From Grumpy to Giddy and Happy as a Clam ~ a "Sheng Zhen in Daily Life" Story

the following was written back in May! saved it to edit and, well, time passed....
 
Yesterday morning I woke up grumpy and groggy in my friend's guest room. I hadn't slept well, at least partially because I was feeling disturbed by a couple of interactions between us the previous night. Mostly our time together was great! And I was grateful to have a place to stay instead of driving home so late at night. But a combination of sadness and anger and lack of good sleep was weighing me down in the morning. I didn't really want to have to talk about it, and there was really no good time to talk about it, as by the time I was awake enough to, my friend was rushing off to work.

I, on the other hand, had decided not to rush off to anywhere. I spent some time reading and writing in my journal. Washing dishes, as a meditation of sorts. And while washing the dishes, although I was feeling displeased in many ways, I was also thinking about what was good, what did please me. So I decided to leave a thank you note. A thank you spelled out with those little glass balls that you can put in the bottom of a vase. It was pretty. And then I listed out on a post-it note what I was thankful for, such as the laughter and the food and the bed.

But then I took a step back and felt like although all this was an authentic expression of gratitude, I was creating a false impression since I was also feeling pissed. So I took out another post-it note and expressed this other side of what I was feeling. But what I wrote didn't sit right with me, especially as something to write on a post-it note of all things. So I re-wrote it. And re-wrote it again. And then I went out to my car to go to a Sheng Zhen class.

On my way out, something happened that made me laugh, and when I got in my car, I was thinking about the note I'd just written and how silly the whole thing was-- not just what I'd done but even how upset I'd been. Who cares? And I was thinking about Sheng Zhen, about compassion, Unconditional Love, no worries. I suddenly felt a lightness, this sadness and anger dissipating. So I went back into the house and re-wrote the note again, still feeling compelled to at least acknowledge that I felt a bit pissed off and sad, but without the heaviness or references to why. And then I left.

On my way to class, my mood just kept improving. I stopped off at Central Market and saw a fellow Sheng Zhen practitioner walking down the road. I got out of my car and ran after her to surprise her with a hug. It felt so good, for both of us. And then I went to AOMA. I arrived between classes and went into Master Li's office. He asked me where I was in the morning, since usually I'm there earlier. I told him that I hadn't slept well, and not wanting to get into the details, I just said that I had some problem with a friend too and needed to spend some time reading and journaling and writing my friend a note.

"I was actually having a Sheng Zhen in daily life experience," I said, and when I told him what had happened with writing a note that was really emotionally charged, and then my re-writes, and then the final re-write thanks to Sheng Zhen, he totally lit up.

We continued discussing it, and I won't recount the conversation, but I just started laughing and laughing and couldn't stop. I don't think he'd ever seen me in this state. And he was so excited about this Sheng Zhen in daily life story, saying I should share it in a television interview. And then I said "Now I feel like there's not even any need for the note I left! Maybe I should go back and remove it!" I was sort of joking about going back. But Master Li said, "Yes, go back! It's ok to miss class. Just go."

I sat with the idea for a moment, wondering if that would just be crazy. And if it would be authentic or if I was just high from all the laughter and smiling and being too influenced by Master Li's suggestion. A clear answer didn't arise, so I decided not to question it and to just go. Plus, I was no longer upset at all and knew my friend had a long day and coming home to my note might feel stressful despite the beautiful thank you's accompanying it.

But to my surprise, when I went back to remove the note, my friend had returned home for a lunch break and had already seen it! I still sensed some tension in the air, but not on my part; I was giddy as could be. So I explained why I'd returned, what I'd realized, and then went back to class, laughing all along the way. Happy as a clam. What does that even mean-- happy as a clam?

Just Googled it: "The full phrase is "happy as a clam at high tide." Clams can only be dug up at low tides, so at high tide a clam is safer and secure, so therefore, happy." Interesting.... I'd say that tapping into that happiness at the core leads to feeling safer and more secure, rather than the other way around. But I still like the sound of "happy as a clam," cuz that's what I am. ;)


© 2013 Rebecca Clio Gould. All rights reserved.

What I Really Meant to Say on Facebook

Here's what I really wanted to say in my update:

I'm sick of assholes, and I have no interest in superficial bullshit. I just don't have the time or the tolerance for it. And are people really so overwhelmed and busy these days that they can't take less than 20 seconds to reply to a text or email with a "thnx" or a "yes" or a "no" or a "maybe," or do they just not care? I just don't even understand this phenomenon of a general lack of consideration, lack of responsiveness and lack of communication skills. I've had it. I am fed up.

But since I can't stand it when people bitch and moan in FB status updates-- in fact, when I see someone complaining, I almost always go straight to settings and hide that person from my newsfeed. Do I care about you hating your cold that you've had for 7 days? No. Try asking for some healing vibes or something instead. Do you think saying "I hate this, I hate that" is gonna do any good? No. 

And now I feel like a hypocrite, cuz so far writing this negative bitch and moan blog entry feels pretty damn good. It's true. It does feel good to complain and spew anger and frustration every once in a while. But earlier, I just didn't want to go there. I just couldn't stand the thought of being someone who writes "I'm sick of assholes" as her status update, even though it is absolutely TRUE.

But it's not even what I'd originally planned on. In fact, I was sort of going to praise the assholes of my past. You see, I had sat down at my desk to work on my book, but allowed myself to get sucked into the vortext of Facebook instead. I was just going to take a few minutes to post this picture:

 And I was just gonna comment on that although I like that quote, I don't really believe in should's and if it weren't for all the poor behavior of others (and myself at times), I wouldn't have such juicy stories to write. But then that led me to thinking about assholes and all the tough and painful lessons I've attracted over the years, which eventually led me to thinking about what it is I'd prefer to attract instead.


So? Instead I posted this status update about what I want in my life rather than what I don't want in my life. Although part of being a Truth-seeker and a Truth-teller is facing the shadow and being honest about negativity, I do believe in putting more emphasis on the light and the positivity, both in a public forum and in one's own mind. Words have power. So here's how I turned it around: 

I welcome those who treat themselves and others with kindness, Love, and respect. I welcome those who show up, who do what they say they're going to do, who know how to prioritize, and who know when to say "no" as well as when to say "yes." I welcome those who communicate well with directness and clarity and kindness all at the same time. I welcome those who can handle hearing the Truth as well as speaking it. I welcome those who know and practice the power of forgiveness. I welcome those who face fears and challenges with courage, humility, and grace. I welcome those who strive for authenticity and transparency. I welcome those who have an abundance mentality and are solution-oriented. I welcome those who can be both honest and gentle with themselves and others when not living up to these ideals. I welcome those who, by example as well as through Love and acceptance, help me continue to be one of these people I welcome.

 And although that's all nice and true, and I do believe it will work some necessary magic, right now, after reading that here, the truth is that it actually feels better to just laugh it all off and say, "I'm sick of assholes! And I'm tired of bullshit." 

That's all folks! Peace out.


© 2013 Rebecca Clio Gould. All rights reserved.

Floating in the Pool

Floating in the pool, I think back to last summer in the Bahamas. I shut my eyes and send a message to Coral and Cayla, my dolphin friends. It's not a message of words, just of connection. And then I see them here with me, nudging me with their healing nudges, looking at me with their loving eyes, speaking to me in various ways. I smile.

I open my eyes as I float into the shade, looking up at the tree branches, soaking in the greenery. I need more of this. I've been spending so much time inside these days, both to escape the Texas heat and to focus on my writing. And my healing. And to sleep.

I've been sleeping more than usual during the past few weeks. And staying up later, sleeping in later, napping. Whatever I need, whenever I need it. Totally in my own rhythm. What a luxury. One I can afford due to tragedy, as well as to blessings and generosity. Destiny.

In addition to all that's been coming up through EMDR, processing all that unprocessed trauma from so long ago, the Summer Solstice shined its light on some things that I'd been denying. And I was told that week that I'd pretty much need to be pushed over the edge to grieve what needed to be grieved, and then voila! Pushed I was.

So in addition to doing a ton of writing over the past few weeks, I've also been doing a ton of grieving. Allowing myself to feel some really old stuff coming up so that I can release it. And this requires the time and space to just simply be. To make minimal commitments to others. To just commit to me. To not hold anything in. To let the tears flow. To let the laughter flow. To let the words flow. To write. To work. To play. And then to sleep, and sleep some more. Integrating. Clarifying. Healing.

Word out in the akasha, the cosmos, the aether, is that I was in that car accident for a few reasons. One of those reasons was to be defined, at least temporarily, as "someone who needs to heal." As a teenager, after the accident, that was the last thing I wanted to define myself as. It was the last thing I wanted to admit to. I was in denial. I wanted to focus on the positive. I wanted to be "normal," not someone who needed to heal. Somehow I feared that by seeking certain types of help or healing, it would actually create more problems, as if identifying as "someone who needs to heal" would be the equivalent to saying "there's something wrong with me." And the truth is, there's nothing wrong with me, but there is more healing to do. Or maybe there is "something wrong," but there's nothing wrong with that, and it will get better. And so I'm doing what needs to be done. Letting it out instead of holding it in. Admitting instead of denying. And it actually feels really good. I've never been so happy during what some might call a "depressive" phase.

And I wouldn't say I'm depressed. I'd say I'm finally listening. I'd say I'm finally not getting in my own way. I'd say I'm right on track. For nearly 3 weeks now I've cried at least a little, if not a lot, nearly every day. And it is such a gift! It's a precious, tender, beautiful time for me. Emotional cleansing like never before. Letting go where I am holding. Unfolding where I am folded. Transformation in the works. Looking forward to what's emerging.



© 2013 Rebecca Clio Gould. All rights reserved.

Mopping the Floor

I had a dream I mopped the floor. If only that were enough.

I don't mop. At least not the old fashioned way.

And that's the one definitive "I don't ____" statement I've heard myself make over the years, at least the only one I can think of. And yet it needs to be done.

And as I write "it needs to be done," I realize it only needs to be done because I think it should be done. It also occurs to me that I could hire somebody to do it. But that almost feels like too much work. And a waste of money since it'll only take me 5 to 10 minutes. Perhaps I'll just mop the floor.

I'm house-sitting and promised the place would be cleaner than how they left it. Apparently they don't mop either, or maybe just didn't have time this time. So I thought this would be something nice to do, to surprise them with super clean floors.

So although I don't mop, I went out and bought one. Not the kind that requires a bucket. I absolutely do not do that.

Maybe I just never learned the proper technique, but it always seemed to me I was making the floor dirtier, just pushing around dirty water. So I bought a steam mop instead. It's been lying on the floor by the front door, still in its package, for about 10 days now. I look at it and wonder what my resistance is. Just take it out of the package and mop the fucking floor. I've even used a steam mop before; I know it's easy. But I don't want to do it. Maybe now that I've admitted to that, I will. Maybe tomorrow I'll write about how I either ruined the hardwood floors with this mop, or laughed at myself for putting it off for so long.

I don't really know why I'm writing about this.

Perhaps just to get myself blogging again. Or perhaps because there's something deeper at play here. Something about taking on a task I don't really want to take on? Something about taking on a task I do really want to take on? Something about sometimes just wishing that my dreams or thoughts would manifest just like that, without the necessary effort or discomfort? For example, I've written numerous books in my head, while driving, lying in bed, going for walks. But those books don't really get written unless I sit down and write.  So although this thought this morning about dreaming I mopped and wishing it were enough may not seem important, or worthy of writing about, and may not have any place in a book, taking this time to sit down and write it out is part of my practice of being the writer that I am.  To not evaluate a topic's worth. To not just think about writing. To not just want to be a writer. But to be one. Even if it means posting a seemingly meaningless blog entry about mopping the floor.


© 2013 Rebecca Clio Gould. All rights reserved.

From Couch to 5k.... to Insanity!

Well, I did it. I went from being a non-runner to being a runner to realizing I'm not a runner to deciding to run once more to happily leaving running behind.

On May 30th, I ran for 30 minutes straight for the first time in-- maybe ever?  I completed the C25k (couch to 5k) app, an interval training program in which for 8 weeks, 3 days a week, I'd listen to this little voice in my phone telling me to "begin running" or "start walking." Each run was 30 to 40 minutes depending on the intervals and always starting and ending with a 5 minute walk. The goal is to be able to run 30 minutes (or 5k) nonstop within 9 weeks.

On Day 1 I wrote in my journal: It was much easier than anticipated. Running for just 60 seconds at a time is easy. I listened to fun music, ignored incoming calls. Felt a bit of a runner's high even with such short intervals. It was around sunset, and I'd only slept about 4 hours the previous night, but running gave me a 2nd wind; I went out to dance after a brief stop at home for a quick shower!

On Day 2 I wrote in my journal: It flew by. I was surprised to be told it was cool down time. I wanted more. Had a thought about running as a spiritual practice. Also thought taking up physical act of running might help me stop metaphorically running away from other things, such as physical or emotional pain through bodywork or other therapies; time to stay present, face some things, and go deeper. Felt so good after, I went to dance.

As the weeks progressed, the intervals increased, and I had more and more insights with each and every run. I thought I'd journal about it each time, but did not. Some of the most interesting runs came after I started EMDR therapy to address the unprocessed trauma of the nearly fatal accident I was in back in 1996. During these few runs, I was feeling my legs and lower body more as well as some motion-sickness. One of the things that happened once I was more in my body during my runs was that my form changed.

Previously I'd sort of been running on my toes. I was wearing Vibram five-finger shoes and thought it just might be because of that. But one day, I think it was the 2nd run with my "heavier legs," more of my foot made contact with the ground. No more tip toeing around, so to speak. I was more fully there. More connected. Previously I'd actually tried to run this way, but it didn't feel right. Whereas now, if I tried to run just from the toes/ball of my feet, that didn't feel right. Not that either way is right or wrong per se; it just depends. And there's much uncertainty in the running community about this; if you're interested, here's just one article on the topic.

What else? Oh! Probably plenty more, but what stands out the most in my memory now is my first attempt at my final run.

I was hoping to complete this program before going away for 10 days for Sheng Zhen Gong teacher training. And my final run, my first shot at running for 30 minutes without stopping, was going to be in the morning before taking off for training. But thanks to some heavy rains the previous days, I got thrown off a day. Nevertheless, I woke up that Monday morning and decided to just go for it.

Did I really need a day off between runs? I was so close to being done. I just wanted to finish this program and then I could decide when to run and for how long. I was pretty sure that running 30 minutes straight was not something I'd choose to do. But running for 10-20 minute intervals might remain in my fitness regimen.

So on Monday, May 27, I rolled out of bed, put on my shoes, told my housemate I was gonna go for it, and I went for it.

And after 23 minutes, I stopped running and started laughing. Not only had I not taken a day off between runs, but I was starting my run at least an hour later in the morning, and it was too hot for me. I'd say that after the first 8 minutes of that run, my thoughts all revolved around pushing myself, telling myself I could do this, and then thinking I might throw up or pass out, and then telling myself that's ridiculous and of course I'm ok and can do this, and then why am I even doing this?!

Of course there's an aspect of wanting to be in the best physical shape possible and loving the feeling of strengthening and using/moving my body. But I could do that through other methods. There was something about running and completing this program, whether I liked it or not, that was at play here. It was all about discipline, going beyond my comfort zone, proving something to myself. And completion; that was important to me.

During this run, each time I thought about stopping, I told myself to just keep going. Normally, in previous runs, that had felt like a healthy thing. But on this morning, it did not. It felt like ego. And not the part of my ego that can be used as a tool for my betterment.

So I stopped running and started laughing, looking back at the past 8 weeks as one long ego trip. Of course plenty of it was actually really good for me. And at times I truly did enjoy running. But it's really not the right activity for me. Cardio dancing is more my style. And it's something I'll return to soon. But first? One more fitness experiment and challenge: Insanity. Just finished week 1. For real. And I love it. Not just an ego trip. I really like it. And I'm pretty sure that C25k helped me get ready for it. But more on Insanity another time....

In the end, I actually did finish C25k. I did get in that final run of 30 minutes nonstop. Thanks to my brother's encouragement and reminder that if I'd taken a day off between runs and gone out earlier in the morning, I probably would not have stopped; I would have ran that whole 30 minutes. Plus I haven't totally relinquished the part of myself that likes to prove things to myself. So I did it. I left the 10 day training to do it. I drove home for the night so that I could run in the morning. Didn't want any excuses, like not getting enough sleep because of a roommate or not being able to run because of the terrain. So on May 30th, I woke up in my own bed, and this time I went out an hour earlier than usual, to beat the heat and get it done. And it felt so good. Piece of cake actually. My brother was right. Although there was some truth in my ego trip insights, that wouldn't have been enough to make me quit with just 7 minutes left to go. I just needed some recovery time and cooler weather. Hooray! I did it. I'm done.

And now? Off to start Week 2 of Insanity. :)


© 2013 Rebecca Clio Gould. All rights reserved.

Okay

Just stumbled upon this journal entry from April:

He asked me if I was okay, and to my surprise, I said, “No." 
 Time sort of stood still once this foreign word came out of my mouth.  

--> Don’t get me wrong; I say “no” quite often. But I can’t even remember the last time I said it in response to the question “are you okay?”

“Ok” isn’t even saying much, so even if I’m upset, if something’s wrong, I am always “okay.” Of course I'm "okay!" But… sometimes there’s a "but."

So today, instead of saying, “yes, but,” I simply said, “No."

I felt confused afterwards as to whether this was a more honest response or more dishonest, since I do know that I'm OK.

Looking over this now, plus looking at a bit more of the entry that's not typed above, I add to what's above below:

I wondered at the time if there was something going on here around the issue of denial, like that by saying "no," I was practicing not being in denial. I also wondered if it was more about semantics and my beliefs around the power of words than about denial. I think now it's a bit of both. 

I guess my tendency was to feel that if I say I'm "not ok," it's like I'm saying something's really not ok, like on a deeper level. Or that it's feeding into some negative programming. And why on Earth would I want to do that? Because that's what people typically do? No. But also Yes. 



Is it possible to overdo thinking before speaking? Is it possible for conscious language to get in the way of being a fully alive, authentic, communicative being?? Abso-freakin-lutely! So what if I know I'm always okay at the core of my being? Sometimes I'm not okay! I'm human. And once that's admitted, once that's spoken, whether just to myself or to others, I usually start to feel authentically okay again. Funny how that works. Like a confessional. Not that I've ever been in one. But I've always been intrigued by that part of Catholicism. And that's a whole other topic, one I won't get into now.

El Fin!




© 2013 Rebecca Clio Gould. All rights reserved.
 

 

Flying Cockroaches!

Last night I was welcomed home by a huge cockroach on the ceiling of my bedroom. And by "huge" I mean the body was at least 2 inches plus antennae that were a few inches long. My housemate came up with a spray bottle of bleach and a fly swatter to help me capture it under a bowl, but it outsmarted us, hiding sort of inside the bottom of the bookcase I'd pulled away from the wall to help us get to it.

So I decided to push the bookcase back up against the wall and just pretend it was trapped in there now. The only other option required too much effort (emptying out the bookcase), and I was tired. Plus, I thought cockroaches didn't bother me. No big deal to have one in my room, right? Even with my bed being on the floor. Besides, it had been a long day with very little sleep, so I figured I'd crash so hard that I wouldn't even notice if it ended up in bed with me!

But I was wrong. I didn't have the nerve to turn on the light when it happened, but I'm pretty sure there was a cockroach on my arm at least once, maybe twice, in the middle of the night. And then around 4:30 in the morning, I turned on my light. And there it was, up on the ceiling, not too far from my bed. I won't get into the details of the chase that ensued before finally capturing it, except for one thing: this cockroach flew across my room.

I'd never seen anything like this! I didn't even know that cockroaches could fly. Not really. My housemate had mentioned that they could fly, but I didn't believe it! Until it happened, and in a big way, all the way across my room. I stood there for a moment, eyes wide, in disbelief, and then laughter took over. And clarity; it was time to go downstairs to get a bigger bowl and the bleach (spraying a cockroach with bleach just slows it down enough to trap it under a bowl). I couldn't have a flying cockroach in my room, at least not if I wanted to go back to sleep.

And today I'm still laughing over the whole thing; I've actually been laughing a lot since yesterday morning, but perhaps that'll be another entry, a "Sheng Zhen in Daily Life" story.... Back to flying cockroaches: When I told my housemate about what had happened, she told me a funny story.

Her daughter and nephew woke up one night screaming and yelling. She and her ex-husband went into the room and asked what was going on. They said there was a flying cockroach. But it was nowhere to be seen, so her ex told  them to calm down, saying it wouldn't hurt them and to just go back to sleep. And then out of the blue, the cockroach flew around the room in a big circle and then landed right on his forehead! And of course he started freaking out. I like that story.

And that's all I have to say about cockroaches for now. Other than that seeing one fly actually is pretty cool.


© 2013 Rebecca Clio Gould. All rights reserved.