Neither Here Nor There

Everything in my life right now seems to be neither here nor there. I have moved into a place called limbo. I don’t yet like it here but I’m not so sure it’s worse than where I was. Once an audience member approached Tolle after a talk and said, “I don’t know who I am anymore.” Eckhart replied, “congratulations.”

My once satisfying job is now riding through a period of chaos while new middle management tries to introduce structure and common sense. You may wonder how I could be so happy before. My outgoing supervisor was masking a lot of the problems. I was blissfully unaware of the shit that would hit the fan as soon as he was no longer there to sweep it under the carpet.

Some days I can still find enjoyment, some days are pure hell. The day I was supposed to sign for the condo lease (Sylvain blogged about that) was the most hellish day of all. I ended up locking myself in a bathroom stall to cry off the stress. I realized I didn’t want to commit to a 12-month lease that night. No, there is too great a psychological advantage to knowing that if the BS gets to be too much to bear, I can tell them what to do with their crazy work environment.

There is a glimmer of hope that my new supervisor, teamed with the process gurus in the parent company, can turn things around. I could end up very glad I didn’t jump ship. In fact, I have been known to find process re-engineering loads of fun. I am what is known as an early buy-in. Nevertheless, I am passively scanning the job ads.

It is yet another area of my life where I’m currently not happy but am not entirely invested in the idea of leaving. Yet.

Wait and see. Wait and see. Be here now, even though here doesn’t feel like anywhere.

I am no longer miserable trying to live in a house with four other humans, but I’m not exactly happy, either. With ego taming, the OCD calms down. Fantasies of my own place appointed with only the bare essentials in order to render an orderly, zen-like space less frequently kidnap my mind. I am still surrounded by other people’s clutter, but it has stopped making me quite so crazy.

Even this blog is an example. I no longer feel motivated to write or read a lot, but I don’t want to abandon it altogether, either.

Every morning I still awaken with a sense of dread. Why exactly am I here? What was the point of this again, can you remind me? I do my best to ease into the day being tender with myself. I take my Omega-3 fish oil caps. I put a drop of Clary Sage oil on my pulse points. I remind myself to breathe, to be and just to be. To show up, just show up. And to TRUST the wisdom of the Universe. By late afternoon I’m usually feeling okay and by evening I may even be smiling. Then it starts all over again the next morning.

Dyer’s book Manifest Your Destiny is helping me remember throughout the day that I am not, as ego would like me to believe, separate from my environment. I am the grass and the clouds. When I have a judging thought about a co-worker who strikes me as lazy, I remember we are one. We are humanity. In judging her, I am judging myself.

Dyer himself says that once you realize what comes from ego, you are faced with a quagmire of paradoxes. I can catch myself turning up my nose at something and say, “likes and dislikes are of the ego.” But even that labelling of something in myself as “of the ego” is also of the ego. More categorizing, more labelling, more judging.

Oddly enough, my dreams are good. I have a long, long history of nomad dreams in which I am travelling from place to place with nowhere to lay my head, no money in my pocket for a meal, no car. Buses keep passing by without stopping to pick me up.

A few nights ago I dreamed I inherited a huge, beautiful house. It was like a California house where 50-something ex hippies had once lived. The kitchen was half open air and lead up to a big, rain-bleached deck. The former owners had left behind a beautiful big driftwood and fiber arts sculpture that adorned the wall high over the kitchen/living room. They also had left an ancient plant whose vines extended for yards up near the skylights. I noticed it had not been watered for a while but was still alive. My heart swelled with joy when I realized this.

Two nights ago I dreamed I was living in a mansion and there were some classy looking criminals outside who I knew wanted to come in and steal something. One rang the bell. I pondered whether to open the door and become vulnerable to his pushing his way inside. I opted to take the risk and used the opportunity to say to him, “I know you plan to break in and I probably can’t stop you. Take whatever you’re after. Take the diamonds if you want them. I would appreciate it if you would not take the Djembe, though. It’s only worth $200. Leave me that.”

This is so odd for me to have a dream in which I am in control, so confident, calling the shots.

Again last night, a good dream. I am outside at a water park and children are everywhere. I notice an alligator loose in the place and so I get all the children to come over into another pool. The gator starts to crawl out of the enclosure where it is now alone and join the children on my side, but I fend it off with a lawn chair or something. Then a large, muscular male staff member comes and takes over the situation.

I ponder these good dreams. My subconscious is signalling to me that although my life may feel to me to be sad and without aim, things are actually headed in the right direction. My ego certainly can’t see it that way, as so many things dear to ego have been stripped away.

But there is something good coming of it. Dreams don’t lie.