Unstuffing

Why do we stuff our lives with so much?  What holes are we trying to fill? Or maybe I should ask why do I stuff my life with so much? 

It's a reaction to a feeling of scarcity I've carried with me for as long as I can remember. It's why I like to save things.  It's why I like to keep in touch with friends for years after our relationships stopped being very meaningful. I don't like to lose things. I mistakenly think that if I let something go, nothing will fill the void.

But something always fills the void.  Something always comes in and fills my life with newness when I let go of the old.  I have to be willing to release things or say no to them from the start.

Lately, too much has been swooping in, and I've been accepting far too much of it. I have to unpack my life.  Much like when I stuff my body with food, if I stuff my life with commitments and activities, I feel sick, tired, and sad.

At first, being incredibly busy feels great, especially when everything I'm doing are things I love. It's hard to say no when the opportunities are all so great. Nevertheless, too much of anything does not equal happiness.  Too much is usually, well, too much.

Why am I becoming more aware of this tendency to stuff?  Meditation. During meditation, I get an acute sense of what it feels like to exist without worry, to not have to do anything. In those moments, I know down deep that I will be okay, even if I achieve nothing or win nothing. Most of the time, I am not worry-free throughout my entire meditation, but in those pockets of serenity, I understand what it means to let go.

Only now, at age 30, am I can beginning to understand letting go at a deeper level.  I barely got to know it as a concrete thing in my 20s.  Before age 26, it was a mythical idea.  Now, I see the deeper necessity of letting go. 

After living on earth long enough (I guess 30 is long enough), we accumulate things and we start choosing what to save. People like me want to hold onto everything, to go back, to keep the old for the future. Everything seems equally meaningful. But in actuality, it's healthiest to release it all and to move forward afresh. It's also healthy to know when my life has hit capacity and to say no to new commitments and things at those times.

Today, I commit to choosing things for my calendar based on my values, not on my fear of not having or being or doing enough. I can make choices that align with what I want to be and what truly matters—not other people, not the world's standards, but instead, my values.

Will you clear you calendar with me?

Out of Whack

Can you remember times in your life when the universe seemed to align—when the world outside, the world inside, your body, and your desires all walked together in synchronicity? Now is not one of those times. Not for me.

It feels as though the world is handing me things faster than I can take them while my body aches for rest and my heart wants everything and nothing at the same time. When a few spare moments float to the surface, I like to sit and be quiet, asking for some direction, some peace about life. The truth is, I prefer a slower pace. When things move so quickly that I can practically feel the breeze their momentum creates, it’s time to take a step back. When my to-do lists grow longer and more complicated, I have to throw them away. I have to trust that the important things will rise to the surface.

However, this has always been difficult for me. Especially now, I genuinely want to accomplish every single task and aspiration I’ve noted on colored post-its and affixed to my coffee table/work area. So many exciting opportunities, interests, and burgeoning abilities to choose from. Can I find a happy medium between throwing in the towel and pursing these line items to the point of overwhelming my mind, body, and schedule?

The key is doing one thing at a time and remembering the downside of multi-tasking. If I’m doing three things at once, I’m doing nothing as well as I could. It’s often more efficient to tackle one thing at a time because my mind can fully focus on the task at hand and complete it far more quickly. I can apply this to small things (eating, answering emails, cleaning, and doing work for my job) as well as to the pursuit of large-scale goals.

For instance, I can decide to work on my website a little bit tonight. I don’t have to decide what my entire online package will be. I can just work on a single page tonight. If that’s too vague or too much, I can decide to exclusively find the images I’m going to use on a few pages and upload them. Instead of thinking about the friends/contacts/mentees/associates I need to call as a giant entity I care so much about and can so easily let down, I can decide to reply to one email or make one outreach call. Simplification is often key for me.

But still, my body, mind, and outside world feel all out of kilter. What does my soul think? Can it possibly draw these disparate pieces together? Can slowing down fix this issue? Perhaps not. I am learning so much in so many areas; maybe none of these parts of me know quite how to continue operating. I certainly can’t be the person I was before I gained the knowledge I’m now gaining. I can’t make the world revert back to how it was before I had responsibilities, opportunities, or various hardships. I must start walking from this point, even if everything else is out of step at first.

So I guess the essential truth here is to take one step at a time, in whatever I encounter or go through, in any area of life. Just keep stepping. And I guarantee that I will also be lying down, closing my eyes, and crying out for guidance in the stillness.

Simple and Sweet

I recently wrote a simple, happy song called “Colors of You.” Something in me loves a simple, breezy song. I admire its sweetness because so few of my songs have that quality. I tend toward the intense ballad, which I enjoy equally, but those few lighthearted pieces are treasures in my heart.

This extends to life. I am attracted to high-drama, bold color, and intensity. I try to create these things and live within them. But when I happen upon a simple moment with just the right feeling and all the right colors, I smile and relax. I am relaxing right now, as the sun shines through my window and I have no pressing business to attend to until I return to work next Monday. Glorious.

This life is beautiful and precious. I don’t think any gems are wasted, even if I’m the only one here experiencing them. Perhaps someone else out there is experiencing a charmed moment, too, and in a way, we share it together. That makes my heart smile.

See, I’m as cheesy as it gets… and I’m owning it now. For years, I dismissed the lighter part of me ‑ the delicate, girly, Disney-feature-film (if you will) part of me. Now, I like and appreciate her. Cynicism gets you places, but not everywhere. The same can be said for the more rainbow-esque part of me. I’m glad to embrace both elements now.

Anyway, I wish you all 365 more jewel-like days in 2009. Hopefully, it will be the best year yet! For my part, I’m certain it will be. Sure, parts will smell like the used Trans Am of a 16-year-old boy without enough money or sense to purchase deodorant. But other parts will be fresh as a daisy! Hope it’s filled with whatever makes you happy (and if that’s stinky teenage boys, more power to you, as long as we’re in legal territory…).

Happy New Year!

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Oh, and it has come to my attention that more than one reader out there is restraining him/herself from commenting or emailing me after digesting my posts. Just wanted to say, feel free to comment or contact at any time! If people don’t comment because no one else does, then the ball never starts rolling. And even if it never starts rolling, I enjoy the few comments I do get, whether online or in person. Thanks to everyone! I appreciate you all more than you can know :)

The Simple Life

I am officially in love with riding my bike (as if that wasn't apparent before). I hate traffic. Finally, I feel like being on my bike puts me ahead of the rest. It's freeing to know the back ways to get places, even when I do have to take my car. Getting to work by bike is a normal activity for me now, so it's no problem to two-wheel it in lieu of fighting lines at flashing stop lights and wasting precious gasoline.

Sitting in traffic makes me scream and cry and beat my steering wheel...and I mean literally. (I have the bruised forearms to prove it.) My stress levels rise that high.

In contrast, the time on my bike before and after work provides a space where I do nothing but travel. I don't think of it as exercise, and other potential daily activities don't enter my mind much. The only goal is a destination. The only objective is to stay safe on the road. Simple.

I desire simplicity more and more these days. Simple lifestyles attract me. I want to live in a community where I don't have to go far for anything essential, where my friends are near, where my interactions are not mitigated by layers of electronic facilitation. I like the idea of a few friends, a few things to do, a generous amount of time, and a whole lot of love. In many ways, the hurricane gave me a glimpse into that, and riding my bike expresses in a small way the simplicity my heart longs for. Thank you for beautiful weather and good health.

(Playing my guitar gets me back to basics, too.)