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Post-carrying Day 14

 

Today I was reminded that not all Fear rises to the surface unless summoned. 

 

On my morning walk with our dog, I stopped by a neighbor's for a bit of a chat as they were out in the driveway. It was a beautiful morning tinged with just the slightest autumn chill beneath sunny skies. I was feeling bouyant in the wake of the 30:30 challenge being completed. While I had work to do, there were no deadlines awaiting me by day's end.

 

As we stopped in the driveway, I thought to wish our neighbor an early "happy birthday." He is exactly one year older than my dad, so I always make a point to wish him well each year. This morning he didn't seem to take note, but, looking somber he informed me that a young man who'd been causing a bit of upset and unsettled the neighborhood over the past 8 or so years had committed suicide and would be buried today in the little local cemetary down the hill. I said, 'he was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder wasn't he?" My neighbor confirmed this and we talked about the young man's life and his death. I learned quite a bit more than I was ready to hear; but my neighbor, understandably needed to talk. The boy was the grandson of his best friend.

 

We parted, both of us shaking our heads at the tragedies of life and of death in it's odd forms. 

 

As I walked home, I noticed my own life present itself before my thoughts and the suicide began to seep into my bones and cells drawing up the deep Fear there. Someone close to me has Bipolar Disorder. While the young man who was buried today lived under his own circumstances, the Disorder is serious under any circumstances. AND, while I am deeply deeply grateful the person I am close to with Bipolar is actively seeking to learn how to manage it, I was surprised at the unconscious response my body underwent in hearing about the suicide. By the time I arrived home, I was near tears and needing to process the impact of being reminded in such a graphic way of the potential outcome of Bipolar. 

 

Suicide IS one possibility one always knows is there when you care about someone with Bipolar. But being conscious of that doesn't mean there isn't Fear surrounding it on deeper levels.

 

I guess that brings up the notion that no matter HOW aware I am of my Fear, there are always going to be nuances or levels to it that can only be seen let alone understood when the Fear is brought to light by life circumstances. I wish I COULD pick out Fears one by one and stick them under a microscope, examine, poke, prod, even carry them around for a while and get to know them then be free of any surprises as I move on with life. Unfortunately Fear doesn't work that way. 

 

Again, this brings to mind why I carried the Fear Chair. Not to rid myself of Fear, for that is impossible, but to better understand it and perhaps even lessen my Fear of Fear. My Fear about a loved one committing suicide (like any BIG Fear I suppose) is complex and layered. I can intellectualize and analize it and get to know it pretty darned well. And even let go of a bit of it. But when faced with the actual, flat-out reality of the statistics and then someone I know (even not well) actually committing the act, will open the deep tendrils and layers like intellectuallizing and analysis cannot. This is because, duh, Fear is not a function of intelligence. Fear is primal. It's even more than emotional. It's physical. It's historical. Most basic of basic experiences. Before language. Before communication. Who knows, perhaps even before Love, was Fear.

 

Anyway, I called a couple friends and processed. Did my work. Then spent ample time in my studio working on a Fibre Collage that is the final piece in the 3 piece Prayer Flag Series "The Serenity Prayer." I've done "Courage" and "Wisdom." Last is "Serenity." How fitting. "Grant me the Serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the Courage to change the things I can and the Wisdom to know the difference." Counter to the order of the prayer, perhaps "serenity to accept the things I cannot change" is hardest for me... "serenity to accept the Fear I cannot change," hmmmm...


post-carrying Day 13

I struggled a bit with leaving last night's post up. It was a bit long and had a bit of a rant slant. I still struggle with having a voice. With visability. Why would I take it down? Let me list the whys.... 


  • someone might be offended
  • someone might disaggree with me
  • if someone disagreed it might mean what I wrote was/is "wrong"

Here's a secret, someone in my life whom one would expect would love me unconditionally given who they are in my life has told me more than once that (they) didn't want to talk about certain subjects with me or hear my opinions about them because not talking about them would allow this person to continue to love me. Since my earliest memories, circumstances in my childhood convinced me that to be myself would  dissappoint important people in my life and I'd be sent away.

 

That's as detailed as I can get but I think it shows enough of the situation to explain why posting such strong opinions about something as public as media was a huge risk for me. Yet I did it. And, I did not remove it. I allowed myself to be seen.

 

Visible is risky. Yet, I am learning two things from the FCP: # I have as much right to be seen as anybody and #2 In a way I have no choice but to BE visible. It was a lie I told myself as a child that I could hide who I am as much as it was a lie I told myself that I SHOULD hide who I am.

 

I look at all the ways I "tried" to hide; and I look at all the ways available to "cover up" who one is in our culture. I don't think I am alone. I am realizing visibility really is huge not just for me. I think I had to see how huge it was/is for me before I could see it is a Fear that is very prevalent in our culture. I don't mean just the make-up or dieting industries. Visibility is vulnerability. Personas, positioning, competition, busy-ness, separatism, possession accumulation,... So many, so many forms this Fear can take without our even realizing. 

 

Many years ago I was dating someone who took me to a dinner with fellow  professionals in an MBA program. Before I walked in to the room, I could feel the buzz of the expectations that all attending would measure according to the standards befitting such a program. We sat at a table with several lovely people, a partner in every couple was in the course. So the program was talked about peripherally for a while, then we got to introductions. The man next to me turned and introduced himself and I myself, then he asked, "and what do you do?" How many time do we get asked that question in our lives and know that what they mean is, "what do you do that someone deems worthy enough to pay you?" In other words, "what do you do 8 hours a day, I'm not interested in the other 16."

 

I answered chuckling, "Well, I do a lot of things," and started listing my artwork, my daughter, my apprenticeship, storytelling, library work, "what specifically would you like to hear about?" The answer fell flat. My date was furious and quickly stepped in to "save" the situation.

 

Not only do we not really want to be seen, but I wonder if we also have a Fear of seeing others. If their vulnerability touches too closely to our own. We seem to have an unwritten aggreement, "you keep your wall up and I'll keep mine. You over there, me over here."

 

I think the FCP has helped me see my walls for the divisive and, really, useless lies that they are. Though to be honest, as I alluded to at the beginning of the blog, I still feel the Fear at taking them down, or even peeking over them. It's still risky. But then, so is keeping them up.


Post-carrying Day 12

 

My husband and I compared notes this evening. I haven't watched television since 1996 (here and there on vacation once in a great while not-withstanding but not in our home). Our daughter (20) was raised without television. He is my daughter's stepfather. He stopped watching television the latter part of 1999. We dabbled in Public Television a bit but when everything went HD, we didn't convert. And we never looked back.

 

I stopped watching originally in 96 when heavy rains after a freeze caused flooding and a mudslide that carried a truck 20 feet in a Portland neighborhood. The news stations went wild. Even the one I'd watched thinking it was reserved and respectable. The video of the slide and the truck was shown whenever there was a transition from one reporter to the next because nothing else dramatic happened. The rivers stayed within their banks though they rose significantly. Later there was a very damaging mudslide but that was the next day, for an entire day we were fed this little drama over and over and over. It did get that ridiculous. Until I turned off the TV. 

 

This is coming up because of two things that happened today. My husband and I realized that neither of us even listen to public radio anymore (except on Saturdays once in a while) because they've gone to a 7 days of news format. Even on public radio, the present energy put into producing news stories is at a level that feels unhealthy to us.

 

Humans are creatures that run on energy at certain frequencies. And we are affected by energy around us. A lot of studying is currently going into possitive psychology (Harvard even offers a degree in it) and the effects of possitive energy as well as negative energy on people's happiness and longevity. My husband and I simply feel the negative energy from television far more than we feel the positive. I know people argue there is a lot of good stuff on TV and Cable, and there IS. Once in a while we'll happen upon something on the internet or DVD that we love. But not enough to hook up the Television and bring it in as a member of the family.

 

The other thing that happened today was that my Dad, an avid news-watcher, mentioned that "it's all getting repetitive," then he added, "and it's getting even scarier." I've watched enough news programing with my extended family or in hotel rooms through the years to be grateful to hear him notice this. Now, whatever you watch as a news source (I've watched my parents' choices for news and I've watched others, supposedly opposing perspectives) I'd agree, the Fear is running high. Is it that the world really IS a place we should Fear more now than every before? Or is it that Fear is being SOLD better than it ever has before. I've also heard these arguments. 

 

Tonight I have to ask, does it matter? Really? Does it matter if the world is a scarier place or if people are selling ("mongering") Fear? The point IS we have this wonderful invention, the Television/internet/radio (media - any one or all) and people are either turning it/them off or sitting glued to their every word in case next up there's a video of a (insert here gruesome murder type or political scandal or celebrity nip slip or yet another speculation while we watch, again, the mudslide footage). 

 

Fear is powerful. The final days carrying my Fear Chair, I noticed very well how powerful Fear can be. It too is an energy in this universe. Fear has it's own frequencey. Ever notice your dog seems to notice when you are feeling insecure and need some loves? Remember, "horses can sense Fear" from the movies? "Never let 'em see you sweat," I think is another one. Fear changes us in ways that animals and other humans can detect, even when we aren't entirely aware ourselves that we are feeling uneasy. Before carrying the Fear Chair, I thought a lot of my behaviors were just habits or "how I am." Some are of course, but I was amazed how much of my behavior, how many of my decisions on a daily basis can be traced to Fear/s. 

 

I do believe Fear is selling far more than ever before in our media, that's why I limit my exposure. I really don't need others telling me what to be afraid of in Iceland or Hollywood, or even Washington, when my worrying, my anger, my Fear won't change anything but me. It will make me a worried, angry, Fearful person as I live my life thousands of miles from those places. 

 

I am not saying don't be informed. I am saying Information is no longer the same as News. And, I am saying there might just be such a thing as too much information. TMI after all, but not just about what your best friend did with her boyfriend last night. And I'm not saying don't do anything to make this a better world. But - it - really - is - true - you - can - only - change - YOU. Ghandi was indeed a wise man, "Be the change you want to see in the world." Don't shake your fists and yell and scream or threaten and expect to get love and peace. It's just not a scientifically sound if not spiritually sound method for improving things.

 

Also, there is much being said regarding this slant or that slant to the news. So we even Fear the news! We don't know whom to trust.

 

For me, I just choose to live a bit closer to home.


Post-carrying Day 11

 

Looking for a new home for the Chair. I've let the question sit in my subconscious over the last 10 days, what to do with the Chair. I know I said I'd donate it but (that big butt again) just haven't made movement in the direction until today. I did contact the Community Warehouse in PDX. Hopefully they will want it for their fundraiser.

 

This brings me to my assignment from Carol. I am to look up and educate myself about galleries and submit enquiries to jury my artwork. Sigh. I did a little bit of this last night but not anything committal yet. As I write this, I am going to cut myself a little slack. I still have two more paintings to do for the 30 in 30 Challenge. I need to wait until that is past. I just do. Not out of Fear really, but out of shear sense of still swimming in the waters of CHANGE. I did some work on an old painting today and was blown away by how my confidence and skill have developed/are developing.

 

I think I am hard on myself by expecting when an idea comes, I MUST act upon it immediately or it means I am afraid of it. Well, perhaps there IS a bit of Fear, but sometimes, as I've said multiple times, Fear is self-preserving. Sometimes I need to hesitate before jumping into another pool. Sometimes I don't yet know entirely how the present pool will affect me until I am out of it. THEN would be a better time to judge whether I can handle another swim. So, hesitation is ok. Besides, my subconscious was a good place to have stored the decision about the chair until it's time. I am learning to trust that as a good choice rather than a hiding from action. Sometimes plans need to sit in my subconscious for a bit for me to see whether they are good ideas. I think this is a good realization.

 

Perhaps I used to Fear my subconscious. Perhaps I used to Fear letting go and trusting it. So much so that when ideas came to me I all too often jumped at them rather than waiting and listening. Yes, that does sound like me. 

 

In this culture we are so action oriented; it seems that to sit on an idea, especially a good one, is considered foolish. But does EVERYTHING have to be trial and error? I don't think so. In a book I am reading right now, action is described as the last step in a plan. Intention and belief must come first. Trial and error are not bad, this still needs to happen; but I think I've made a lot of choices far too abruptly because I didn't trust my subconscious/my soul/my self to just be with ideas for a while. 

 

I used to play a game called "Score Four" as a kid. (like three-dimensional checkers with pegs and beads) It was the only strategy game I seemed able to consistently win. I always loved playing it because of this but mostly I loved it because I knew why I won. I won because I would sit forward, then shift side to side, then look up and down and latterally to study the game in it's present state before I strategized my next moves. I remember wishing someone would take note and ask me about my proficency but no one ever did. I just wanted to talk to someone and find out if it was really a good way to play this game and what it meant that I'd figured this out for myself. Alas, no one was that interested in why I was good at Score Four. But, looking back, I can see a young girl just beginning to catch on to the belief in her own intuition, her own subconscious wisdom. This I suppose was the beginnings of self Love, which is the antidote to Fear. That young girl carried a lot of Fear/s, I am gratteful to note that she also knew a bit about Love.

 

LOL, I just realized I jumped on the FCP pretty quickly and acted to start immediately. Yet, actually, Carol had told me about the woman who carried the "Anger Chair" several months ago and it didn't cause any sort of action to go buy and paint and carry a Fear Chair. It WAS sitting in my subconscious and all it took was Carol bringing it up again at the "right" time for me to realize I need to pay attention to what emotion burdens me the most. And once we began exploring this, in my present place in life, in that moment, in that NOW, it was time for action. 

 

Yay....


Post-carrying Day 10

 

Tonight was my last catering. I don't even know how many years I have catered through the wedding season (April-October) for my friend's business. I just realizes though after the wedding a couple weeks ago that I am at an age where one job that beats my body to a pulp is enough. Also, circumstances are such that I am needing to work more in our contracting business now. So, I listened to my body and gave notice that tonight (also the last of the season for the year) would be my last catering.

 

I will miss much about catering. I LOVE serving people. This is weird I know, but I come from a Benedicting and Franciscan Catholic background. Though I am no longer Catholic, the tradition of hospitality and service were something I deeply loved and provided the only way for me to truly feel at home let alone valued in the church. So it was a part of me too that I learned to love early on in life. It is part of who I am, part of what I feel makes me loveable is my love of service.

 

Also, I will miss the food. OMG, Maggie has the best food! And when catering, there is little time to eat (sometimes no time) and if it comes, the time is hours after we've carried, prepared and served the food, so we work very hard AND suffer not being able to eat what smells absolutely fabulous. So, when we do eat, it is well needed and well deserved. I will miss the passion of that dynamic. Oh, and we get to sample the wedding cakes most of the time. This is always like a tip at the end of the plate-clearing. We get to sneak a sample to share and we always critique (tonight's was AMAZING!, moist and flavorful. I didn't even think about it until I pulled into my driveway after work, I am supposed to be on a gluten-free trial for three months)

 

I will miss the people. The catering staff changes from time to time. Some people are better suited to it than others. It's a fast-paced, hard hard job (I'm in construction and sometimes I have trouble deciding which provides the better workout). Most staff works in earnest, even if not well suited, to do the food justice by providing efficient and lovely service. But it is the people we serve that I will miss as well. Some have been challenging, some characters, most have been utterly delightful to serve and to encounter. There are a LOT of amazing and lovely people in this world. Utterly delightful meeting them or just seeing them celebrating life! 

 

I will miss the dressing up. We live pretty simply and don't really go out much. If we do, mostly we go out for breakfast or something casual if for dinner. My husband and I agreed before we got married that we would never tell the other how to dress. I got married in a full-length, fitted, fully-beaded evening gown with a sequin phoenix down the front and slits up to my thighs that I'd bought years before at a thrift store. He was wearing Tommy Bahama shorts and a tropical motif silk shirt. We both were barefoot because my sandal broke just before the ceremony, so we took it as a sign we were supposed to get even more comfortable. So, anyway, we don't dress up much. Caterings gave me some semblance of glamour. Such as it was.... lol.

 

So I am sad. Yet I am also relieved. My body feels the relief. My heart is a bit sad. And I'd be lying if I said there was no Fear in this change. Catering has been part of my identity in the community, part of a friendship, part of my social life (odd but true) and part of my connection to what makes me loveable. It is a little scary to let go of that. What will this mean for my identity, my friendship, my social life (such as it is) and my love of service? I am not overyly Fearful. I know life will continue and fulness of living is still mine to enjoy, but it is a shift and there are unknowns. So, one day at a time in this change too... I trust all will be well and all IS well....


Post-carrying Day 9

 

Again great conversations with people who haven't seen me yet without the chair until today. Did I mention last night that I took the chair out of my car? Either last night or this morning. Can't recall which. I needed to pick up our materials and tools from the jobsite and so needed to empty the car. I left it out however. I think it is time. 

 

I talked too with a couple people about how anti-climactic the end of carrying the Chair was relative to what I thought it might be. I thought some great insight would flash before me and "pow, zowie!" it would be time to stop carrying the chair. It's kind of funny that I stopped carrying it mid-day too. How plain-jane is that? Just didn't carry it any more. I went back and read posts just prior to and just after stopping the carrying. It really was rather unforetold as well. The fireworks have really been in the days following, the days since I stopped carrying it. The insights and the deepening of resolve and understanding of insights are what i am loving since setting the Chair down. 

 

The FB group and I are nearing the end of our 30 in 30 challenge and while I have learned a great deal, I still feel very much in the thick and churning waters of this experience. I haven't a clue of the big picture this experience has created for me. And, swimming in these waters, I sometimes fear there are no answers, no further lessons. But the FCP has taught me better than anything I've put myself through that the real learning comes after one is again on dry land. Feet planted firmly to withstand the weight of lessons and new ideas about ones self.

 

 


Post-carrying day 8

 

Today was the day I was to perform a terribly "fear trigger-ridden" task. It involved a relationship and those sorts of tasks are always doubly risky because another person's Fear triggers get involved as well. I took care of myself today though. Since I was up late painting, I only got 6 hours of sleep but was able later in the day, before I was to deal with the relationship issue, to sneak in a short nap. Also talked with support people a bit. But mostly, I was very careful with myself today. 

 

I've often said, "I am hard on things in my life, including the people in my life." I generally laugh at that point but mostly laugh because it is so true. And the person I tend to be roughest on of course is me. I wear jeans down to holy rags THEN wear them only to work on demolishions or to paint until they are nearly falling off me or stiff with paint. You can always tell when I've read a book, it looks a bit ravaged, as if all I didn't do to enjoy it was take a bite out of it. Most days some item of clothing I have on will have stains or paint or tears hidden or staring everyone right in the face. I just live rather roughly. I have learned to love this about me. And, as some of my blog posts relay, I have struggled with internal rough handling as well as I learned to bash my inner-self around quite effectively. But, carrying the Fear Chair, with the word "love" painted on the underside of the seat, I have  learned to love the person I treat the roughest. I am learning to give her a rest more often. Learning that sitting out on life is sometimes choosing to be kind to myself. Learning to offer myself more grace, more compassion.

 

Carrying around Fear in the form of a chair was also physically hard work and logistically challenging. Sometimes it felt reminiscent of being a new mother carrying around my baby and the multiple bags and doodads that come with babies, while trying to open doors, carry groceries, coffee, a stack of books, cans of paint, etc... So, there was a memory in me of carrying a great burden that was also a great treasure to be loved and adored. I DID grow to love and adore the Fear Chair, not in itself, but in it's connection to my humility and vulnerability and earnestness AND my Fear. This was 50+ days of learning a new habit, to be gentle with even a difficult part of myself. A part of myself, I'd say at times in life I would have been fine cutting off forever if only I could be free of Fear/s. If I can be gentle with my Fear, I can be gentle with my being.

 

The "terribly fear trigger-ridden task" went well I am deeply greatful to say. I had no expectations but to deliver my part and do my best to carry Love. Many components went into it going well that other's are responsible for and for whom I am grateful. Change is indeed laden with both danger AND endless possibilities. I am grateful too for those who remind me to listen openly and to breathe. Love really IS the greatest gift. 

 

One day at a time. Life continues.


Post-carrying Day 7

 

Must    post   blog    .... 

 

SO tired. It's 11:30. Just finished my painting for the 30;30 challenge. Check it out. 

 

Today what I have to say is I LOVE that I did the FCP!!! Detatchment, that's the word I needed last night. I am far better able to observe myself in conversations in a bit more detatched way so that I can observe when Fear creeps in. Today I had two lovely conversations, one at the post office and one at the auto parts store. At the post office, I noticed myself assessing that we'd talked too long and the counter person might get in trouble, so I stepped away, signalling a closing to the conversation. The counter person kept talking. He was telling me about his time in the service in a foreign country and how the people were wonderful, etc... It was actually very evident that he would love to go back to the country to visit. After I noticed that I'd stepped away and that it was out of Fear, I stepped back forward and continued to be engaged in the conversation. And, again, it was lovely! I learned some things and it seemed he really enjoyed sharing the stories. Incidentally, when someone else came in for postal help, we did wrap it up so they didn't have to wait.

 

This encounter allowed me to be open to NOW. And when NOW was in the auto parts store, the clerk there shared a great conversation with me as well. Very cool. I felt very grateful. 

 

Later, though, I must admit, I stopped in at a place  where I used to work but quit about a long time ago and I noticed I still have some old Fear wrapped up in that place and some memories that keep me more on guard. I will keep working on it...

 

I just think it's interesting too that detatchment actually helps me connect better with people. I think I used to be too immersed in experiences. Like swimming with everyone in the pool of experiences. Now I think I am standing on land. Odd, I once was very into exploring shamanism and spiritual travel and one time I was at a workshop and we were given the suggestion to travel to our foundation. To ask our spirit guide/s to help us explore our foundation. This was a couple years ago. Anyway, when we talked later, I laughingly told everyone the truth, that my foundation was water. As I journeyed, from the moment I started, actually, I was under water. The Shaman who guided us suggested I work on building my foundation of something more substantial. Hmmm.... Think I have.