Noise Irritation
Ugh. I am day two into a spring cold and am none to pleased about it. It makes everything feel like a bit too much to take on. In addition to the whole body "ick" sensation I am sneezy, headachy, itchy, cranky, and probably a few other of the Dwarves of Spring Colds.
Tonight the neighbor, who spends the majority of his time meticulously maintaining his yard, used a pressure washer to clean his drive way for nearly 3 hours. The same neighbor yelled at me Sunday for the state of my yard when I suggested we find a compromise on the tiny strip of earth between our properties that didn't involve him spraying toxic herbicides that then run down onto my property.
After the Loving-Kindness sesshin I can feel the way my heart hardens, closes against the neighbor. Generally I feel mostly some compassion for him, tinged with a sadness that I suppose is rooted in judging the circumstances of his life. Today it was challenging to offer him anything resembling a kind thought at all. He's a good candidate for when I choose to work on Loving-Kindness practice for someone who irritates me.
The noise of the pressure washer felt oppressive with the congestion-amplified pain in my head. On top of that our water bill had arrived today. There's the very realistic cost of that water, financially and environmentally. I feel aware of him literally spraying resources into the sewer system.
Dinner managed to get made and the noise was still this heavy weight as we recited our meal chant. We smiled, joked, rolled our eyes, and commented on the neighbor's behavior. Finally I burst out to CK, "That noise is what my chronic pain sounds like!"
Several years ago I started to use noise to help people understand what chronic pain is like. A constant noise, part of every moment of your life, and not even in sleep can it be fully escaped - that's what it is like to have chronic pain. Some days it might only be slightly irritating to have the constant noise vibration; those are the good days. Other days it feels like the noise vibrations are an oppressive and heavy weight that makes it hard, if not impossible, to wade through the day-to-day; those are the bad days.
He's stopped now. I am feeling a lot better since he has. I was thinking about how irritation & aversion are merely low-level anger. Anger all usually comes back to fear. What do I fear in the neighbor's noise?
Maybe I find the noise of his many power, yard tools to be so awful because I already have what feels like some level of constant noise chafing in my life from my pain. Do I fear the additional weight of the noise in my life?
There are small, puffy, rose-hued clouds hanging in the still-blue, twilight sky. The sunset is so lovely from the upstairs of the house. Now, now that there is some quiet I'll go sit zazen for a little and offer Loving-Kindness practice for myself and my neighbor.
Another Check on the List
Tonight I finished my 46th asana class in the past 7 months. That doesn't count the 2 classes per week I taught during the majority of those months. My body aches, I'm tired, and I'm not sure my hoping that after 4 consecutive days my body would get used to the effort actually is true. Tonight my body feels as though it is clamouring for rest. I am so looking forward to having no class to teach or attend on Sunday and I really think I'd like to go swimming on Monday.
AM has keys to his studio and can even start moving some things over. He's trying to sell the camper he bought last year as well as some of the furniture we agreed was his to either take or put onto Craigslist. I'm relieved since it means in a few weeks I can feel like I'm not in this constant back and forth. Either missing my cats or CK and not feeling entirely settled either place. I am looking forward to sharing one space for both of us that doesn't feel cluttered.
Tomorrow night is our graduation party. I'm toying with wearing an outfit from India I bought a year and a half ago, have never worn. It is snug, especially on my arms and bright, I feel a bit conspicious in it. The feeling of tightness on my arms which makes me think about all the ugly, loose skin there after losing weight. I'm trying to remember how it brought a smile to CK's face when I tried it on to show her. I don't know, maybe I'll just wear my yoga clothes.
Sometimes I'm OK with my body and some days not so much. Tonight is really a "not so much" night. Perhaps it is feeling so tired and fatigued, that's contributing to feeling so-so about my body. I should be appreciating it, I was up in shoulder stand, in splits again tonight and it felt really good. This body I get so frustrated with did that pose.
I submitted a proposal to teach "yoga for geeks" workshop at Open Source Bridge. For some reason I feel very uncertain about the whole thing. CK reminded me that everyone I've mentioned it to in the local Open Source community has been very supportive and encouraging of the idea. She also pointed out how she doesn't have the same wrist and shoulder problems she did when I met her, all because she's doing yoga now. Besides being beneficial, healthy I think yoga practice really fits in the Open Source community. It is something people are encouraged to do themselves, to work directly with the shared knowledge of it, and even adapt it to fit each individual's needs.
As I drove to the flat from Prananda I was delighted to see lingering streaks of pink low, peeking through the clouds. The faintest hint of blue towards the top of the sky. It is so nice to not be in the dark, to feel like spring and warmth are not far.
Spring Evening
I know gratitude
For evenings streaked with last rays;
Sunlight lingering.
Delayed and Present Pain
Today kind of sucked, well the two and a half hours of asana, the same asana over and over again, really had my hips and my emotions hurting. I was just utterly spent by the time I got to the flat and found CK waiting with ibuprofen, practically at the door, and dinner well under way. I felt so entirely happy, relieved and grateful to see her tonight.
I talked to her about the hurt I've been struggling with around AM resurgence of commitment to practice. I felt it keenly last night during savasana when I had said I was grateful for my practice. What I had fully in my heart was how sweet it was to be laying in savasana next to CK, how fulfilling it feels to share my practice with someone so deeply. I feel this way at times when we are sitting zazen next to each other. Just feeling profoundly grateful to share a very vital part of myself with someone and have it by nurtured by their own practice.
She asked if what I felt wasn't new hurt so much as delayed hurt. That I dove into three years of zen practice and never really felt like I truly shared it with AM. I appreciated that we each had a separate practice, but I noted at times that I'd like to deepen our relationship by sharing being part of our Zen community. I hadn't looked at it quite like that, it feels a kind of newness, but it makes sense.
Rather like the issues dividing showing up and growing several years ago, but neither of us wanted to the be the one to point them out, I never wanted to acknowledge that I was sad my spouse didn't want to share my spiritual path with me. How I deeply wanted to feel like these things that have become such a vital part of who I am are really shared, supported and mutually appreciated.
I hold onto the fact that had AM done all those things we would have eventually come to this same place. That it doesn't change anything. I suppose I'm merely mourning what I wished could have been. Not terribly productive and I try not to get wrapped up in this, staying in past regrets and wishes. Especially not when the future holds the very thing I didn't choose to recognize I was missing.
Sadness
In looking at the local news this morning I saw that the teacher of some of my dearest friends died unexpectedly. I felt the sorrow rising at this news. Not long after corresponding with one of my friends I spent several minutes on the phone with a lawyer going over some questions about my divorce. A couple of hours after that I received news that our very close knit team was going to lose the support of a very talented team member. By 2PM my left leg hurt from the hip all the way down the back of the leg.
One of my friends stopped by and we were able to talk briefly of the grief he and his congregation are facing and I was struck at the enormity of the loss. It made me think of the absolute, inconsolable anger and grief I'd feel to lose one of my teachers. In this frame of mind I tried to get the Merit List printed, including Reb Aryea's name, and had technical difficulties. By the time I got to the Dharma Center and saw CK standing there I had tears in my eyes even though I'd told Hogen in a tight voice that I was, "OK".
Sitting seemed to help, I felt a little more settled. Perhaps it was just the pain in my left leg that was distracting to the noise in my head. No sudden, painful, horrible thoughts arising in the quiet. I felt very grateful for that. At times I feel fear in going to sit with my Sangha these days, afraid of what fresh agony from childhood will surface in my mind in that deep stillness. When that happens it erodes the feeling of safety zazen gives me -- even if I know I shouldn't hold onto zazen as being safe.
After I was invited to be part of a group recommending guidelines to how we will grow our Sangha, how to reach out to more communities to show them that the Dharma is truly accessible to all in ways small and large. I felt deeply disappointed when I was told I wouldn't be able to participate if I was unable to come for the two days designated to this activity. It is an area I feel so connected to and to be told I couldn't be a part because I was learning to be a yoga teacher felt hard.
I found myself crying for a moment upstairs alone when I put the Merit List back into the Ino's notebook. It wasn't that I felt judged or that the group was intentionally being hurtful. I did believe what I'd told them. I understood they would want to keep the group whole. I knew I could trust my Sangha to make wise decisions. I just felt taut with all the sadness, all the good-byes I've said lately and changes I'm making.
When I came back downstairs after composing myself, or so I hoped I had, JM caught me to say that they wanted me to be part of the group for as much time as I could devote. That they felt it was important to include me since this was an area that so deeply called to my heart. I was very touched and in my tenderness felt tears coming up to my eyes again.
On the way home from the Dharma Center I picked my laptop up from the office (I'd forgotten it when I left earlier) then popped by CK's to pick up some of my stuff. She had tea waiting for me and I sat talking with her a bit. When I tried to say I felt a little silly being so emotional she drew my attention to the whole of my day so I would see that it was a day heavy with sadness and the constant pain-noise in my left leg made it feel very hard.
A Dharma New Year
I spent the first moments of 2009 on my zafu in the zendo at the Portland Dharma Center sitting zazen with members of both Zen Community of Oregon and Dharma Rain. The silence of zazen was punctuated by 108 rings of the bell. A ring for each of the types of impediments to enlightenment.
Last year I'd spent the New Year at a women's retreat, Joy in Mindfulness. It was a very special time and I look forward to doing it again sometime. Aside from the yoga teacher training (financial and time resources are dedicated to this) and no vacation time, I really wanted to experience New Year's with my community and my beloved this year.
There was a potluck dinner to start followed by sacred circle dances led by Chozen Bays. After we settled into the zendo for Fusatsu, a ceremony where we burned paper where we'd each noted things that are impediments to our true selves, zazen, a chanting service, and closed with some sparkling cider served formal tea style in the zendo! What a full night!
CK and I made an African peanut stew from the Becoming Vegetarian book that we both like a lot and I made some matcha cupcakes, which were very popular when I brought them to a sitting night earlier in the year. Our Sangha must have agreed since both were all eaten up by the time we packed up after midnight. It was a delicious potluck dinner, I may have gotten some unexpected butter, but that may happen from time-to-time. Some of the stand out dishes were several variations of salads made with quinoa that inspired CK & I, buckwheat noodles tossed with a sesame dressing, carrots & tofu, and there was a very tasty lentil & chard soup we'll have to track down the recipe for later. Oh, and Brussles Sprouts, which we both just love!
For some people the sacred circle dances Chozen teaches are a "big snore", but I enjoy them a lot. They are simple, close and always invite a lot of shared, gentle laughter. I am pretty thrilled that CK enjoyed them too!
The only downside to a perfectly wonderful night was when I began to stiffen up and hurt a lot, from my right lower back to the ankle, during zazen. We sat a longer second period, with no kinhin between zazen periods (only a wiggle bell), and I didn't switch to a seiza bench between. They'd opened a few windows to keep the zendo cool (to help keep everyone wakeful) and I grew tight, chill, and further into pain. Always a very challenging part of my practice.
Even still, I'm used to working with the pain so it doesn't detract from events overly. Once we got home, I had some ibuprofen, hot tea and snuggled under a warm blanket until I was feeling better. Sleep will further help.
Tomorrow, today really, we're off to Eugene for a couple of days at a bed and breakfast, a little exploring, and a lot of relaxing.
Exploding Out
I had an appointment with IW today, the evening sky was so beautiful as I headed over. I took my art journal with me, correctly guessing that she'd find the drawing I did of how my fear feels very interesting. It is so energetic, which is something that my therapy with her touches into, the ways the energy is stored, bound up in my body.
I tried to explain to her that when I first was explaining the energy during sanzen with HB some time ago that the fear felt like a black hole. The blackness pulling in all the light and energy, the way a black hole pulls apart a dying sun.
I'd started the drawing with that blackness, the center of it and added the reds, yellows and oranges. The meditating figure I added later. Eventually I realized it was me, the figure. At the very end I decided to add features to my face. I wanted to feel hopeful so I drew gentle, peaceful features.
IW was excited by the drawing. she felt, contrary to my "black hole" image that I'd draw all the blackness exploding out. She was interested that it was directly over my heart, the black fear and angry reds. IW thought if I'd added lines, containers around it the energy would be shown as trapped inside, instead it was all rushing, draining out of me.
She hopes I'll do more artwork, she thinks it is a great outlet for exploring this energy, these memories. I mentioned to her that I'd got the idea to try some artwork after picking up a crayon during a guided meditation for trauma recovery. IW, like GM thought I have made a good choice in providing myself art supplies after that moment. Especially given how art was something that wasn't really I had a lot of opportunity to do growing up despite wanting to.
We talked a little while she worked on the trigger points in my body. I mentioned that GW thinks my mind lets go of things during zazen at the Dharma Center because it knows that I am safe. She agreed with that, but she also thinks that in the silence my body is able to speak. That through all of this my body is trying to tell me things. Eventually I'll get through all of this and my body will be able to let go of some of the pain because it has finally been heard.
On top of the posi
Tight
Had a massage from BM today. I told her about nearly falling, how my hips hurt so bad on Friday that I had that emotional response, oh.... and learning to drive CK's truck (have wondered if that's why the left ankle has been so tense). She said, "Well, we're work on that!"
She started checking out my neck and I was surprised at the tension. I could feel that my whole neck was solid, taut, no movement between the vertebrae. The pain shot through my left shoulder, up into my jaw, and down my back.
While she worked on my body I found several places where the tension was so great, the spots she worked little points of intensity. I switched to Ujjayi Pranayama to help breathe through the heaviness of the energy. Pushing the breath through my shoulders, back, and hips, down my legs and out my feet.
Yesterday was beautiful. Woke up at 8AM and looked out of the window to see falling snow. We snoozed a little longer and by 9AM the snow was accumulating. At about 10:30 I got a message from CS that Dishman was closing up for the day so CK and I decided to walk up to her athletic club for a work out.
It was nice to share that practice with her, like so many of the other things we've found to share. We did some stretching and work on our core muscles, abdomen and then moved onto weight machines. After doing some isolation of my leg muscles I walked on a treadmill for half a mile while CK settled into a run next to me. I then headed down to an empty studio to go through some standing yoga poses.
While we were on the treadmills there was an announcement that the club was closing up at 1PM due to the increasingly bad weather. CK and I had a quick soak then bundled up to walk back to her flat for lunch. Her meeting with DTH was cancelled so we bundled up again, walked to MAX and went to Pioneer Square to enjoy the city in the snow.
The experience, Portland covered in a layer of white, was lovely. There was a bump in our day when CK had an unsettling call from her family. She walked with me up to the art museum anyway and I took pictures of the sculpture garden. My hands were freezing so we went and sat in the atrium of the Galleria to warm up a bit. After that we headed home, trying to keep ourselves warm in the truly frigid wind.
Generosity
This first Dharma talk during Ango was given by CB on the topic of generosity, the Paramita dana.
She talked to two main points: the ways in which we can manifest generosity and how we must cultivate a peace that we carry within us. Towards the end of the second period of zazen she asked to consider what we could do to project generosity there, upon the cushion, without speech or movement.
Metta came to my mind immediately, projecting loving-kindness and opening the heart. This called to mind to me the difficulty I have offering that back to myself. I thought about my pain, how I just work around it, let it be this dull, background noise accompanying the humming and drumming of my daily life. The physical pain particularly, but the emotional pain as well.
It had been a long day. The chair made me ache at the restaurant where we met to discuss the fund raising dinner around CB's new book, Mindful Eating. My stomach was a little upset and my back and hips ached, a spot in my right quadratus lumborum particularly so. Really, I just hoped the bell would ring soon so I could stretch out.
I took a moment and just thought about compassion for that spot that ached. I offered some sympathy to myself for the constant pain-noise, always somewhere in the back or hips. I acknowledged that it is tiring and hard to manage chronic pain. I didn't feel sorry for myself, just recognized the effort. Just focused on trying to be generous to myself.
The Risk to Blossom
Last night, while writing, I became aware of the the fatigue and eye strain I was feeling. I was seeing rainbow tracers across my vision, a whole arcing line of them. I went to bed feeling the effort of my yoga practice and heavy with the size of the change in my life.
This morning I woke up and my head ached from the sinuses, to my jaw, and wrapping around the base of the cranium. I got up, showered and headed in regardless. Under the fluorescent lights of the office it began to feel as though I'd been both hit in the face with shovel and as if the skin of my scalp was too small. Some ibuprofen at 11AM helped for about 30 minutes but by 12:10 I was about as bad as I'd been when I first got there. Finally I just went home and attempted writing some documentation instead of the code I'd been working on.
I am feeling a bit more scared today. Have had time to consider the enormity of the tasks at hand. I'm grateful to not have to try and get them all done in the next few weeks, but even working on them over the next months seems a little overwhelming. It is trying to figure out the details that feels like too much to manage.
I found myself considering a quote from Anais Nin today, "And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom”
Today I do not feel like I'm blossoming. I can certainly see that I was feeling the irritation at remaining with what is comfortable, safe, and has the trappings of societal approval -- in the bud, as it were. I don't know, perhaps all the pain of change, the pain of knowing, seeing, and admitting the truth, that is all the pain of blossoming.
I've not been known for my risk-taking. Even in my daring I was a cautious child. I would only sink into the thrill of something only after I'd assured myself that I'd be safe doing so, at least when it came to the physical world. I can recall not being so cautious with my emotional body, throwing myself into trying to be popular, talented and smart, but not ever really fitting in with those groups in school.
Halloween 2008, Reflecting on Pain Noise
I spent much of the day dusting and organizing in the front rooms. It has been a while since I've done this chore and was helped by AM putting some boxes out in the garage. We've discovered a few boxes of things belonging to NB and need to get a hold of her to get her current address before we can send them on.
Not the usual way I'd like to spend a vacation day, however, it was nice to just have that time to take care of a task like that. I was happy to get things put into the shelves on either side of the fireplace. Moved the clustering, cluttering of glass bottles into the cabinets and other other shelves.
CK came over and also helped some with the cleaning, organizing. She and I carved a pumpkin by consensus (we did a peace sign and stars on it). Finished getting the filling for sushi rolls together. Every thing came together pretty smoothly.
At some point I was trying to get comfortable. CK asked how my pain was and I first said OK then realized that part of my pain was the pressure of my jeans. If the pressure of my jeans is too much on my legs and hips then my pain level is pretty high. I went and got pajama bottoms which felt immediately better. I had just been in such constant motion for so long I was moving past the pain.
One of the many problems with chronic pain. It is very easy for me to tune pain out. My brain is accustomed to the fact that it is given useless information all the time. There is always some level of pain that isn't anything new or worse, but I'm so used to tuning it out that when it really starts to hurt I don't pay any attention to it until it hurts to sit down, wear jeans...