There’s a simple exercise I mention and offer when working with people in the eating peace process (a course to look at our eating behaviors and wonder about them in a new way).
I call it the “shhhhhhhh” exercise.
Kind of like a jumping jack, when it comes to calisthenics.
Only all it involves is raising your pointer finger to your lips and making the sound “shhhhhhh” which means to be quiet.
“Shhhhhh”.
When things get a little loud, chaotic, out of tune, blaring.
A re-mind-er to the thinking brain to settle down, quiet, stop fussing with all it’s antics about what has gone wrong and what could go wrong or any other fodder its suggesting, that creates nervous (or worse) energy.
When I say “shhhhhh” in a gentle way like this, I get to pause, relax, and open to what’s visiting.
As I sit, I see images flow through like clips from movies, happening now, yesterday, last week, in the future, ten years ago….
*one hundred participants gathered in a hall all seated on the floor cross-legged, many heads of pitch-black hair all facing forward. I see from my position on the floor the teacher sharing with us in his soft and very thick Indian accent, in English.
*crows cawing and flying in a crowd just outside the living room window dawn
*sun beams creating stripes on the pale yellow wall to my right
*hearing sweet voices and speaking into my computer on my lap in the middle of a wet afternoon about inquiry on money and feeling compassion for the suffering and worrying…wishing I might grant peace with a magic wand and noticing a thought that this is inadequate
*a cup of tea filled to the brim….only now, it’s empty….but it could be full again later this afternoon
Seeing the physical things around me, remembering the physical things that once were around me, anticipating and projecting things around me, later.
Who would we be without our stressful, certain-they’re-true stories?
We may still be story-tellers…
….thrilled with the moment, carrying on, feeling the full feelings of life, celebrating, sorrowing, grieving, being very quiet, living this particular life with all it’s mystery and curiosity and strangeness….
….loving what is.
We’d be remembering how lovely a story is, and that it is a story.
We’d be honoring the story to the depths of our hearts, and respecting the stories we’ve lived, without rejecting, condemning, denying, or hating them.
“People who deny the existence of dragons are often eaten by dragons. From within.” ~ Ursula Le Guin (thank you for your contributions and RIP).
The thing I love most about The Work is turning towards the story.
I see the thing I’m most opposed or upset about, the trouble. I look at it closely. I answer the Judge Your Neighbor questions about it, without trying to change it, expecting immediate answers, or fixing myself.
I judge, I look, I scream, shout, cry the story and I hear myself tell it. I’m in the story.
I can see then, what it is.
A story. A great, wonderful, beautiful, tragic story.
But not one that is True to the end of time. Not ever. There’s always a new chapter.
There’s always the Don’t Know mind.
How loving that is.
Much love,
Grace
P.S. My website is still down. And I missed at least 48 hours worth of emails that all got deleted. Yes, it could be a Grace Note. Coming soon!