Monthly Archives: October 2012

Somebody Turn On the Silence!

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Adirondack magic. Perfect place for silence.

Does silence carry the same weight as noise? Is quiet as valuable a life commodity as talk, TV, radio, video, movies, music?

Yesterday I was at the gym. The gym is a public place, and people, within reason, will do what people will do. Which is to say, talk nonstop for 20 minutes in the hot tub. And talk. And talk. While the music from the speakers blasts. Nice music. Happy talk. But could I have gone to someone in charge and said, “Could we now have 20 minutes of complete silence?”

Probably not.

In my home, I sometimes insist, during the negotiations about who gets custody of the remote, that opting for an hour of no TV is as viable an option as a certain channel.  Occasionally, if I insist with a bit of gusto, we do have the gift of that hour.

Silence is powerful. Silence is not nothing. Silence is rich and full and allows us to be with ourselves without interference or mediation. A lovely book I read recently was about a woman who for almost a decade kept every Monday a silent day. She had a  husband, two sons, responsibilities. But maintaining silence kept her centered and whole, and gave her to herself in a unique way.

I don’t have the courage yet to inject that sort of practice into my schedule. But I aspire to it. I think it would nourish and sustain me. I crave peace, serenity, simplicity. Silence gives me those.

Over the years I have gone on several silent weekend retreats. Delicious!  This was not an enforced silence, like in second grade when the scary teacher threatened some horrid punishment if you made a peep. This was a chosen silence. There were others present. We didn’t talk. We smiled at one another, handed each other a coffee cup, held a door. We were in silence, together. Our silence was rich.

Even during the day, when I choose to turn off NPR, skip Netflix, take a few moments to just be, I am nurtured. I can hear that still small voice, the me that lives in me as me.

That’s  a gift.

I love people, conversation, TV, music, NPR, Netflix. But I love silence, too. You?

Can You Count to 1000?

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My friend Lee recommended the book One Thousand Gifts, not for the story, but for a grand idea it contained. The book itself wasn’t my taste (I skimmed through at Barnes & Noble), but its winning principle is to make a list of 1,000 things you’re grateful for, without ever repeating anything.

So a few weeks ago I started a gratitude journal. Every night before bed I write down at least four or five things I’m grateful for. What is so very cool is that once you’ve run through things like good health, shelter, nice food, gorgeous weather—the obvious stuff—well, you have to look a little deeper. Remember, you can’t list something more than once. I’m up to 289.

At one point, I decided to get really optimistic, and I listed a whole bunch of stuff I would be thankful for were it to appear. A full-time job. A new couch. My guy to win the upcoming election. A self-cleaning house. A puppy who comes with a trust fund and a full-time trainer. Peace on earth. Like that.

But mostly I reflect on my day, what I saw, did and experienced. To do that, I’ve during the day I need to look for things to write down. And with all this looking for things to list, what’s happened is I’ve become more alert and aware. The more I look, the more I see. The more I see, the more I look.

Do this and the next thing you know, you are in the moment. In your life. Right there smack dab in the middle of it, right where you belong. And you’re in that soft and powerful place of knowing that no matter what’s going on in your life you can find beauty, joy, kindness in yourself and in the world around you.

Now that’s a gift, don’t you think?

Forget Self-Love. Try Self-TRUST!

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Love yourself ! I hear this non-stop from all the villagers allied to help me stay safe, sane and joyful. They’ve been telling me this for about a billion years.

And it’s good advice for someone chugging along toward ever-greater mental, emotional and physical good health. I have no quarrel with this wisdom. In pursuit of peace of mind, I worked hard to drop destructive behaviors like eating foods that are bad for me, shopping till the credit card wore out, mean-spirited gossiping, listening to bad advice, etc., etc.

I showed up and chanted “I love you, Gay. I love you, Gay,” just like a mentor taught me, even though it felt really weird. I gave myself real little hugs, took long soak-y baths, bought scented lotion and learned that “No” is a complete sentence. I began to to advocate for my own needs, exercise, manage money responsibly, and to make the haircut appointment well before the Do turns into a Don’t.

It worked, some. But oh, the mind-habit of negative self-talk was dying a slow, hard death. And it can bring you down into depression and defeatism in nothing flat.

I decided, based on the number of angry, resentful thoughts, that the next step was to do some hard-core forgiveness work. Sure folks have done me wrong. But do I want them living rent-free in my head as I ruminate? I think not. And I knew I also needed liberation from the grudges against myself. Sure I’ve made mistakes. But should I be punished forever? Nah.

For years, on and off, I’ve written and chanted the affirmation, “I forgive myself for hurting myself. I forgive myself for hurting others. I forgive others for hurting me.” It’s powerful, and I highly recommend it. As in, what you focus on tends to grow, and all.

Recently I’ve taken to working diligently with Belleruth Naparstek’s CD, “Anger and Forgiveness.”  After lunch, a rest with Belleruth’s guided imagery and affirmations is a thrice-weekly routine. Oh, the places we go! Way down into the deep hurt that was under that enormous pile of grudge. Stay with it, feel into it. Process it.

And into the mix came my spiritually focused peer support group. Last Saturday, because I was leading the meeting, I invited recovering folks to address the topic, “Anger, forgiveness and acceptance.” Wow! Did I get an earful.

For me the pivotal moment was when someone said, “When you forgive someone, that doesn’t mean you have to trust them.” Right. But the next question is, well, if I’m not going to trust people, who will I trust? God as I understand God is the obvious answer. But what does that actually mean, I thought.

Trust yourself! That was the answer! God lives in you as you, Liz Gilbert says in Eat. Pray. Love. Yes!

I accepted the challenge.

And since then, when the scared, anxious, defeatist, depressive thoughts rise, I’ve been relaxing my tense belly, dropping my tight shoulders and saying, “Trust yourself.” Wham! Away goes the nonsense about figuring out the “right” or “perfect” thing. I can be in me, as me!

Slipping out of that, into “trust yourself” makes things so simple.

Whew! That’s a load off. I can be trusted. I trust myself. Love is good. I love love. But trust, well, that’s a form of love in action, don’t you think?

Trust yourself. It really works. Trust me.