Author: Grace

What a fabulous five night being so fully and deeply occupied by the annual January Eating Peace Retreat. Followed by a huge wild insurgence of webinars and all the activity of people joining Eating Peace Experience.

Deep breath.

Life moves at a high pace at times.

And yet this moment here, always, is OK. If the mind is not overly involved or desperate for something else right now, all is well. Slowness can even happen in this present moment.

As you can see, I just needed to do The Work right on the spot as I began writing today.

Mind says “Writing? No time. Expanding? No more room. Reducing? Not possible. Too much of this, not enough of that. Never just right.”

That’s the mind’s motto.

I’m reminded of it since the eating peace group has just begun especially.

With eating, or other substances or processes we love like TV, shopping, traveling, drinking, distracting, relationship-hunting, improving, smoking, fantasizing….

….the never-ending impulses of the mind create excitement, fear, worry, dread, self-pity, anger, criticism, depression, avoidance.

Wow, it’s a circus in here!

Thank goodness for The Work.

Because then, I can start with the predicament on top, the one disturbing me now–just starting with one, not over-thinking which “problem” to work on–simply beginning  with one.

Recently I had a meeting with an important mentor of mine I only see maybe once a year, sometimes longer in between.

We talked about my business and this service of doing work in the world, sharing, offering, working with this inner life.

And there I was telling her an old favorite story.

It’s almost embarrassing to speak of, since it reveals insecurity, worry, doubt, mistrust of life, disappointment, discouragement. (Noticing embarrassment = revealing inadequacy = clear imperfection = unworthy = I Am These Qualities).

It’s like a core belief is revealed: if you have doubt, fear, anxiety, insecurity….it means you are bad.

Forever.

LOL.

But back to the story (I stalled for a minute, did you see that)?

This wise mentor suggested to me when we met “you have a pattern of thinking you will be ruined, it seems.”

Ruined?

Ay me.

That word. Ruined.

I can hear it and find the drama in the mind.

Ruined financially. Ruined in divorce. Ruined physically from an accident or damage to the body. Day ruined. Bank account ruined. Relationship ruined. Life ruined.

Wow. That’s rough.

Of course I had to look up the word ruin and the etymology and formulation of the word: rough, collapse, decay, disrepair, falling into neglect, a building no longer standing.

Rue, to make sorry, to grieve, to affect with deep sorrow, mourn, lament. Rue, a strong-smelling plant.

And suddenly, through my own inner sense of feeling–the key to the thinking–I saw ruin as a feeling within.

Grief. Sorrow. Regret.

To hold our regrets inside can be so difficult when the mind works over them, again and again.

So good to have self-inquiry.

Find a place where you believe you were ruined, or someone else was, or you notice the fear of ruination in the future.

I was financially ruined (in my divorce).

Is it true?

No.

Yes, I had no money. Yes, everything in the material world I knew appeared to be gone.

But the story that went with it (I am not safe, this will last forever, I’ll never get ahead, I’ll never love again)….

….that was not true.

I’m breathing. I made it. Here we are.

What happens when you believe in ruin? When you regret?

Very painful. Images of the past–when you’re sure it was better. Here come those pictures and images. Here comes the grief.

Here comes the thinking “I should get over this and stop having PTSD about money, I should be someone different.”

Who would I be without this thought?

Noticing the quiet moment here, on a laptop, grey day, new year, tearful with memories, appreciating those in the past I once knew. Noticing everything comes and goes.

Noticing the odd “accident” of googling something in Ireland and landing on my former father-in-law’s obituary page and seeing he died this exact same date five years ago.

Without the belief in ruin, I simply watch the parade of pictures in my mind, and see the astonishing benefit of this day today, and that grief is OK.

I can remember if my mind says to me “ruined!” I might wonder what I feel sorrow for today, and the bitter taste of strong-smelling sorrow.

Turning the thought around: I am not ruined, I was not ruined. (This is 100% true–here I am–life went on apparently). The grief didn’t destroy me, the sorrow didn’t make me always bitter. I sometimes find life incredibly funny, and laughter bubbles up.

I also notice “I am” can never be ruined. It’s been here the whole time, unfazed.

It says, ‘Yah yah, you were born, you grew up, you got married, divorced, succeeded with money, failed with money, failed, succeeded, yadda yadda yadda….did you notice how beautiful this room is, and how strange and mysterious the sky out the window? Oh and by the way, I’ve got a new joke….

Turning the thought around again: My thinking is ruined.

And that’s some fantastic news.

It’s outdated, crumbling, in decay and decline. It focuses on the past and projects what happened there into the future. It collapses every night for some rest, and often during the day as well. It chatters away and then forgets about whatever it said.

Except for the thinking, all is well indeed.

Everything is being born.

“Where there is ruin, there is hope for treasure.” ~ Rumi

Every “ruined” situation I encountered brought something precious and invaluable: No money showed me the generosity of others, the amazing support and surprise of people. Relationship gone showed me new potential and new possibilities. Body damaged brought me trust and rest and slowing down, and poetry.

“Where you stumble, there lies your treasure” ~ Joseph Campbell. 

Much love,

Grace