Sleepy Time

I still have that blog post simmering in my head re what I enjoy about my new job, but I’m so very sleepy.  I’m off to bed early to catch up on rest.  There might be a big snow storm overnight, so they sent us home with our work laptops so we can work from home tomorrow if we need to. Frankly, I’d rather be there with my ergonomic chair and tea mug and the deli where Phyllis will make a salad with extra broccoli just for me.  My clients will be calling and I don’t want them to get my voice mail all day long. Nightie night.

We Are the Same in This

The cases that come to me for claims management come from the assistance and nursing team.  During the medical emergency, we have nurse case managers who assist the client and liaise with attending doctors and nurses  while the case is “medically open.” Once the emergency is over, the case is medically closed and turned over to a claims manager who helps the client submit the claim for payment.

When cases move from the assistance side to the claims team, my supervisor assigns each case to one of us.  Each morning I review my new cases, familiarizing myself with what has happened so far…reading over the case notes and preparing myself for anything that might prove difficult to handle.

The other day I was reading the notes on a case.  The son had called in to report an incident that was going on right then when he called.  I read the almost verbatim notes of what was said by the client and by the nurse on our assistance team.  CPR was given by the paramedics.  It was being continued in ER at the hospital.  By the next time our nurse spoke to the son, his father had been pronounced dead. “I cannot speak to you right now,” the man had said. “I’m too upset.”

I began to dread the moment when it would be my turn to deal with the family of the deceased.  I did not want to have to make these people send things to me in the mail.  If they failed to submit their bills in a timely manner, I didn’t want to have to call them or write to them or bother them at all in their time of grief.  And so the case sat there on my spreadsheet for two weeks with the word WAIT in the status column.

Today the call came.  Fortunately the call didn’t come in cold on my direct line, but was transferred from someone on the assistance team who told me the name of the person on hold.  “Oh yes, Mr. S!  I’ve been expecting his call. Put him through,” I said.  I didn’t have to pull him up on my screen. I knew his whole case by heart.

“First please let me tell you how sorry I am for your loss,” I said before he could get a word out.

He thanked me.  “It happens to all of us,” he said. “We are the same in this.”

Yes, yes it does.  We all die.  I’ve spent a lot of time lately reflecting on that fact, I thought, not speaking.

My caller said he did not feel right talking about these payments. “It doesn’t seem right, you know? It’s uncomfortable.”

“Yes, it must feel uncomfortable,” I said.  “But this is what insurance is for.  It’s okay.  Do you have a receipt for the cremation?”

Yes.

“And did the funeral home give you a receipt for the container?”

Yes.

Because of his religion, he explained to me, they could not send the ashes back to his country unaccompanied. Could he submit his airfare for taking the ashes home?  I told him to send me everything and I would do my best to see what could be covered under the policy. I made sure he had our address.

“My name is Kelly and I am your claims manager. My extension is 42.  If you have any more questions at all, you call me.”

“Thank you,” he said. “Thank you for your help. You’ve been very kind. Thank you for your compassion,” he said and hung up.

What I Didn’t Become When I Grew Up

When I was in university, I’m sure my mom was hoping against hope I would figure out what I wanted to be when I grew up. She was paying the tuition and perhaps should have been a bit more strict with me on this point. But I…ever the space cadet, dreamer and bookish child…was happily lost in a fantasy world where I would never have to make a living. That would sort itself out on its own, I assumed.

And so I went happily from one language class to the next. I loved astronomy, as well. Algebra was fun and so was trig, especially when I discovered that what I was learning in those classes were applicable in the astronomy lab.

Had I chanced upon a truly insightful or skilled academic counsellor who had time to find out more about my aptitudes, we probably could have discovered that while I loved languages and liberal arts, my test scores were three times higher in the pure sciences. When I play Trivial Pursuit or watch Jeopardy on television, I get most revved up by questions in the field of medicine and biology.

Even more than I loved science, however, I loved pleasing people. Or rather I hated displeasing people. I was making straight As in high school biology until I felt a surge of peer pressure to stop doing so well. The other kids were trying to convince the principal that their low scores were the result of having a senile teacher. Their argument was not entirely without merit, but my high scores undermined their credibility. I obligingly flunked the final.

I am not one to look back on my life and weep over having been too shy to apply for scholarships. My mom offered me piano lessons or to attend the Catholic private school if that was what I wanted. A friend begged me to join Girl Scouts. Each of those proposals filled me with anxiety. I just wanted to be left alone, left under the big tree with the roots that formed a comfy place for me to snuggle in and read my book. I wanted my life to be quiet and simple, devoid of scary challenges. With the exception of a couple of close girlfriends who were enough like me not be be intimidating, I wanted other children to stay the hell away from me.

It gets tiring going through life having others tell you how to feel and what to want. When you have high aptitude in an area or multiple areas, people expect you to apply those skills to … you guessed it… making money. Hey, you should go to med school! Hey, you should go to law school!  Hey, you should become a simultaneous interpreter at the U.N.!!! You can do it! You’re sooooo smart.

Well, it takes more than smarts to do those things. It takes drive and ambition and, …um,…wanting to?

The other night while enjoying dinner with two of Sylvain’s friends, we were talking about the positive aspects of midlife. One thing for which I am truly grateful is that with midlife has come an acceptance of who I am. I did not apply to med school. And that’s O.K. I did not become a college prof like my dad nor did I get my masters like my brother and mom. I don’t work at the U.N.

It’s all okay.

I have had a string of not so glorious jobs, but at each of them I have found meaning and small fonts of joy.  That leads me to want to tell you about one of the things I like most about my new job, which I will do soon.

Chickadee Time

I was reading Violet’s blog, which is pretty exciting these days since she and Coffee just adopted THREE BOYS. I was thinking about them and suddenly remembered something really fun to do in the KW area that they might not know about yet. This is the time of year, especially after a good snow, when you can feed the wild chickadees from your hand. Kids get such a kick out of this, but so do many adults. One place to do this is the F.W.R. Dickson Wilderness Area.

To get there, go south on Spragues Road from Cambridge and turn right onto Brant-Waterloo Road. The parking lot is located on the right hand side of the road. Park and look at the little parks department sign that has a map of the trail. Follow the trail around to the boardwalk to where it becomes a little bridge. That is where to stand and hold out your hand with a little pile of black-oil sunflower seeds. Be patient, the birds will come.

Don’t leave valuables in your car. Oh, and bring the CAMERA. The shots will be priceless.

22 Jan 2008

The dry snow brushes easily off the car, lands on my feet, does not soak into the cotton fabric of my red tights, does not moisten my black Mary Janes. There is no wind, not even a slight breeze. I doff my hood and notice the cloudy sky.

Today I do not take the expressway. I don’t know why. The car in front of me has two bumper stickers, which I can read when we come to a stop light. Sure, I’ll try her station. Can you go wrong with non-profit community radio?

Fishtailing slightly on a turn, I ask myself why I took the longer, slower (snowier) route. By the airport, I come to a stop behind a line of cars waiting for a train to pass. Snowy fields, the morning sun just beginning to brush the slightest tint of gold onto the fat heads of the wheat-like grass bordering the road. It waves at me. I wave back.

That’s when I notice the experimental musical piece has turned everything outside the car into a movie set. The passing train and snow and sun and music were made for one another, blend seamlessly. I know the train and musical piece will come to an end at the same time. I know this because it’s one of those moments when things go surreal. You slip into that zone where you know what happens next. You know because it cannot come out any other way. The universe is committed now. We are co-creating this moment, the Universe and I.

The music lasts far longer than today’s pop tunes. The train is going fast, but is long long long enough to keep perfect pace with the climaxing musical work.

Bizarre electronic waa waa tinkle dong dong denouement announces the caboose.

You Make My Day Award

Olivia and Annie have given me the You Make My Day award. When things like that happen to me, it feels surreal. I think I have a touch of the imposter complex. I intend to live as a kind, warm, encouraging person, but whenever someone gives me feedback indicating I am coming across that way, it catches me off guard.

I can now name up to ten bloggers whose blogs bring me happiness and inspiration and make me feel so happy about blogland! I should let them know by posting a comment on their blog so that they can pass it on. Well, this is more than 10, but if you are on my blogroll, consider yourself tagged because that is why your blog is on my blogroll…because I like reading your blog! I don’t like the whole idea of singling out some people or some blogs over others.   Gosh, I’m bad with rules, aren’t I?

Ok, now I feel bad.  It’s fun to get an award.  I should follow the rules and pass this on.  Ok.  But this feels to me like grade five when we had to go through the picking process for volleyball and how bad I felt for the kid who always got picked last.  So if it’s okay with you, I’d like to abstain from picking.

Sigh.

Five Bloggie Things

Karen has nudged me to do this and I can’t say no to her, she’s just such a sweetie. Plus it sounds fun. I am to link to a blog post of my own on each of the following five topics, then tag five people to do the same. Or something. You’d better go back to Karen for the real guidelines. I’m bad about not faithfully reporting the rules of these things.

My Love

Friend

Myself

Family (I have not written about my brother yet)

A post I like

Consider yourselves tagged, Lizzi, Carla, Rick, Melle and Lynn.

Some Good Things

Some good things this week have been:

The smell of brown basmati that rises from my breakfast bowl when the rice milk hits the hot oatmeal.

Stepping out into the cold, dark, frosty morning at 7:00 to the sharp, sweet smell of wood smoke.

Spending my lunch hour reading this article in MacLean’s: How to Fix Boys.  If you parent a boy or more, I highly recommend the article.

Waking up next to Sylvain. A big thanks to his buddies who came over the other day to drag the evil backache causing mattress to the basement spare room and hauling the guest bed mattress up to the top floor.  Sylvain is treating his big, strong pals to a hockey game tomorrow night.

Getting three books in the mail.

Getting the Kiarostami film Taste of Cherry in the mail from Zip.ca.

Discovering Bookmooch (thank you, Sukipoet!) and sending four books in the mail.

If you want one of my books when I’m done reading it, you’d best tell me now before I go promising it to a stranger halfway around the world.

Random kindness so rocks.

Kindness on the Job

Storyteller has been talking about the importance of kindness.

It is not that rare for me to overhear people cursing insurance companies. Some people feel they are evil and are out to make obscene profits. Having worked in the industry for eight years, I can tell you that insurance companies strive to keep premiums down. The reason for this is competition. If you can offer better rates, you can attract more business. That said, I will admit their are–in my opinion–too many middle men (and women) in insurance. That surely drives costs up. One layer is made up of brokers, who work for the consumer and whose job it is to shop around and find the best deal for the consumer. A percentage of the profits go to those people. Then there are the agents or marketing people who work for the insurance companies and whose job it is to attract business to the company and build relationships with brokers. A certain percentage of profits go to them. If one day those middle people can be taken out of the picture and replaced with a more efficient interface, rates will be lower.

Another misconception is that claims adjudicators look for ways not to pay claims. I have not worked at a property & casualty insurance company, but I can say that my experience with one life / health / disability company and two travel insurance companies contradicts this suspicion. The adjudicators alongside of whom I’ve worked were compassionate people who looked for ways to pay claims unless they had good reason to suspect fraud.

I enjoy my new job. One of the most fulfilling aspects of it are the daily opportunities I have to interact with people who are going through or have just gone through a stressful situation. They are either visiting Canada from another country or live in Canada and visited another country. They have lost luggage or had a trip cancelled due to weather or a death in the family or illness. Or they got sick while abroad. Or they were in an accident.

I have a chance to make a small difference through compassion, patience and kindness. An elderly woman calls and apologizes for bothering me, but she needs help filling out the claim form. I assure her she can call me as many times as she needs to, that’s my job.

I’ve had several claims that on the surface appeared not to be payable. After I went over the wording of the policy very carefully, however, I judged them to have merit and was able to convince my supervisor of this.

Another satisfying aspect of the job is sending people their money as quickly as I can. Many times the foreign hospital won’t honour a brand of insurance they’ve never heard of, so the patient has to pay out of pocket then be reimbursed by us.  I try to remember that not everyone has enough money in the savings account to afford an emergency room visit.  Their credit card statement is due and they need that money back.

A friend once marvelled at my ability to work for an insurance company… to “sell out” in that way, to be part of the evil system.

I take comfort knowing I am making the system a little less evil in my own small way.

Needs

Olivia and Rick and I have been talking about the complaint-free challenge. For me, today was the quintessential example of how it can work when I am through and through true to myself.

First, I slept for as long as I wanted. During the week I stick pretty rigidly to an early bedtime and early rising time, but I was feeling a desire to languish under the covers today, so I did. I probably overdid it, because I ended up feeling sluggish and very “hermity,” if you’ll allow me to invent a word.

After breakfast at Darjeeling Cafe with Sylvain, I felt a strong need to be alone. I didn’t want anyone talking to me or even looking at me. And so I explained my mood to Sylvain and took off. I spent the next few hours at the downtown library reading the last chapters of Transformational Weight Loss. How very timely these last chapters are.

From Chapter 21: Because I Want to ~

One of the best things I have ever done for my body and my life was to stop justifying everything I do. To need to justify everything is slavery. You might be familiar with that mentality in your eating, justifying everything according to how many calories or fat or carbs it has, or if it is “good for you”, or what else you ate that day or did that day to deserve it.

The goal of this book is to eventually replace all those justifications with a single, new justification—or actually, a non-justification. The only reason you need to do anything is, “Because I want to.” That is where the Three Mantras of Food Sanity will take you. Because your sensitivity to your true wants will grow as you devote attention to the feelings associated with food, “because I want to” will evolve over time. Soon you will no longer say, “I’m not having ice cream because it is bad for me and has 380 calories.” You will say, “I’m not having any, because I just don’t want to.”

Or, as the case may be, you will no longer say, “I am going to have some ice cream because I ate a small dinner and worked out today and besides, I’m feeling sad and I need some.” You will say, “I am going to have some ice cream, because I want to.”

As with food, so with life. That feeling of “I hardly dare believe it is true” can extend to give license to live your true desires. As with food, nothing bad is going to happen to you when you cease the effort of control. You will be cast into a new world, and that can be scary. Remember the fallacy inherent in the word “selfish”—it implies that the self is bad. Is life a struggle or isn’t it? You decide. I, for one, am tired of the struggle. And so I gave it up, and life changed in ways I could hardly have imagined.

Unconsciously, I had been living in a slave relationship to my spouse, to my work, and to all the people around me. Always seeking to please others, I didn’t even know what my true desires were. If asked, “What restaurant do you want to go to?” I would immediately try to figure out what would please the other. I did not realize that people have a real desire to please me, just as much as I desire to please them. One of life’s greatest pleasures is to please another person, and it is a generous gift to allow another the opportunity to please you. But I had been in a different kind of pattern. One day I decided I was going to live for myself. I remember it was a small thing. I changed my mind about a trip, and I was asked to justify myself. “Why are you changing your mind? I was expecting you to go. You said that. You can’t change your mind without a good reason.” But I had no reason to offer except, “Because I want to.” I could hardly bear to say those words for my fear, but I think that was the most liberating sentence I ever spoke.

It is hard for me to walk away from people who enjoy my company and spend hours by myself without feeling guilty, without feeling a need to justify.  I feel I have to say, “because if I don’t, I’ll go crazy.” Why let it get to that point?  Why not be proactive and give myself the gift of solitude I know I need daily, and give it to myself before I get to the nervous breakdown point?

I can’t get as much solitude as I need on work days, so–much like catching up on sleep–today I caught up on alone time.  Tomorrow is my chores day, so I know I won’t be able to get away from other humans very much on Sunday.

I came back from the library in time for supper, but I STILL was not ready to be with people.  I had grocery shopping to do for tomorrow’s meal, and so I told Sylvain I was headed out again.  He asked me if he could come along and I–not being true to myself–said, “sure, okay.”

“Or would you rather go by yourself?” he asked.

“I’d rather go by myself,” I said, so relieved that he was thoughtful enough to ask me this when I had not been thoughtful enough of myself to say it in the first place.

I turned on the radio in the car to find Garrison Keillor in the middle of his Lake Wobegon monologue. This tickled me pink. I haven’t been where I could listen to NPR regularly in nearly 8 years.  I bounced in the seat with glee.  When it was over, my voice joined Garrison’s in chiming:  ” where all the women are strong, all the men are good looking, and all the children are above average.”

Pushing a shopping cart up and down the aisles of a grocery store is for me very relaxing.  Nobody talks to me.  I can go as slowly as I want.  I can look at everything, daydream, go back to the natural foods section three times if I so choose.  My time is my own.

By the time I got back into my car, the voice that came over the airwaves was that of Fiona Ritchie.  FIONA! Wow, I’ve missed Fiona and her weekly Celtic music show, The Thistle and Shamrock.

I came back to the house feeling entirely recharged and ready…finally…to be with others.  I gave Sylvain a big hug and a kiss.  Not because I needed to make him feel loved, not because I would feel guilty if I didn’t.  I did it because I WANTED TO.  I was true to myself today, and the result was that when I finally was ready to be with other humans, I was truly ready.  I was eager.  I had energy for it.

For me, this is what the Complaint-free Challenge has taught me.  It’s what Eisenstein echoes in his last 3 chapters.  More from him:

You can be free. A free person does what she wants. “What about responsibility?” you might ask. Just like everything else that is healthy or good, we see responsibility as yet another struggle against desire. That too is an illusion. It can be a pleasure to meet your responsibilities. Those that it is not a pleasure to meet, well, you might begin to question whether they truly serve your interests or the interests of people around you. Have you ever oh-so-irresponsibly quit a job, or started showing up late and gotten fired, only to find a new occupation that never would have appeared had you been at the old job?

It may also be that the same confusion that affects food also affects other areas of life, so that you don’t really know what gives you pleasure. I find it pleasurable to serve the needs of my children, even to clean up my 2-year-old’s “accidents”. I find it pleasurable to make good food for them and to wash the dishes. You can access this pleasure by focusing your attention on the real purpose of what you are doing, the real motivation. You can even choose which of your many complex motivations you will focus on, and begin to see everything you do as a gift. Try it, it feels really good!

In his book Nonviolent Communication, Marshall Rosenberg offers a great way to access the real purpose of the things we think we “have to” do. He suggests replacing all “have to” sentences with “I choose to… because….” The unconscious habit of saying “I have to” is central in stripping us of our sovereignty over our lives. When I first became aware of this habit, I was amazed at how many times an hour or a minute I would say “I have to.” Now I follow Rosenberg’s advice. If I catch myself saying, “I have to go home and make dinner now,” I rephrase it as, “I choose to go home and make dinner now, because it is my joy to feed my children healthy food prepared with love.” Other times, I may discover that the “have to” doesn’t have a solid foundation in my joy or desire. When you replace, “I have to stay married” with “I choose to stay married because I am afraid of people judging me,” then you might be moved to make a different choice. There is no more fooling yourself that you have to.

And now I choose to go to bed.

A Few Things of Little Import

I wonder when my Amazon package will arrive? I am just coming to the end of the three books I’ve been reading (two bedside, one I read on my lunch breaks) and so I’ll be ready for that package any day now.  If you’re interested in which three books I’m finishing and what I thought of them, you can check out Karen’s 52 Books Blog.  I reported on A Return to Love, Transformational Weight Loss and The Sociopath Next Door.

My car has a name.  I was sitting in the driver’s seat enjoying the hot stone spa treatment on my often sore lower back, pondering possible names, including the ones you all so kindly suggested–plus a few of my own–when out of the blue she told ME what her name is.  Sophie.  So I said, “Oh, okay.  Well, hello, Sophie.  Nice to meet you.”

Some people with OCD like to make lists.  Here is a list of all the cars I’ve had.  Many of them were given or loaned to me by my step-father to drive around after he picked them up for a song and fixed them but before he found a buyer.  Or something like that.

• 1972 VW Karmann Ghia named Starchild
• 1968 VW Bug named Li’l Bug
• 1972 Mercedes diesel not sure what model – no name
• 1978? Mazda RX-7  (loaner – no name)
• 1988 Yugo named Victor (get it?)
• 1986 Mazda 323 hatchback – no name
• 2008 VW City Golf named Sophie

One small but notable thing from this week: I received and filled out my absentee ballot for the Arkansas primary.

Oh, and Sylvain has signed us up for one of those services that ships you movies on DVD and we are looking for titles to put on our rental list.  What are your top “must see” films?  I especially love indie films, quirky stuff… and we don’t mind subtitles.

Five Good (Very Good) Things

Carla inspired this post about five really good things about this week.

1. I returned to my bubble of golden light via counting consecutive days of not complaining, criticizing, whining or gossipping. Oh, I feel better already… solid and grounded and calm and good.
2. Every day I enjoy my job more. Today one of our nurses called me and asked, “You speak Spanish, right?” “Supposedly,” I answered. “I’m rusty, but yes, I do.” She asked me to make a phone call to Mexico for her and I did. I spent a few minutes with my huge honkin’ Oxford Spanish dictionary just to make sure I knew how to say “fax” and “medical release form,” then made the call. The person on the other end had no trouble understanding me and I had no trouble understanding her. Whew!
3. The energy between me and my sweetheart is especially good now. I feel as if a particularly stressful phase of our relationship is falling behind us. He tells me he is going to miss our drives to and from my work together, but he is really excited for me–what with my new wheels and all.
4. I picked up my new car tonight. I don’t know a lot about cars, but people keep telling Sylvain (who passes it onto me) that I did well to get a VW–and one with heated seats and a good sound system and all sorts of other cool jazz–for under $20K. She is black and very shiny. She needs a name now, and I am open to suggestions.
5. It is nice to come home from work to a house that is filled with the fragrance of home cooking. That is a blessing. I try always to remember to stop and smell what’s on the plate and reflect where it came from before I dig in. From the farmers to the pickers to the cook, a lot of love goes into that plate of food, and I hope I never take that for granted.

Breathing Day 69, a Return to Not Complaining

It’s been about a week that I’ve been letting myself complain and gossip and criticize and whine every time the mood strikes me.  And you know what?  I miss the other me.  I miss the golden bubble that surrounded me.  I miss the equanimity.  I miss the little smile on my lips.

Sylvain misses the complaint-free energy, too.

“I mean, it cracked me up the other night when you said that woman was driving you f_ing nuts, but… “  he said to me tonight.  It cracked him up because such an outburst had become uncharacteristic of me.

Tonight after Sunday Check-in I told Sylvain that I want to start counting days again tomorrow.  I asked him for his support, especially in the area of gossip.  We sat there talking about how it feels when I’m on the GWCC wagon and how it feels when I’m not.  The negativity surrounding me when I’m not is palpable.

Sylvain made an interesting observation.  When he complains about something, it’s a quick venting and then it’s gone.  He’s done with it.

Not me.

When I gripe about something, the negativity sucks me in like a vortex.  For me, negativity is like a little demon always waiting for me to toss it a few crumbs.  As soon as I do, little demon doubles in size and gets hungrier.  And peskier.  It nags and nips at my heels until I feed it again. Then it doubles in size again. Pretty soon there is this huge, skulking monster filling the whole house.

I say goodbye to this past week of exploring negativity, letting it run wild and free.  I thank negativity for visiting me and for all it taught me about myself.

I welcome a fresh new day tomorrow.

Day One.

Fahrvergnügen

This week was sprinkled with fun things.

This Jen Lemen poster came in the mail. Home or office? Hmmmm.

I splurged on magazines.

I dressed for work all in grey (grey turtleneck, skirt and tights) but for RED shoes.

I went with my sweetheart to WindsorFolk presents: showcase concert. That was really fun. I especially enjoyed sprite-like Erin Gignac, whose face reminded me of Bjork and Janis Joplin but whose music was reminiscent of the Be Good Tanyas and Suzanne Vega all rolled into one.

The young duo who followed them were a riot. One of their songs is called Canada is Really Big. They made me laugh a lot.

Yeah, it has been a fun week.

Oh, and I almost forgot.

I bought a car.

Not Complaining about Not Complaining

It is probably easy to think that we who are doing the GWCC challenge are hard on ourselves when we slip. I didn’t realize till I read the comments that I’d conveyed that.  I really wasn’t disappointed in myself at all.  Hey, I went 24 days, which is 3 days longer than the original 21 days proposed in the book.  It takes the average person four to eight months to achieve that.

Slipping and starting again at day one is no big deal.  It’s really not the number of days that becomes important to you once you engage in this challenge.  It’s the process and the observing and learning that come to the forefront.  Oh, and the shift in the weight of the energy around you.
The reason I decided not to start counting days again right away was that I realized I had more self-care issues to address before I should start again.  I was and am doing wonderfully when it comes to enough sleep, my eight glasses of water a day (they keep the under-eye wrinkles away!) and basics like that.  Getting my alone time is a bit harder in winter without a car, but I’m doing okay there. Not great, but okay with plans in the works.  Once Sylvain and I opened up a dialogue about car shopping and the possibility of my moving to an apartment in the spring, my crankiness evaporated.  He is VERY keen to help me with the car decision… which model, whether to lease or buy, where to go to test drive.  See, he’s a CAR GUY.  It’s what he does for a living, too. He deals with vehicle technology info all day long and he likes it.

All of you who said that forgiveness is important are bang on.  I like the way Tolle puts it in one of the YouTube videos I watched. He talks about how consciousness means to welcome the present moment.  But let’s say you miss that chance to say yes to what is and you catch yourself resisting reality.  You’re irritated with the traffic jam, for example.  Well, then you have a second chance to accept what is by accepting your irritation.  Say yes to your irritation.  That’s okay. I am irritated.  Let there be irritation. I allow my irritation.  Now you’ve put a yes on top of the no, which transmutes it.  That is forgiveness.

I almost always remember now…as soon as I catch myself resisting something that is (something that for now cannot be left or changed), to forgive myself for the resistance by breathing mindfully and watching my resistance.  Often this leads to a good chuckle at my ego’s expense.

Even during this short hiatus before I start counting GWCC days again, I clearly feel how changed I am by the practice.  It is powerful and it is freeing. My ego has soooo much less power over me now than before.  I am freer to be happy and feel much more the master of my emotions and thoughts instead of being at their mercy.  I also feel I am contributing good energy to my environment, at home, at work and out in the world.

—–

I had two powerful dreams this week.  Both were in the new year and both were drastically different from my usual dreams. I take them as a very good sign. In the first dream I am looking down on a long canal with shallow water and a mud bottom.  My younger brother, Mike, is sitting in the water in his swim trunks.  I think my mom is there, too.  There are young men on personal watercraft and there are dolphins.  Yes, dolphins.  I am worried about the dolphins for fear the guys on the water scooters are going to crash into the dolphins and hurt them, but after some time observing, I see that isn’t happening.

When I woke up I asked myself what dolphins mean to me.  The first thing that came to my mind was that they can use echolocation to “see” who has sickness inside their bodies and they can help heal the sick person with little nudges of their bills. Did you know that? Yes, they can detect tumours and blockages, slight nerve problems or spinal misalignments, etc. and they have helped people with chronic pain.

The next night I dreamed a woman was lying on a blanket on the grass in front of me…lying prone like a patient in just underwear and I was holding my hands a couple of inches over her body, palms down.  I was supposed to move my hands in a clockwise circular motion …the left hand over her heart and my right hand over her solar plexus.  It took me a minute to get the hang of how to move my hands (I’m right/left challenged even in my dreams.)  When I felt my hands become heavier and heavier with the bad energy, I would move my hands over the grass and shake off that bad energy like I was shaking off water.  Then I would repeat the process.

I awoke just amazed at this dream in which I was healing someone with my hands. Wow!  I don’t think I’ve ever dreamed anything quite like that before.

Two dreams in a row of healing.  And if Jung had it right that each character in our dream is a part of us, then a part of me is currently healing another part of me.

Fun?

Thank you all from the bottom of my heart for all your wise and supportive and loving words after my last post.

I want you to know that I didn’t kick myself for burning the salmon loaf. I just said to Sylvain, “The salmon burned and I need to run out and get a cooked chicken at the store. Want to come?”

The complaint-free challenge has been amazing for showing me where I am not taking good care of myself.  Each slip is a chance to examine the trigger behind that slip. I think Carla and Rick hit it bang on. What am I doing for fun?  I’ve been so busy just trying to survive my new living situation, I haven’t thought about fun in a long, long time. I see now that that is a mistake that needs quickly to be rectified.

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When I first moved to Windsor from Waterloo, I was not a happy camper.  I missed my funky Uptown, my organic grocery, my indie bookstore, my indie cinema and my job–all within easy walking or biking distance from my house. In those early days, I whined.  A LOT.

I knew I was stuck for at least as long as it took me to find a job–stuck living with these people whose lifestyle is so very different from the one I had carved out for myself after decades of learning what is good for me and what isn’t good for me.

I was spiralling into depression. I was miserable all the time.  Everything around me was driving me crazy.  Literally everything about the household irritated me…from how the dishes and pots and pans were stored to Ma’s tendency to buy four of everything.  My OCD was making a huge comeback.

Then in October I took The Power of Now with me on holidays to Arkansas.  It was in the pages of that book that I found salvation.

“People believe themselves to be dependent on what happens for their happiness, that is to say, dependent on form.  They don’t realize that what happens is the most unstable thing in the universe.  It changes constantly.  They look upon the present moment as either marred by something that has happened and shouldn’t have or as deficient because of something that has not happened but should have.  And so they miss the deeper perfection that is inherent in life itself, a perfection that is always already here, that lies beyond what is happening  or not happening, beyond form.”  — A New Earth, p. 213

As I read Tolle’s books, I could see myself when he described those people who are always waiting for something to happen before they can start living.  I had been completely in my head for months, my ego spinning a tale of how I could start to be happy again once I had my own apartment. I HAD to get away from these people and their pantry overflowing with Lipton soup mixes and the blobs of jam on the place mats.

I was read that ego is all about being better or being worse than someone else.  Or it’s about how this place or this moment is better than another.  Someone trapped in mind thinks there is a better moment out there in the future, a more important one.  Ah, I saw myself doing that.  The thing is…yes, maybe you ARE in an unbearable situation and maybe you DO need to take action to change it or leave it.  BUT… unless you first become conscious… if you leave in negativity… you will only take your problem with you and re-create it in the next place.  First accept, then act.  ???!!!  And so I knew that I had to make friends with this–the current situation–before I could leave it.  I knew there was a reason for it, a purpose.  I wanted to become supple and yield to the lessons that were buried in this seemingly impossible situation.

I discovered that by doing what Patti describes in her comment on the last post, I could find joy in any circumstance.   I began to accept what was happening to me.  I began to let go of those stories that my ego had assembled around itself…of Kelly as someone who only eats brown basmati and doesn’t watch television, for example.  I understood that my ego needed breaking down and old stories needed to be released in order to make room for something new.  I didn’t know and still don’t know what that new growth will look like.  But I came to understand that the depression was a natural reaction to a stripping away of everything I once took to be “me.”  But I would yield to that breaking down and give myself to the process. Observe the pain.  Cry if I needed to cry, but keep one foot on the side of the observer watching Kelly cry.

The Complaint-free challenge was a gift that could not have come at a better time.  This practice paired with mindful breathing helped me reach a state of mind that was completely transformed from what it was before my trip to Arkansas.  I saw that this situation was bursting with material to use in my new spiritual practice.  I no longer cringed when Sylvain’s mom came into the den for the fifteenth time that day to show me something or tell me something.  I used it as a chance to practice compassion.

The miracle is that it worked. I started excitedly sharing with Sylvain the techniques I was using that resulted in my feeling loving toward every event, every human… where just weeks before the same events and humans had me feeling homicidal.

So what happened?  I’ve been thinking about what all of you said to that last post and I’ve come to a couple of conclusions.  For one, yes, I most definitely need some fun in my life.  I haven’t made new friends here yet, so it’s going to be a bit hard at first. But I have to find some fun somehow.  It’s also harder now because it’s winter, so I can’t pop out on my bicycle and spend a few hours in my favourite wi-fi cafe downtown like I did during the warm months. So I have to think more about that.  I have, however, asked Sylvain to put Folk Music Club Night on the calendar for the first Friday of every month.  That should be fun!

The second thing I am beginning to realize is this. Tolle says that welcoming what IS doesn’t mean you cannot make plans. In fact, what is right for you to do in this moment might be sitting down and taking that first step to change or leave an unbearable situation.  I am having a terrifically hard time with the decisions around when and whether to buy or lease a car as well as when to look for my own apartment.

More about that later.  For now I want to focus more on reintroducing fun to my life.