Life's Meat Tenderizer

In the past 50 days (original writing 4/8/12), the Universe has asked me to let go of some important things in my life. It started with my 20 year old cat's death. Two weeks later, my 90 year old grandmother, with whom I was very close, died. Five short weeks later, my 15 year old cat died. For those without pets, it may be difficult to understand the loss, but these were creatures with whom I had my longest relationships outside of my family.

In spite of, or maybe because of the pain, I've learned a lot through these experiences. It has been a gift to be with each of them when they died. And I've learned lessons from all of them. My cat, Tiffy, was the poster cat for acceptance of all circumstances, unconditional love, joy and contentment. My grandmother was a dignified woman, who made me feel important, that I had special gifts to offer the world, and they should be shared through the things about which I am passionate. My other cat, Maddie, demanded from me full engagement, and she taught me discernment; she was a unique cat, but did not share herself indiscriminately.

Having experienced this "Trifecta of Death" in such a compressed time has left me feeling pretty roughed up, but I can see the value in it. An image became very clear to me a couple of days ago-the process of tenderizing meat. It feels like Life sprinkled a powder of experience on me, and Universal Timing took its spiky metal hammer and pounded the crap out of me. I realized that there were really two options: become hardened by the experience in an effort to shield myself from further sadness, or allow it to strip away all the BS and tenderize my heart. Believe me, I could use some tenderizing. I can often be without sentiment, too direct in my speech and unsympathetic. Pain has helped me understand the importance of leaving people with a good feeling about themselves after being in my presence. I'm not sure I'll get it perfectly anytime soon, but you can bet I'll be trying a lot harder.

There has also been an unexpected lesson for me. Respect for everyone's life situation, even if it seems unjust and beyond their control. I can recall situations from my own life-- some I chose unwisely, others felt more imposed upon me-where someone could have intervened and helped me. I can say with complete certainty that I benefited in untold ways from all of my experiences, good and bad. I hope I will not be misunderstood; it is important to help when necessary. I suppose what I'm saying is that I'm redefining "necessary" and hopefully I'm not nearly as arrogant as I was 7 weeks ago to think I know best for everyone. I think I understand what "live and let live" means.
There's also recognition for me now that I am not in charge. I'd like to think I'm holding the reigns, but I understand in a new way that I cannot see the whole picture and as the Desiderata says, "whether or not it is clear to you, the Universe is unfolding as it should." What I can control is the managing of myself through the processes that present themselves in my life.

Sound like a bunch of junk a former "cat lady" minus one grandma tells herself to feel better? Maybe, but it works. I DO feel better. And more grateful, more aware, more connected, and hopefully, a little more tenderized by Life's occasional bludgeoning. The good news is that I am still alive to do some good with my new knowledge.

If you want to read the blog post I wrote after my grandmother died last month, click HERE.
Thanks for reading, and I look forward to seeing you in the practice room.

Much love,
Liz

P.S. Another odd bit of timing related to all of this was a reminder I got today about a special practice I am doing on June 3^rd when Venus transits the Sun. The message of the practice to commemorate this galactic event is shedding the layers of protection that hide the True Self, allowing our actions to come from a place of purer intention. Two hours of fun, good work, and self-reflection- all for $20. If that sounds good to you, call Yogabliss to register, 206-275-2300, and I'll see you there!

Moving Again... a study on impermanence.

I just moved for the third time in 2 years (don't ask!) and I was lying in bed last night, first night in the "new" place, and couldn't sleep. The feeling of the impermanence of everything in life, including my own life and the lives of those I love, was feeling so heavy.

The first line of the book The Road Less Traveled is "Life is difficult." I remember reading those words 10 years ago and thinking that it was stupid, but now I understand it in a different way. I realized that I have been waiting for life to get easy and things to settle down and change less so I could relax. I've been coming to understand in a new way (not simply from an intellectual perspective) that the nature of life itself is that it is constantly changing and it's challenging. So I might as well relax now, right? I was discussing this with my friend Mary Kay, and she said, "Instead of waiting for things to settle before you relax, why don't you relax and see what settles?" Amazingly profound.

I'm learning why the very nature of life feels so weighty to me at the moment. I suspect it's because this understanding is moving from an intellectual understanding, and into my being via the body, so I'm feeling this concept as emotions and sensations. And it feels like a loss. A loss of security in the traditional sense. Who knows what will fill it's place, or how long that will be around.

Although I'm not sure it's been all that practical, these moves, I think, have been good for me. They have been a constant reminder of the impermanence of Life, and everyone and everything in it. I have been unable to become complacent as it relates to change and impermanence because the minute I start to feel settled everything is changing again. I also just realized as I'm writing this that my moves have all been right at or very near solstices or equinoxes, which is another marker of change. Another friend, Karen, was suggesting I remain mindful of the unconscious associations I may make with these events as it relates to the time of year. For example, she was recalling when a beloved pet died in the late fall, and for a long time couldn't figure out why she kept getting depressed in the fall.

As I ponder the constant change, and the fleeting nature of everyone and everything around me, I am more appreciative of the time I have with people and circumstances. I've also realized which possessions I care most about. A person really figures out what belongings are meaningful when they have to haul them around all the time. And what has simply been hanging around is more easily discarded. It's a good exercise.

I'm not sure where this is all going, so for now, I'll settle for this understanding and more appreciation for everything Life has to offer. Even the stuff that doesn't seem so great at the time.