From the Trenches

Things change every day as a parent. Being a parent requires extreme flexibility. It requires quickness and sharpness of mind. It requires creativity. Being a parent, especially of young children, teaches you how to be a Buddha.

One of the main teachings of zee jolly-bellied Buddha is that attachment leads to suffering. This is so true in the parental trenches. If you are attached to a particular outcome or if you become accustomed to the way your child acts in situations, when that changes, it will lead to pain (read: insanity).

In that sense, Dax must make me a better person every day as the patience grows and grows. I have to let go of my vision of things, the way the ego WANTS things to go, and just let them BE. Parenting a baby and remaining sane requires that mentality.

If I'm saying, 'Dax will go down for a nap now and sleep for like two hours.' I try to erase it immediately and say, 'He might not nap, and if that is the case, that will be ok.' Otherwise, the mind goes berserk.

In some ways, having a baby requires you to plan MORE. But on the flip side, having a baby also requires you to plan LESS.

To adapt to the new mommyhood and keep the sanity, here's a few things done around here to maintain the Buddha brain (i.e. not lose the mind, cultivating peace instead):

1) We listen to Pandora all day long when Dax is awake and we're at home. Listening to music adds magic to the moments. It helps one use the adult brain and think adult thoughts and feel adult things. It adds background to the smiles and laughs and goings-abouts of Dax.

2) Traded cars with my husband so that we can leave every day if need be. Not sure how thrilled Dave is to be driving my no-AC little old purple pickup across San Diego county every day (p.s. I love you babe), but it sure beats the craziness that ensues if Dax and I sit home all day .

3) I sign up for my mom's groups meetups that intrigue me & agree to lots of other plans that do the same, EVEN if they are during Dax's naptimes or make his nighttime schedule a little off. I don't know how, but 92% of the time it works out just fine. I don't do it all the time, but I find that a little faith goes a long way.

4) Quit worrying about what to do about Dax in the sleep department. The kid is gunna sleep just fine someday. Right now, he's happy as ever, so what the heck does it matter? Let's just gunna ride this out and not bang the head against a brick wall for the next year or so. See how Buddha that is? Non-attachment to solutions? Check.

5) Learned to clean as the day goes. Well, gotten better. Dax is friggin messy. And this house induces hives if a couple days go by without a clutter-clean, a kitchen floor sweep, a wet mop on the tile. It gets messier, quicker. And I suck at cleaning, so this is a revelation. It's become...more habitual. Out of necessity, of course.

6) Aiming to go to bed at a decent hours, letting go of the need for solitude. I suck as a parent when tired. That must override the ridiculous need to browse the net till midnight. However, sometimes the numbness of the web is necessary. And that's ok too.

There's prolly a thousand more examples. What about you? What things help you let go and flow within the mommy moments?

inquiring minds want to know...

Home Is What I Say It Is

There's something about San Diego. Lately. I've been here two years. A little over two years. And this summer has rushed me like a swarm of joy. It reminds me of the importance of Place.

I've heard people say that if you want to run away, that the You that you were will follow you. You can't escape you. No amount of beautiful geography will erase that. You're You.

I get it. I get what they are getting at. And it makes sense. But that doesn't mean a person shouldn't Just Move.

I never wanted to leave a place because I was afraid of myself.

OK. Maybe that's a lie. When I was young, and a wee little rebel kitten in Fargo, I needed to leave me behind. That little girl was broken. Innocently so. But still. The move was symbolic and necessary. I needed to erase myself. OK. Parts of myself. Parts of myself that weren't actually My Self.

And it worked. Like a charm. My wanderlust fulfilled. For a bit. So even though people say 'Don't move if it's YOU that you don't like,' I kind of disagree. I think sometimes that's EXACTLY what you need to do.

Anyway...

The circumstances weren't as dire this time around. The moments weren't nearly as electric, as we contemplated a move from Phoenix to San Diego. It was more like a dull whine. An internal metronome that progressively got faster as the years past. I wanted to. Needed to. But for no specific reasons. Just Cuz. Was Just Cause. And so we left...

Home IS where the heart is. That's what I believe is really settling with me lately. This summer brings with it waves of content. I feel like I am home. This might seem like piddel-ee-dee to some, but I can't tell you how long I've yearned for that place of rest in my heart.

When I was young, I always wanted to leave. I knew from a very young age that Fargo couldn't keep me. Is there love for my place of youth? Of course. But is it home?  Naw...  And although Phoenix kept me stationary slash still for awhile, I knew it wasn't where my roots would grow.

So Here I Am. I guess that's all I'm saying. That it feels good. I can see our family growing here for years. I can see this landscape filling up our memories. That feels good to be where I want to be. Finally.

I'm also saying that there's some kind of weird internal compass inside of each person and sometimes when it wants to move, it simply wants to move, and it doesn't mean you're trying to run from anything. It simply is what is and no more. Sometimes it's ok to just go there. Because your heart said so. 

Downtown San Diego skyline viewed from Harbor Island

May We Always Remember This

Your children are not your children.

They are the sons and daughters 

of Life's longing for itself.

They come through you 

but not from you,

And though they are with you, 

they belong not to you.

You may give them your love 

but not your thoughts.

For they have their own thoughts.

You may house their bodies 

but not their souls,

For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, 

not even in your dreams.

You may strive to be like them, 

but seek not to make them like you.

For life goes not backward 

nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children 

as living arrows are sent forth.

The archer sees the mark 

upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might 

that His arrows may go swift and far.

Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;

For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.

"On Children"

by Kahlil Gibran

A Mother's Lament and/or A Spiritual Journey

The words felt like big chunky things stuck in my throat. So when I dislodged them, they fell so hard out of me, they broke a dam. Tears rushed my eys.

"I feel so desperate," my head hung down in the yellow light of the kitchen, "I feel so desperate for time alone." The whispered words raw against the darkness framed in the windows. I could barely look at you.

"I'm running on empty. I feel so out of gas that even when someone takes him. I'm so far below 'E' that it doesn't even change it. I still feel so in need."

The truth made me feel ashamed. 

I went to the bookstore the other day. I used to browse for hours, a kind of lazy meditation. This time I whizzed passed the random sections that used to amuse me, in lieu of what I came for: Reprieve via the Parenting Section. I have no time for languid browsing. Another thought: To mourn this is a waste of time.

The past is the past. It IS a compilation of memory and our feelings about those memories. It no longer exists.

The future is an illusion. F**k the future. I can not sit around waiting for my babies to grow up before I start living again.

I choose to live in The Now.

But how? My spirit is limping.

I imagine myself posting quotes on my mirror (and I'm paraphrasing here because I don't feel like googling these exact quotes so here's my approximations):

"the measure of a man is not how he does during the good times, but how he reacts during the challenging ones"

"think not of all the ways something can not be, but instead think of all the ways that it might be"

"think not that something is a hindrance or a problem, but instead as a challenge."

I do not tack these on my mirror though. Instead

I buy a book called "Buddhism for Mothers of Young Children." I'm thinking (praying) a little spirituality might keep me steady. I read it in the bath. I cancelled all my Real Housewives shows on my DVR. I am looking for the time. I played Pandora all day today and felt better, a soft guitar makes pouring the fresh pureed carrots into the blue ice cube trays seem poetic and light. I try to rearrange my thinking: Every moment is a moment for me.

Dax holds me in The Present. He requires me to be there almost every second. It's exhausting. It's exhilerating. It simply IS. And it IS NOT changing. I've never been in a tough place that I didn't want To Leave. This parenthood thing. This is different. I don't want out. (Obviously).

But...if I am to come out of this thing buoyant and glowing...

How can I stand the standing still? The most precious pain of The Present?

What Dreams May Come

I'm looking for poetic things in the cracks of my dreams last night. I remember people leaving each other, laying next to one other underneath the stars. Isn't that too intimate of a place to say goodbye?

I remember giant yellow magnets...and the one that said 'It Is Done.' The artsy picture then became a movie, and I woke up thinking it was beautiful. These dreams. They don't make sense. Even less so--I see--my words fail to organize them.

What of DREAMS now? Aren't they so vivid? Is it the postpartum hormones? Or the intense shift of my identity? Am I sifting through the remnants of some past me? Looking to find what to keep and what to throw? Is the EGO re-defining? Yes....

I ache for all things beautiful. These dreams are delicate, pretty. I like that. My life dreams are like my night dreams...

Time is different now. Precious. And unpredictable.

Everything I want is tied up in this family's future. In Dax's future. In our future children's future. What I hope TO DO is not as important now as WHY.

(In between dreams...) I am laying down next to me in the grass. Under the stars. Thinking 'isn't this too intimate of a place to say good-bye'?

The Late Late Show

I'm writing this now as Dave sleeps, the washer machine whirs, the cats look on questioningly, and the twinkle lights in the tree are the only muted yellow light in the living room. I'm not sure why I'm here now. I guess I can't sleep.

I'm thinking about San Diego. It's been a year now. A year here and not there. In Phoenix. It's been only a year and I know already that I won't ever be moving back there. Although I miss odd things like crazy...our fave pizza place, the ceiling of our old apartment, the summer heat like an oven, the azure blue pools, the clean uncracked streets, the proximity of my father.

But you know when you just know right? You just know...
And we already know. Why? No idea. Do you believe in fate? Destiny? Pre-destination? A guiding light, hand, power, force, god perhaps? I do.

I didn't have a very religious upbringing (thank god ;-)), but I do believe in God. For lack of a better word. That relationship I have with that mystery force is Real to me. Comforting. I shovel prayer into it so we get closer. I Believe. In Love. In Goodness. In Grace. In Truth.

But sometimes after the Small Things lull me, like putting my hands together before sleeping, I contemplate the Big Things...like 'What's it all about? Where are we going?' And while I feel like I know it's going to be o.k...I have to say that, The Truth Is, on the specifics...

i don't know  
you don't know  
we don't know.

Day 140 - On Books, The Big and Small

1. The Big

The bookstore is a magical place. For me, a trip to the bookstore is probably like a spa day is to a rich dame. I get there, and it's all *sigh*. Sanctuary. Everything can be fixed here.

I can learn to cook, knit, meditate, and travel right here. Everything I need to know is a book away. I'm reminded of how many things there are to love in this world. How many words I need to read. How many countries to see. How many heart-aches and transformations, the world weeps. I'm surrounded by memory and possibility. Left-over pictures and paragraphs. Remnants of thought, experience. It's days like today, where I have nothing to avoid (DMV or dishes), that I get the most done.

I'm relaxing into life here in San Diego. It's home. I haven't felt like this since Fargo, circa childhood and early adolescence. I have a wandering spirit. A rogue will. I like to strive for the next best thing. The here and now has no hold on me.

I can hear your words now. You'll tell me that that's no way to live. And I know that. That's why I want to say it out loud. Call it like I see it. Don't we all wait for tomorrow? But that's enough of that. I tell my inner nomad. Relax.

I wish I could live moments inside other people. Live their moments for them. Perhaps that's why I love books so much. In fantastical chapters, I'm in South Africa as a dying man; in Pennsylvania as a lonely seamstress; I'm in India, the son of a zookeeper. I'm the world's consciousness. I'm in my living room.

Isn't that why we're here? In cyberspace? To pity and love one another? To read that never-ending reality T.V. show?

2. The Small

I noticed "The Nook" being advertised at Barnes and Noble today. The Nook is the new device where we can all read our fave novels on the small screen. You can buy books like apps. You can read "Crime and Punishment" on your laptop.

And I totally get it. I think in a way it's good because I believe in conservation. And if I have/use a brain, I realize that to make books you have to make paper. You have to shave it from trees, chew it up, and release it into pages. I know that the spines on my bookshelves come from the spines of the forest.

But I think we can also all agree that it's just not the same. Just as we've lost the art of the CD cover, we'll lose the art of the held book. While I don't miss CD jackets so much, I would absolutely miss the colored words on my mantel ledge.

I need the smell of them. I need to turn the page. Not push the button. I need the tangible journey. I need to see the pages I've past to see how far I've come. I need them to pile up. I need to see how far I have yet to go. Electronically, you lose all that. You're just swimming around in book space. You're on a page, but you can't see physically where the end is. There's something to that.

I also secretly believe that people who love those electronic book devices, possibly don't really love books at all. I don't have any basis for this assumption. But there it is.

So I'm thinking we should compromise before we go all e-booking all over the place. How about more books from recycled stuff? Or maybe we could just stop making magazines into pages? I can read mags on the screen, no problem.

But novels need real paper. They need to be quiet, run without batteries. They need to remain unattached to the real world. Like little paper sanctuaries. Mini-revolutionaries protecting us from the buzz and the whirl.

Day 117 - Random Gratitudes

To counteract the other day's rant...let's take a trip down gratitude lane....

1. I am grateful for great medical insurance and care. Today, my new "women's care" doc actually stopped to listen to me speak. Her responses? "You've done your research!" and "Isn't that interesting?" I love her.
2. I am grateful for chamomile tea. The eight-day-uncaffeinated me looks forward to this hot herbal treat.
3. I am grateful for yesterday. Dave and I spent our day hand-in-hand at Disneyland. While mostly it was color and shape and sound overload, we enjoyed the awe-struck stroll. I love just being with him. Anywhere.
4. I am grateful for all the fanciful creations at Disneyland. I like to think about the care and thought beyond the attractions and exhibits. How someone meticulously carved the face of each pirate in 'The Pirates of the Caribbean.' How someone sewed all the seasonal costumes for Mickey and Minnie. How someone strung up all the Halloween lights and webs on Main Street. I'm grateful for the street sweeper, the cashier, and the candy scooper.
5. I am grateful for mini-road trips with Dave and nice hotels in Anaheim.
6. I am grateful my cats, Trick Daddy and Diego, kinda sorta get along now.
7. I am grateful that my mom and brother got little Nova for the weekend! I am also grateful that my sis and her husband got a weekend with no baby. How was it guys???

What are YOU grateful for???

Day 101 - Random Gratitudes

O.k., obviously not a Wednesday, but does it matter? The Gratitude List, randomly placed...

1. I am grateful for a fresh oranges; it's a bit like licking sunshine.
2. I am grateful for the sunny softball field yesterday. I'm sore and old. We lost big time. I don't care.
3. I am grateful for movie theaters. Overpriced popcorn and candy make me giddy. Sitting with my legs rested on Dave's lap in the cool dark is delicious.
4. I am grateful that my kitty Diego's eye infection is not serious. I'm even more grateful that our new San Diego veteranarian ROCKS! When moving to this new town, we worry/worried about picking new docs and dentists and haircutters and vets. A random google search and we get lucky lucky.
5. I am grateful my little niece Nova is crawling! (p.s. because I know you want constant up-to-date info on my fave little girl, you can get it by going to/following my sister's blog http://stacy-interiorview.blogspot.com/. She might kill me for that, but I don't care.)

What are YOU grateful for?

Day 91 - Gratitude Wednesdays

My weekly gratitudes for The Gratitude List...

1. I am grateful for the purr of little Diego on my belly right now.
2. I am grateful for discount art supplies.
3. I am grateful for fresh-squeezed orange juice.
4. I am grateful for a text from my possible new San Diego friend. Social life--here I come!
5. I am grateful our friend Remy got a job out here in San Diego and now lives here!
6. I am grateful for fun conversations with my coworkers today.
7. I am grateful for movies on demand here in SD. Phoenix is sooooo lagging!
8. I am grateful for etsy.
9. I am grateful that most people in my family live free from disease and live comfortably--we all have beds and cars and clothes.
10. I am grateful for the nice wood color of my kitchen floor.

Leave your gratitudes too! WHAT ARE YOU GRATEFUL FOR?

Day 84 - Gratitude Wednesdays

Because I(we) can get all crappy about life...I am stealing my step-second-cousin's friends idea, and adding it to my blog as a Wednesday staple. So please welcome, The Gratitude List, to your hump day. So every week, I(we) focus--plain and simple--on what rocks about life. Please comment and add your lists!!!! I love to learn about people in that way. What they're grateful for is a lovely way to get to know people....

1. I'm grateful for the week I just spent with Nova--she is just a treasure.
2. I'm grateful that my dad and stepmother pay for the rental of the Carlsbad beach house every year.
3. I am grateful for the final paying off of my car recently; our debt reduction techniques are paying off!
4. I am grateful for the recent hot hot heat here in California--I love it HAWT!
5. I am grateful for Trader Joe's near my house. How is it so cheap and so good?
6. I am grateful that my brother loves to play board games as much as I do--we could entertain ourselves for days.
7. I am grateful that Dave got some time off while my family visited.
8. I am grateful for the sound of the waves and the view of the horizon on the beach.
9. I am grateful that I live in a city that most people want to vacation in. It's packed with things to do and see. Beautiful.
10. I am grateful that my friend Bethany is enjoying grad school!

WHAT ARE YOU GRATEFUL FOR??!!!

Day 72 - With Every Season, Turn Turn Turn

Seems to me that life is cyclical. Sometimes we build. We put our head downs, get the plow out, and plant seeds in the soil. We silently move through the motions of our work. We hear wind, our thoughts absent. We nod at each other as we pass. We act like mammals; we gather and store and dig foundations. We work.

Still other times in life, we enjoy the fruits of our labor. We reap what we sow. We eat and drink with joy. We let go; our whole being smiles. We relax back into our chairs and think it doesn't get any better than this. Our goals our hopes our dreams accomplished. We feel complete. We feel happy.

And then after a period of abundance and ease, we wish again. We aim our sights at yet another peak in the distance. We pack up our knapsacks. We prepare for our journey. We see for ourselves yet another self. Higher than ever. Better. We say good-bye to our comfortable spot on the sand.

We put our heads down. We block the wind with our arm. We walk forward. We push. Trek through the valley, to reach the next mountaintop. The cycle continues.

Right now I feel like Dave and I are together in the valley pushing forward. We're holding hands and we're silent. Our eyes are fixed on our next resting plateau, awed by the heights we've set for them.

Day 64 - The Gratitude List

I've been feeling kind of overwhelmed and grouchy lately. I think my system is a bit in shock; I've been working nearly full-time lately, and I've been so downright spoiled the last year or so that I'm having trouble re-adjusting. Many of my life goals are taking a backseat to the practicalities of bringing home a paycheck. While I do like my job, I am feeling a bit nostalgic for my freer days. Soooo...I figure I need a bit of a perspective check.

A couple years ago, I was invited by my totally amazing step-second-cousin (you heard me ;-)) to join an email group. It was called "The Gratitude List." Basically, everyday you wrote out a list. Each line started with "I'm grateful for." When you finished, you CC'd everyone on that list. Every day you received the gratitude lists of the other members as well.

I found that some days I could go on forever with soaring gratitudes. Other days I could barely squeak out "I'm grateful for having two arms." Either way, over the course of the next few months, I found myself happier. I had A LOT to be grateful for. I also found myself recognizing and acknowledging the good things as they happened. If a friendly cashier asked me how my day was while another bagged my groceries I'd think, "I'm grateful for nice people and grocery baggers."

Over time, I quit writing out my daily list to the gratituders. But I learned something precious: Be Grateful.

In the book "The Art of Happiness" which chronicles a series of interviews that an American psychologist conducts with the Dalai Lama, the Dalai Lama suggests that when we're feeling down about ourselves or our situation, it's important to meditate on what you do have.

So here goes...for a shot of happy perspective to the arm...The Gratitude List Revisited

1. I'm grateful for my two cats whose personalities and quirks make me giggle.
2. I'm grateful that I'll be seeing my neice Nova on Saturday!
3. I'm grateful that my cousin Josh's band will be playing in Fargo Saturday night and many of my cousins will be drinking cold beers and enjoying his rad bass playing.
4. I'm grateful that I'll get to see my oldest and bestest friend Tiffany in Fargo, and that I'll actually get to see her daughter Kylie on her birthday!
5. I'm grateful that Dave is so appreciative of my cooking.
6. I'm grateful that I'm almost two months of no smoking.
7. I'm grateful that my co-workers are easy to work with.
8. I'm grateful for debt reduction.
9. I'm grateful for the music website Pandora.
10. I'm grateful for the want and the will that I have to paint!

O.k., there's 10! Now, one of my favorite things about "The Gratitude List" was reading the other people's lists! So please please please, comment, and send me YOUR gratitude lists! Atleast three things, but as many as you like!

Day 41 - Dare I Say...

I'm evolving. As a human. You heard me.

'How can I know for sure?' you ask. And I'll tell you...

One of my faults is my over-developed defense mechanisms. While a defense mechanism can be quite necessary, saving one from all sorts of emotional damage, mine is a touch overzealous.

In an effort to keep my confidence soaring high, unbridled by pesky insecurities, my defense mechanism will reject and/or completely shred the ego offender to bits.

You see, if I'm good at something, and by good, I mean totally awesome and better than most, my heart sings joyous praise of my new favorite hobby/game/sport.

However, if I am not good at something, and by not good, I mean mediocre, a total loser, or even just third place, then my defense mechanism completely and utterly disavows the entire activity. You're likely to hear a very sharp-tongued and witty and intelligent-sounding diatribe prolonged only in direct proportion to my failure or loss or fear.

Most people who know me grow weary of these lengthy analyzations as to why golf or chess or scuba diving (which I respectively have failed at, lossed at, and fear) are complete and utter wastes of time. Illogical at best and ridiculous at worst.

On the other hand, ping-pong and roller skating (both at which I excel) rise above the rest. I got me buckets full of good words for these useful and high-minded activities.

My point? Oh yes, that. So, as you all know, since this blog inception and my subsequent to-do list (see sidebar "progress report"), I've failed on several occasions. And by failed, I mean not done my goal list 100% totally awesome completely fail-safe.

Due to my very developed aforementioned defense mechanism combined with an equally developed i-can-justify-anything-if-i-want-to mechanism, I normally would quit. I mean geez, I have to protect myself.

Soooo, since I have neither quit nor abandoned nor succeeded to the standards I so desire, I consider this evolution. Aha!

p.s. I also did a Bollywood dance video today on exerciseTV. Critique: total thumbs up. bollywood is the best. perhaps the most evolved and beat-centric dancing of our century. and probably the most arm sculpting. Disclaimer: I also ROCKED at it, so you can't really trust me.

Day 40 - I Left My Art in San Diego

As I unscrewed the clean white tops of the new paint tubes today, I breathed a joyful sigh and smile. The fresh white canvas felt crisp and new out of the wrapper. As I filled a cup with water, I flipped through ideas in my head. After squeezing the thick paint onto the palette, I scooped the colors onto the brush and then pushed them into abstract shapes on the small 12 X 12 space.

What gives us joy is something to pay attention to. Didn't the master of the universe implant loves in our soul before we took up our human form? Isn't there a reason why I can't stand the sight of blood, therefore ruling out the medical profession? Or why I shy from unnecessary danger, ruling out skiing instruction or the army? I believe yes.

What action moves us and calms us at the same time? Watch for these. Make time for these. There's power in that. And transformation. It's different for each person. It's flying planes for one and taking photos for another. It's computers or buildings, music or numbers, gardening or teaching. Some may argue, 'i don't know what it is though.' But you do.

Day 10 - These Thoughts are Throw-Aways

Today is quiet thus-far. I'm writing this earlier than normal as I actually have a social engagement to go to this evening! (clapping and cheers) Some friends of Dave's, a couple, who I really dig, are throwing some kind of birthday bash. I am giddy with excitement. This sounds so desperate, but seriously, I'm lonely out here. And plus, I get to wear a dress.

I'm on day six of not smoking, and the physical withdrawals are pretty calm, no violent uprising. The new screw is the mental aspect, that swoops in after the physical. I can't even count on my fingers how many times I've envisioned myself on the back porch today, looking off in the distance, cigarette in hand. The vision is alluring and lethal. I reach for more coffee.

My body has decided I've done enough for now. Congratulating me on my accomplishments thus far. But today the visions of putting down everything are vivid. A little lazy voice in me says, "Do you realize the kind of commitment it takes to be happy? You don't have it in you..."

I finished my "page a day" goal for today, but I think that's the kicker. I can't see beyond it. The thing with the writing is that I really really care. I kind of sort of believe it might just be all that I have left. Which for some reason, registers any kind of action as purely terrifying.

Some people, I believe, are afraid of failure. And therefore never try. However, others are actually more paralyzed by the idea of success. I've decided that I can't decide which one I fear more: success or failure. I'm convinced it's a healthy dose of both.

Day Six - Withdrawals. Are. Tough.

Heart is pounding. Refridgerator humming, makes me anxious. I'm hungry and not hungry, chewing gum. Pass, day, pass. Sunshine streams through, isn't it a happy day? Shouldn't you be free? Stop yelling at yourself.

Junkie, junkie. You're a maniac. A down right slovenly f@&#. If I could see you I'd punch you in the nose. A mirror? No, no--it's not me, it's him.

Quitting smoking is a little like an exorcism. Screaming ghost, go away. When does the pain peak? Oh tomorrow and the next; this isn't the worst of it. It's physical for days. Then it's weeks of mental.

The Dalai Lama thinks change is facilitated more readily by a sense of urgency. If we only knew the potential of our body and soul to bring about goodness, then we might adopt habits and goals quickly. 'Think about death' is his kind of advice. You won't be here forever, so every moment is precious. These thoughts might catapult us to change.

And so I think about it, as I look to my next tasks. Eating well...exercise....out of debt...work on 'the book'...a piece of art. Am I supposed to do this right NOW? With urgency. I beg myself to wait, wait, wait.

I want to keep pushing myself, because I want real change. I pick yoga/pilates/exercise as next task. Starting tomorrow, five days a week. This is one of those even harder more continuous goals. A job is a one-time thing: get one. Quitting smoking is a one-time thing: just quit. The pain of these wears off. I'm better at goals like that. Much better.

But exercising five days a week, that means fighting your inner complaints and lethargy five times a week. Stuffing a sock in the mouth of Lazy, another funny friend. Lazy and Junkie love each other. BFF's, two peas in a pod. What if I don't even recognize myself? I'm afraid. Of real change.

Day Five - Losing Sleep, Ignoring Time

Couldn't sleep last night for the life of me. Woefully, with nostalgic gusto and internal good-byes, I puffed and put out my last cigarette before bed. Laid next to Dave, reading "The Power of Now," until flipping the lamp off. Tossed and turned (people say that a lot but I really did), until hours later, night ate me alive.

Morning sounds an alarm. Get up. Shower. Iron outfit. Pour coffee. And then, like a soldier mindfully preparing for battle, carefully cut open "the patch" and apply it to my hidden skin. It's right under my heart and I start to worry. Rip it off. Re-apply to the side. What organ gets poisoned now? It starts to itch.

Work is easy. First day paperwork filled out in the back room. Nothing to fret for, lose sleep for...I think about yesterday and scribble a note to my ego: 'See? Dumbass...' Right after leaving, I tear off the clear plastic nicotine bandage in my car. I don't need it. Work is weak this week (only one more day); so I'm free to feel the Junkie scream as I smother him. There's no better way to quit than cold turkey--cold sweats and crawling skin, make me feel alive.

Thinking all day about that book from last night. Trying hard to find the narrow edge of Now, the razor slit of time wedged between the open-wound Past and the healed Future. Tolle insists that's where bliss is; it's the only place where things get done. The Now presents a moment2moment inner purpose of ours; that is, to access the Now right Now, which in essence, is always.

Don't let the present be a means to an end. That doesn't mean not having goals. Goals are essential for your "outer purpose." But make sure you FEEL and BE in your present. Own it completely. It relieves one of the ego attachment to the future, which doesn't exist.

All spiritual jive aside, these thoughts guide me today. Stay grounded. Don't think, "you'll be better when..." Perfection is now, which is what this journey is all about. Finding that space and feeling good there.