ripped all my previous journal entries out and threw them away b/c after reading them I realized #1 so many of them seemed ridiculous & inconsequential & no longer the truth, and #2 the thought that if this were to be my end, I'd not want someone to come across the useless crap I'd written while taking care of my belongings. What a strange thought to have: I may die. What has to happen in our brains, to our psyche, to our will for us to concede and allow death to become a valid possibility?"

First, I'm sad I discarded those pages. #1 is BS - so maybe I didn't feel the same later, etc but it's how I felt and what I thought *at that moment* in time so it IS valid. And then that whole feeling of death. Sheesh. Not something I want to go back to so excuse me while I softly rest my hand on my heart to feel it beating as I often did during my recovery. To feel my heart beating at night and in the morning was nothing but a simple check that meant I was truly still alive in some form. I feel I've moved through, or am still moving through, a bit of a transitional period. Of figuring out a lot of stuff. Of a new awakening, awareness, and reality. It's surreal. Some scary $hit can go on in the noggin. It's also odd how any time I think of my accident, the thoughts go to my clavicle, the surgery, my plate, etc. But really... while that sucked too... the skull fracture is what gave me these feelings of death. The oozing of stuff out my ear, stuff dripping down my throat at night. And that horrible, horrible pain I felt even while highly medicated that made me think this is what Munch's Scream is all about and this is the start of schizophrenia. Ah, the brain. My little onion.

I've been out of sorts, continuing along, but struggling - in waves.. sometimes fine, other times less than fine, but really still ok as compared to even just a couple months prior. I am thankful for my life and have much goodness in it. Been having a really difficult time focusing & throwing myself into things like I used to though. I don't think it's that I don't care... it's something I'm unable to explain. I'm in major want of having someone's arms wrapped around me and just being supported & maybe that's one of the keys --> to feel that acceptance and support even if he/she doesn't fully understand all this. It's like I'm peeling an onion layer and handing it to someone who looks back and asks, "What is THAT? What do you want me to do with it?" And all I can do is blankly stare and say I don't know. I thought maybe you'd know. It seems like it was once useful, but maybe it's not so do we toss it? turn it into compost? play catch with it? does it even matter?

Agni

I dwell in the shadow of giants, enveloped by a canopy of dank, dark suppression. Roots fed abundantly with fear, ignorance, insecurities, negativity, judgment. I live here, yet it is not home. Discomfort, aggression, unsettled wanderings, doubt, pain, loneliness. It is theirs. And yet, I stay.

But I've heard you. Through every sweet breath that scatters leaves and sets limbs in motion. I've glimpsed your flicker through the massive boughs, shimmers of brilliant light dancing on the forest floor. Your warmth comforts me as the tears course down my cheek & fall to the earth, fodder for the roots of my despair. I reach for you. You slip away.

I am here. I have always been here and keep your flame ignited. Rise and be known. I will not reside with you among the death and decay, shadowed and stunted. Rise and be known. It is your choice.

I try. I fail. I try. I fail again. But the roots have become hungry as their nutrients wane with each of my attempts to stand tall. I feel their leeching, yet my sustenance is rarely useful for them anymore. As their tendrils die off and join the ground, I gather the hollowed logs to fuel my sacred fire, building the once mere flicker into energy that swirls and courses through my veins. Here it resides, compressed, and waits.

Waiting.

Once the heart is opened it cannot be closed.

Waiting.

Fear not and be known.

Waiting.

Trust. Believe. 

Waiting.

Expose. Accept. And Love.

Let your heart be known. To others. ~ ~ To Yourself. ~ ~

Stepping out into the vast, open space, you smile broadly and greet me. Taking my hand, we are finally one. You have always been here. 
I wait no more.

Osho #29: Trust

As these things go, it's really unbelievable, yet so perfect, that trust is my next Osho to write about. I'm dealing with major trust stuff right now. Ridiculous stuff that's pissing me off. And yet being pissed off isn't doing anything other than pissing me off even more. ;-) Hurumph.....

TRUST

Trust.....
...trust
.

ok, ok, too simple, but really. anyway...

Trust that....

... you are stronger than you could ever imagine. When you think you've reached your limit, you haven't. Try a teensy bit more because you can. When your muscles are shaking, your heart is aching, your brain has turned to mush, feel the sensations, hang out, and know that whatever you're feeling isn't how it will always be. Enjoy, surrender, and say thank you. Trust that this isn't the rest of your life.

... there will be relationships that leave you feeling completely exposed and vulnerable. But eventually you will realize how incredibly much you learned from that person and about yourself and you will look back and say thank you. And also... open yourself up to trust again (please), even knowing you can feel pain again. Open your heart. Let others back in. Trust that finding a connection with another person, the feelings you can find, the depth you can explore, and the beauty you can experience are so worth risking the potential of hurt.

!!! ... we have fears that defy logic & can frustrate the living shit out of us. We can meet them and cower. We can try to force them out or even ignore them. It's only when we accept them and say, "hello, nice to meet you. let's sit and chat for a while" & welcome them into our space that they can be transformed into a catalyst for growth and strength.
!!!

... you are not alone.

... your friends love you. and while they want to see you try and succeed, they'll love you no less no matter what happens.

... there is a constant ebb and flow in life. Expect it. Plan on it. Enjoy & celebrate the joyous moments. Don't freak out about the sad, angry, or negative times. This too shall pass.   This too, shall pass.

... there are teachers everywhere around us. Listen to them. Cherish them. They may see things in you that make you feel raw and a bit too known for your own liking, but if you allow them in you'll be rewarded richly.


... who you are is beautiful. You may not be perfect, you may not be satisfied with where you're at in life, but as long as you're alive, not just living, but ALIVE, you.are.beautiful. Rock On.


... trusting yourself, believing in yourself... these things can be terribly difficult. But trust that to the very core of your being you always have yourself and it's best to cultivate a generous relationship there and give yourself a chance to have your own back. You do. You will. Trust it.

Wheels

I have a new porch rail. Love. It.

What do you see?

Mmmm hmmm... the obvious to begin with. Bike wheels. Yep. That they are. The tie to cycling is absolutely there and the perfect place to start as it's been a piece of who I am for more years than I can remember. Memories of happy times, feeling exhausted yet SO alive, pushing through pain and finding that new burst of energy, seeing breathtaking views and sights that took me in, consuming me much more than driving past and witnessing. My bike has been my vehicle at many times in my life. From simple commutes to the store, to work, to a friend's, to a few weeks spent cycling around Vermont carrying our tents & sleeping bags & supplies in panniers and knowing what it feels like to go 3mph up a mountain pass, weighted only by a few necessities & powered only by the energy contained within. Oh My God was that an amazing trip of sun, warmth, hail, snow, rain, beers, laughs, kindness, and winging life completely. Such joy. To the Colorado ride where I swore I was insane to keep going, knees aching unimaginably each morning as we climbed a minimum of one mountain pass a day and my entire psyche was just trashed and dimmed. Yet I finished. And oddly now think, meh... maybe I should try that again (wtf??? nooooooooooo). So many fantastic rides. And then also... pain. fear. more pain. a horrendous head-splitting time & the ahhhh shot to the skull. a few nights wondering if i was going to wake in the morning as I felt the oozing of my brain (seriously... grossest thing ever. ever.) as it healed (thank God). This, too, is cycling. And the wheels represent all of this. The good and the bad. It's a part of my life. A part of who I am. A part of what's made my body strong and lithe. A part of what's kept my brain (relatively) sane. An outlet. A goal. An achievement. And my friend.

We're conceived, we live, we die, we go back to the earth. And for something else, the cycle starts all over again. Over and over. Which is also how we are in life. What i do, what i say, these things are very rarely only a part of my little world. Like the spokes on the wheel, everything is connected. I may not always realize how pieces of me impact others, or the result can also be right in front of me, but regardless, we're all connected in some way. Sharing the air we breathe, the water we drink & that makes up the majority of our bodies, the soil on which some of us tread lightly and others trash to holy hell. We're all part of something much larger and on it goes.

And motion. Wheels are motion just as life is a constantly evolving, dynamic, fluid continuum. Rolling forward, backwards, sometimes standing still, but always there's the inevitable movement again. They're a vehicle to assist us in our path of life and will easily roll over rocks and boulders and all kinds of obstacles. But beware the muck as here we can get stuck. Beware standing in one place for too long as the repetition can wear away the foundation and carve a deep trench. Move on. In some way, always move on.

Wheels also have a center, that if knocked out of balance causes us to sit up and take stock. And it's ok. Feel it for a while. Maybe the center has shifted. Maybe a little more weight is needed here to relieve the tension from somewhere else. And just as truing a wheel puts it back in balance, we also strive to find what is true for ourselves and find our center.

How beautiful that wheels are a continual circle with neither a beginning nor an ending. They are eternity, unity, wholeness, perfection, connection. How I love connection. The edge around the circle is also a boundary. Boundaries are good, necessary really, but they should guide, protect, and keep us safe vs being restrictive, unyielding, or finite.

And so we should allow ourselves the freedom to travel and explore with a boundary of safety as we rebalance our lives and find what's true in our center. To find this endless connection with ourselves and all other beings. To know that when we feel stuck, finding a bit of stillness, then standing in the open and waiting for the gentlest of breezes to move us in a new direction may be all that's needed to take us to places we'd have never imagined otherwise. The world is open and it is ours in which to play. Hop on & let it roll.