Risque mental movies, vulnerability, conscience, absolute self-honesty

It's more difficult to do this once a month, than my other weekly blog. Why? Because it's once a month. It's not a habit. Habits are super powerful. I've finally gotten some competency at installing (and un-installing) them, and it's been incredibly helpful in my life. Having a really good habit is like having a super power.

I find myself repeatedly struggling with... it's hard to describe it. There is a way of being, where I am absolutely scrupulous about listening to and following my inner voice of rightness. Doing so feels incredible and results in the most astounding miracles happening in my life. Joy, success, everything nice. What's the catch? Why isn't everyone doing it all the time? Why aren't at least I doing it all the time?

1) I forget. I just forget. I get distracted, busy, tired, and I don't think about it for a while, and then the memory of how awesome it is fades, and even how exactly to get back into that listening flow state, gets a bit fuzzy.

2) It requires a kind of honesty, and vulnerability that feels a bit scary. I think I'd describe it as having your mom in the room. Or rather, inviting your mom into the room, permanently. It is this watchful presence, that you can't make excuses with. You don't feel comfortable procrastinating work to play video games, if your mom is right there, standing in the same room. To say nothing of watching stuff that's sexually risque.  Being in this flow is like voluntarily submitting to that, 24-7. Which sounds awful, but in practice and experience, life is so, so much richer, it is totally worth it. Remember, it's not your mom's opinions you're in the room with, it's your own.

There used to be a few more big issues with this state, the main one being that there was a lot of interference with my intuition. There was a lot of voices of other people, parents, society, etc., drowning out my own personal voice of rightness, and when I listened to those voices, it wasn't a joyful experience at all, it was maybe a few moments of joy, when I first started listening to those voices, and they temporarily quieted down, but then I'd slip up and they'd redouble themselves, yelling at me for being wrong twice as loud.

When it is my own voice, there is the understanding that all I have to do is my best, and that is always good enough. As well as often the right thing to do turns out to be giving myself some rest and/or love.

Perhaps the third issue is

3) it requires a sensitivity, like a finely tuned antenna, and that openness means that more grating signals are also heard, felt, loud and clear. If this isn't handled skillfully, it becomes emotionally exhausting.
(Skillfully seems to mean, an open receptiveness that neutrally accepts and acknowledges all feelings, allowing them to dissolve in nonjudgmental awareness. (which ends up feeling compassionate and loving, rather than just neutral.)

OK, now tomorrow I've got another post to do, since tomorrow is the start of another month 😅

Peace and safe travels along life's way
see you next time,
-me

This is how to welcome all your feelings, pleasant or unpleasant
(and how they respond to such a welcome)

A long time since the last post. First year teaching: fear, anxiety, spiritual weightlifting.

the last post was...August? I think? Which shows you about when I became incredibly busy. First year as a teacher. It's exhausting. It's also scary. Mainly, every weekend, Sunday afternoon, and today, the last day of winter break, there is fear and my stomach feels nauseous. I'm not ready. Have you ever had those dreams where you're giving a presentation and then you realize you're in your underwear? I haven't, but I suspect it's a similar feeling. Feeling naked, feeling unprepared. I wish I had boundless energy and focus and courage and faith, so I could properly handle this job. All I have is patience and love and compassion and caring.

It's a profoundly powerful spiritual experience, if you let it be, just as a romantic relationship can be: these situations force you into uncomfortable places, they force you to look at parts of yourself that are not fully formed, that are wounded, that you try to look away from if you can. But you are forced to look and more than look, to act. It is good, but it is not comfortable. It will get better, I've been assured.

The new year. Endings and beginnings. I feel cold and alone. May I have the strength to do what needs to be done regardless, may I have the faith to trust that God is with me even when I feel this way, that though the path is sometimes painful it is leading me on to my ultimate goal.

May I have the trust and lion-hearted-ness to find joy and laughter no matter the situation.

All life's a game, a play, and we but actors on the stage. Play your part, play it well, but don't get so caught up in it that you are made truly miserable by the drama. An actor enjoys the play, even if their part is a sad one, because they know deep down that it is not who and what they truly are.

This is the meaning of "be in the world, but don't let the world be in you" or "be in the world but not of it." Like a boat used to cross the river, the boat is in the river, but you don't want the river getting into the boat. This is the true meaning of spiritual detachment, and why it is said to lead to great and unshakable peace.