          |
|
7.19
One of these days I’m going to surprise you… But not today.
It’s a healthy attitude: To know that we’re not straight-jacketed by our past; that we’re free to do something radically new and unexpected now and then; that we can always break out of our shells, climb out of our ruts, throw off our previous limitations. Putting people “on notice” is a way of preparing ourselves for these changes as much as others. It helps keep our options open, and options are essential for growth.
On the other hand, it’s also essential to take a vacation from unrelenting growth. We need to periodically consolidate what we know, to live out the lessons we’ve just learned, to practice being Who We Are Now.
The Universe is written everywhere with the message that there’s a time and season for everything. Rest and stability are no less a part of the natural order than chaos and uncertainty. To say “Not today” is to accept and enjoy these seasons of rest, while acknowledging the times of instability and change that lie ahead. Taking full advantage of rest, in fact, is what prepares us for change.
Chances are we’ll know when the next season is arriving. And we’ll be all the more ready to embrace it.
I deserve the periods of contentment and peace in my life. I can be comfortable with who I am today, and still be ready for change tomorrow.
7.20
You could learn something from Mr. Spock, and stop thinking with your glands.
The idea is not to turn a deaf ear to the call of the wild, to stop enjoying the way our passions can sometimes transport us to a simpler place where life was felt, not analyzed. Having “glands”—sexual or otherwise—is a gift. The point is to not let them rule our lives.
In a broader sense, the point is to not let our bodies rule our lives. We are sentient beings, “knowing” beings. And by knowing what purpose our glands and our bodies serve, we can give them their due without losing the self-control that makes us us.
The most ancient Terran discipline for giving our bodies “their due” is called yoga. From a Sanskrit word meaning “union,” yoga is the practice of unifying our minds and bodies/glands into a single entity where every individual component works in harmony with the others. Practiced under a variety of other names across the galaxy, the discipline relies heavily on physical movement and balance, while focusing on one’s “inner senses.”
Ironically, we must become more conscious of our bodies and glands before we can stop “thinking” with them. We must also forgive ourselves for the times we allowed them to dictate our responses—and we ended up paying for it. Now, at least, we know better.
I will learn a discipline which helps me to unify body, mind and spirit—and I will practice it daily.
7.21
I’ve never let my past lives interfere with my job.
As a Trill, Dax might be regarded as a living, breathing example of the ancient concept of reincarnation. In Dax’s case, as with reincarnation, there is a more fundamental Self which resides in the body, yet transcends it. The real Dax isn’t the beautiful humanoid we see, but the deeper entity which also “incarnates” in many other successive lives—sometimes as a female, sometimes as a male.
But unlike those of us who must be content merely to believe (or not believe) in reincarnation, Trills have first-hand experience. Dax can recall her previous lifetimes in great detail—a fact which can create serious problems.
Ironically, non-Trills face some of the very same problems. Because even if we don’t accept the idea that we’ve lived before, we still, in a sense, have “past lives” to deal with. The people we are now are not the people we were ten years ago. Or even five. We’ve learned much; we’ve cast off bad habits and limiting beliefs (or we’re trying to). And the change in us often feels like a whole new life.
As we continue to grow, the challenge is to remember the lessons of our past lives, while not allowing that to interfere with the better person we’ve become. Or distract us from creating an even better life in the future.
My previous life is a priceless repository of first-hand experience. I draw insight and perspective from that life even as I grow well beyond it.
7.22
Sometimes… you just have to bow to the absurd.
Absurdity, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder. What seems absurd to one person may seem perfectly logical to another. Or at least not that illogical.
Often it takes someone else’s explanation or viewpoint to help us make sense of what happens in our lives. That’s why our network, our community, is so important. Alone, we may not have the knowledge or experience to integrate new information. Educators have long recognized that optimal learning proceeds in a series of steps that build upon one another. Out of sequence, events and new experiences can seem haphazard, random… absurd.
Unless someone fills in the missing steps for us.
But sometimes even that isn’t enough. Either no one can make us understand—that is, we just don’t “get it”; or no one understands. Which is another way of saying that there are limits to what we know. Or can know.
To “bow to the absurd” is not merely to acknowledge those limits, but to respect them. Because what we don’t know can hurt us. “Absurd” is therefore not a label for writing something off, but for reminding ourselves to proceed with caution, to find out more if we can, and to learn to live with our own ignorance in the meantime.
Things often don’t make sense. But help is always available, both from others and my Inner Source—if only to support me while I seek answers.
7.23
Maybe necessity really is the mother of invention. You never look for something until you need it.
Nowhere is this more true than in spiritual matters. Many of us never go looking for a religious community or spiritual discipline because we prefer to think of ourselves as fully independent, fully self-reliant. Some will hang on to this belief in the face of all evidence to the contrary.
For others, the truth finally breaks through in the form of hard, scientific data about the “soft” boundaries which only seem to separate us—or in the realization that our solitary, one-point-in-space/time perspective on life is so incredibly limiting.
Some form of this realization, whether conscious or subconscious, is said to be why religion was invented. Ironically, because it was invented is why many reject it.
But an invention—any invention—works insofar as it takes advantage of laws and realities that are not someone’s invention. Spiritual disciplines, and the traditions which uphold them, can work for us to the extent that they understand these pre-existing laws and realities correctly, and provide a mechanism whereby we can use them to live fuller, more satisfying lives.
How many other inventions do that?
More than the right job or mate or possessions, I need the right perspective. Today I will look for new resources to help me reaffirm and re-invent my life.
7.24
If you lie all the time, no one is going to believe you… even when you’re telling the truth.
The Terran fable of the shepherd who cried “Wolf!” is retold in dozens of similar folktales all across the galaxy. Like the story of the Klingon sentry who raises so many false alarms that his fellow warriors no longer respond when the real attack comes. Or the account of the Ferengi businessman who forgets to tell just enough of the truth to fool off-worlders into believing his sales pitch.
The fact is, we base our acceptance of what’s true on the reliability of the source. We tend to trust our own perceptions first—what we can “see with our own eyes.” We rely on other people’s testimony only insofar as we respect their track record or proven “authority.”
But the real crisis is not about believing what other people say. It’s whether we can believe in who we are. And too often it’s our own lies that shatter our belief: Our inability to admit when we’re wrong; our substitution of a private fantasy world for “real life”; our unwillingness to take an unflinching, objective look at our own flaws and commit ourselves to the hard work of personal growth.
Before we can believe anything, we must reject our own lies. To know the truth, we must first be able to trust what we tell ourselves.
The real challenge is to be true to myself. I will be honest in evaluating my own thoughts and actions.
7.25
I have noted that the healthy release of emotion is frequently very unhealthy for those closest to you.
Just as an infant’s cries will grow louder until his caregiver responds to his needs, our own emotions can grow “louder” until we pay them the attention they deserve.
Ignoring those messages will result in either of two outcomes: Our emotions finally explode and disrupt our lives so that we must deal with them. Or, like the infant who finally gives up and learns not to cry—ever—our emotions are driven deep inside us where their energy is twisted into negative thoughts and physical ailments.
Our health, then, depends on keeping our emotional energy where we can “see” it, where we can interpret and respond to the message it is sending us. We do this by accepting it and releasing it, thereby letting it speak to us.
But not where others might misunderstand it.
An emotional outburst can mean something entirely different to someone else. Those closest to us, especially, can react to our displays of anger and sorrow and self-reproach as if they are somehow responsible. What’s healthy for us ends up hurting them, and our relationships.
We must consider the message our emotions convey to others as carefully as the message they hold for us.
I respect my own emotions. And I will respect others by releasing my full emotions only in private, or around those I know won’t misinterpret them.
The above meditations were taken from Going Boldly on Your Inner Voyage © 1999-2006, IF Books.
To purchase your own copy of the book, please click here...
|
|
