Calm

 There's the obvious ebb and flow of the four seasons that make up a year, maybe the ebb and flow of an academic year. There's the ebb and flow of the work week and the weekend, depending on your work schedule, and, of course, the ebb and flow of the daytime hours and the nighttime hours. 

Unless we pay attention, we take these changes for granted, unless you've trained yourself to notice, perhaps, that time of day when you make yourself a cup of coffee, or when you notice the sun start to be lower in the sky, or when it is getting dark, and you turn on a salt lamp.

 It's like someone actually making a note on a piece of paper to remember something, except this time, it's a mental note such as 'we are moving towards evening'. I think of it as being in sync with the Universe.

In a similar way, you might notice the ebb and flow of your energy levels; when you feel energized to complete tasks and when you need to rest. You might notice that having sat for a long period, you have a desperate desire to move your body. We aren't exactly dictating these things but rather we are noticing what is going on with us.

I noticed this morning, consciously noted, that my brain was different. I don't mean that something changed overnight, as I am sure it did not. I have half consciously noted a difference for a few weeks, perhaps, a rapidly rising difference that seems to be developing into a trait; that is, not a state, but a trait.

Various psychologists and spiritual leaders will talk about practicing states until they become traits. The example I like best is Ian Gawler who likes to say when asked how long one should meditate: Meditate until you no longer need to meditate.  That is to say, we can practice in the qualities of a state until it simply is a trait; part of us; a permanent change, so to speak.

For years I was aware I found my situation at home frustrating. I would attempt discussion about something only to find myself being closed down; I would hear an automatic rejection of what I was saying simply because I was saying it. It wasn't about everything, but it was often about something that my husband felt could be construed as his domain, a man's domain.

I came to feel that discussion was potentially dangerous and would make me feel worse rather than better. Discussion became something I avoided if I thought this would happen.

I think what happened to change the situation was the clearing out of his trauma, or a lot of it because once that happened, we had a chance to effect change.

Still, change was not going to happen without the trait of calm in me. I knew this down to my bones. I could lay it all out, but the reasons why don't really matter. 

I am aware I still experience frustration. For one thing, it had become part of my default network, a bit akin to breathing. I in no way experience only the feel-good emotions.

And yet, now I experience an emotion such as frustration as something in the background, not the foreground. This is the same as experiencing thoughts and emotions in meditation as in the background, not the foreground. Let's say, you see the balloon filled with frustration, but you can't keep hold of the string and it just floats away.

That's awfully strange, I think to myself, how come the balloon just blew away?

My husband is calmer. This helps me to be calm, for sure, but he is far from always calm, and I am nearly always calm now. 

I ponder, is this what they call 'Acceptance'? I think of a variety of people with a variety of personality differences, some wonderful and some not, and no matter who I think about, I think, 'this is what it is'. It's this mind-blowing trait wherein I feel so calm nearly all the time that I find myself thinking of the story of Eckhart Tolle where a former housemate said it was like living with someone in flotation gear.

To be clear, I am not just hanging around meditating. I move from mental to physical tasks and back again with relative ease, profoundly aware of what I have control over and what is completely outside of my control. It's all good. This is fine.

I go through periods where I am sometimes ravenously sexually hungry and then find it moves to something else eventually.  I have come to accept that what floats my boat is something over which I appear to have no control, until I do. I've learned a lot, and my mind discriminates well now. I understand these little nods to my natural persuasions; the biology of it. It is what it is.

There's a man on the streets of NYC who asks people of a certain age what it's like to be 52, or 66 or 79? They come up with amazing answers on the spot all of which relate to feeling more themselves now.

That's part of it, for sure. But I think it truly is this phenomenon of which Rick Hanson, Californian psychologist, talks; that when we practice certain desired states for long enough, they transform into traits. The brain changes, wires fire; transform.

Oddly, oh so oddly, boundaries are suddenly something that make so much sense. One still aims to please people but it's not the preoccupation it was before. One just feels so comfortable in this set of clothes; this skin.

I'm slightly terrified to write this. Will it change tomorrow? Have I jinxed it by writing these words here? I don't think so. I have worked hard at this for a good decade. It's a sense of peace well-earned and I pat myself on the back.

Mind/body reading

In the process of helping out a friend I recently volunteered to have my body 'read' to aid a student of mind/body practice. In the course of doing so it was determined that although I have an open 'third eye' and a particularly loving and giving heart - that is to say not all the chakras are blocked -  I have considerable pain stored in my body. Fundamentally, I hide from the world, so the student said.

Whether we are speaking symbolically or literally, I related to the message. I certainly didn't, nor couldn't refute her words. I grew up on the top floor of my parents' business, which they worked seven days a week. They were devoted to the business and to their marriage, so being hid away, out of sight and mind of men who went there to 'drown their sorrows' was central to my life.

This childhood of mine together with being born with a quiet, contemplative disposition was a complete mismatch. I needed nurturing, to be integrated with my parents before I could go out into the world to feel safe. Unfortunately, that didn't happen.

It was decided on the day of the reading that my intuition was high, an openness to new ideas apparent, but that this wisdom could be impeded by intellect. This is rather interesting to me since I am quite happy to become 'lost' in academia at the same time as I believe my value and truth is best explored through story - exploring the universality of being human on this earth, together with the specificity of character.

Also, if someone has been through the rigors of academic training the openness of ideas can only go so far before the mind springs back and asks about a person's qualifications to make certain statements. I will ultimately seek some sort of evidence; use my rational thinking mind to make an assessment about an alternative therapy.

In fact, I am by far the most joyous when I dance. My body craves rhythmic movement. There was no mention of this sort of thing, that this body that they were analyzing to death actually would have loved to move to the music in the background. I guess they were looking for the problems to fix. It's important to remember this when offered a therapy. We are all made up of attributes and deficits and a practitioner, almost by definition, will focus on the 'problem'.

Generalizations are not easy and there are always exceptions to a rule. Generally speaking, writers, particularly of fiction, hide away. That's what they do. Alone, they commune with the world through the process of writing about the world, based on their observations. They watch. They listen. They write. Apparently, I'm a watcher. No surprises there. In fact there were no surprises anywhere. I had to admit that the observations made of my body did line up for me, in one way or another. It was how the observations might be interpreted that was at issue.

I was labelled a 'submissive', not by the student who wouldn't have known that terminology but by the teacher of the student. I wasn't happy with the inference because it implied that in some way I wasn't being honest, part of the hiding. It also implied that I was not being my true self.

It's not straightforward because these sorts of people who bunker down into their modality of choice seem to suggest that there are choices when there are not necessarily choices at all. I didn't bother to say that to him exactly. I did say, 'Well, when you live with someone who insists on the dominant role, what other role is there?' I said it, not really in an open way, but in a 'let's deal with reality here, shall we?' way because two people can be sarcastic. I'm not the pushover he thinks I am.

The pushover thing, that was brought up too. My nose spoke to them, that there is a fire underneath the quiet disposition. Go too far and you'll meet my ire.That is not news to me either.

This 'combat' between the teacher and myself, some sort of effort to get me to react, was compounded in a physical way, a very strange minute. There was some doubt as to what to call my pelvis, a slightly 'tilting' pelvis perhaps. The string came out to better make that judgment until the teacher decided that the best way was to press on my pelvis. He did so, not in a careful doctor/nurse kind of way but with such force that I was in considerable pain and discomfort. An angry red weal formed on my skin. It still hurts as I write this in the middle of the night. Why did he do that?

Some of the material they wrote in their conclusions, I had offered to them, and they concurred. I told them that I had only recently played with the notion of self-love and was working on generating those feelings in myself. I was working on being a separate person, not enmeshed, not responsible for the decisions made without my input and with any desire for my input. Though, I was angry about that, the lack of input and I said that, but in a controlled way. I decided to remain controlled in a day of stupidity really.

In fact at times I actually chose to disassociate from what was happening to me. I chose not to listen as they said confronting things about me as if I wasn't there. I only really got angry when I left. I said my goodbyes hastily and rushed for my getaway car only to find the garage locked. Back in again to get the code and as the gates slowly drew open the thought of leaving prison entered my mind, how that's how it must feel, free from the clutches of people who could taunt and taint you.

I felt stuck, they concluded, not an unreasonable conclusion. I have a need for safety and that feeling hasn't been available to me for some time, and yet is leaving this place a safer place? To their credit there was no suggestion of this sort of thing, no attempt was made to 'solve' my dilemma outside of certain recommendations that related to deep tissue work and emotional release work to get at the locked emotional pain in my body.

As I sit here I ask of myself, 'are there negative emotions' stuck in the body?  I feel it in my throat quite regularly now and I could release it onto my mother but I don't and I won't. The constriction in my throat troubles me but it's not trapped either. It's just sitting there under the banner of 'frustration'. I see it for what it is. I work with it. I talk about it even but not to the person in question, that's all. That's reasonable, since she couldn't cope with any dissent or suggestion that her behavior hasn't been good enough.

In thinking more about this, that feeling in my throat, the constriction which they identified as 'soft tissue' also relates to my understanding over time that only intensified as we aged, that any idea I expressed to my husband would receive an immediate response. That is to say, his strong tendency towards verbal impulsivity meant that conversations could often be compromised. In the past few months, I had, I admit, given up trying.

I think my truth, something they seem to think I am keeping hidden, might actually be twofold. I'm a person trying to break free of the past, coming to terms with my past and unmet needs. I'm a person trying to break free of roles designated, putting other peoples' needs ahead of my own, such that it looks like I have no needs. I want my needs to be taken seriously. I want to feel nurtured in the same way that I have nurtured.

However, and this is the twofold aspect, there can be no doubt and there is no doubt in my own mind, that I revel in the submissive/feminine role. I feel most instinctively and naturally joyous when my heart, mind and nature is free to be me. I feel more naturally me in a dress or skirt, soft, light, free, content. This sense of abundance is felt in the submissive frame of mind which means, as I search for words that explain this feeling, that there is a dominant presence somewhere in my life, if only on the periphery.

There is the case for someone who is responsible or protective being identified as a dominant presence, but this isn't exactly what I mean. I acknowledge that no-one is rational all the time, or reasonable all the time, or even available or nurturing more than occasionally, due to their own needs and demands, or preoccupations. I take this into allowance because I must. But, acting dominant - responsible and protective - is not the quality that allows me a sense of freedom leading to a sense of submissive joy. A lawyer could be responsible and protective, or a doctor. There must be more.

To feel happy and content I need to feel safe. To feel safe, there must be calm, some element of steadiness as well as some acknowledgement of my presence. The truth is that if left to my own devices I would create the environment for myself and the life that felt most innately, creatively and aesthetically pleasing for myself and my loved ones. I really could do a better job of this than anyone else that I know. That I don't do this speaks to my submissive nature wherein I continue to allow sub-optimal outcomes to please other people's sensibilities above my own.

When I was in my late teens I was working as a part time waitress when a couple approached the Menu written on a blackboard. He was attentive to her, touching her and smiling at her. I thought, 'That's what I want, that attention and interest in my pleasure. I want to feel cherished.'

It's not having the spotlight on me, or needing someone to be there endlessly. Introverts don't want anyone there all the time. They feel they can't breathe when that happens. But, they do need regular little reminders of their worth. They do need to allow their light side to be given freedom to play; to levitate even. When the world is relatively calm such there is a sense of safety in this way, the path is cut for entry into the submissive space where I can glow on even the gloomiest day. All the body reading in the world won't pick up that subtle truth of mine. I'm not going to waste my time trying to explain to them what they don't want to learn. You on the other hand might just get it.

Whatever you want

It's been different since we went on vacation. My husband referred to it this morning as a 'circuit breaker'. He's been more demanding, which I love, and in turn I feel more myself, calm and at peace.

He says that I am happiest, and most fun to live with when I am reduced to the smallest possible entity; that the satisfaction that comes from that for me is life enriching; puts a huge smile on my face and allows me to glow with a sense of inner happiness.

It's true. I love to feel my place; to be a help-mate and to float along under the radar; with some responsibilities, naturally, but not making any big decisions. That's not my role.

There are rules and expectations. It must be this way. Truthfully, the dog and I have a slightly troubled relationship because we are so alike. We thrive when we receive plenty of attention, but when we know the pecking order too. We aim to look cute so that we receive love in spades and we are never happiest than when in close touch with the Owner. It's our nature to be so, and that's all there is to that, hence, as much as I love her, we are competitors. That's the truth.

Right now, I adore my life. I adore the feelings of togetherness, of solidarity to the one cause, and of feeling so comfortable in my skin. Surrendering seems so easy at times like this. Whatever you want. It really is so trouble at all.

Personal power

Living with someone who has turbulent emotions and constant mood swings is challenging. On any day, at any hour, you can never be quite sure what to expect; what 'issue' may have cropped up in their minds which requires them to emote into their atmosphere. There appears to be a sense of things buried in their bones that their problems need to be shared. There's an expectation that one is there to listen; that the carrying of life on their sleeve is the ways things must be and that it's normal for them, that they have the right, to alter the feelings of those around them according to the way they are feeling at any given moment. To break it down, it can look like the thought in their head is 'If I'm not happy, then you can't be happy either.'

I certainly can't speak for women with a disposition similar to mine but I can say that I have been caught in this vice more times than I can remember. For a few years there, my reaction to this sort of attack on my state of well being would be to take myself as far away from the circumstance and as quickly as I could; to move and keep moving.

I was profoundly aware of my physical sensations. My heart would be thumping in my chest, my head pounding with tension, and my gut and throat would feel alarmingly constricted. The anger I would feel in being put upon, in having my sense of calm disrupted; my sense of frustration that someone would have the gall to be rude because he felt a lack of harmony within himself, would explode inside me as might a volcano that does not spew out lava but contains the eruption within. At its worst, this sense of upset could last hours.

It wasn't until it was suggested to me that I actually should be physically contained when angry (and boy, did that set my emotions aglow) that I started to consider the idea of staying quite still when angry. Very quickly, this strategy helped, because unwittingly I'd enabled my breathing to recover; to slow down and begin to recover from the 'flight or fight' reaction that had been induced in me.

I've come to see that I can't necessarily really have any effect over another person, regardless of how angelic or submissive my behavior. If a person wants to be unhappy, sad, mad, angry, or frustrated; if he wants to remain in denial as to his issues, or sit in a room on his own; whatever; there is nothing I can do about that. I say this as a person who has tried to have effect and failed. There is no denying the fact that I hate to fail at anything and this scenario isn't comfortable for me, especially when I have been in pursuit of solutions for so long.

However, what I have come to see is that that person is not responsible for the pain I am feeling. If I can find a quiet place to sit with my eyes closed I can get in touch with the pain I am feeling in my body. Am I carrying the pain with tightness across my skull, or do I feel constriction in my neck? I can place my hands over the painful parts of my body and quite literally 'hold' the painful experience. "It hurts here," I tell myself.

These are my feelings. Even if they were intended, they still belong to me. I have the choice to respond to painful situations in creative ways. By taking responsibility for the feelings I have the power to make the pain melt away. I'm no longer blaming anyone for the painful response so I have the power to make the pain go away. Even when turbulence encircles me it doesn't have to overwhelm me, because I have the power to ensure that it doesn't hurt me; or if it does, that I can make it go away.

There is huge personal power in this school of thought. For me, it is a way to return to the peace and calm that I routinely seek in spite of the challenges of my life. It's a strong reminder of the simple fact that the peace resides in me and that I don't need to run off and find it.