One of the “stresses” in my life is when things don’t go my way. Yes, it is true: my preferred way of life is this: I like life to go along as I want it to go. That said, neither my mind nor my body “stress out” every time things go other than expected. In fact I have learned to often go with the flow. However, there are a few areas that I still seem to hold on to – tightly - as if holding on (til my knuckles turn white) might “will” them to go my way. Instead it seems as if the simple act of hanging on to them so tightly is what actually brings the stress.

Stress is something we all feel at times. There is good stress – the kind that tells you not to stick your hand in a beehive or to not drive your car (at least too long) on “empty.” The body sends alerts to keep us safe. Information comes from our minds to the rest of the body. Our body follows the commands of the mind just the way it was created to do. The body does not know the difference between a true emergency (one where there is an actual, physical emergency at hand) and one that is a “perceived” emergency. Our body simply reacts to our mind’s cues. Our mind tells our body to be afraid, and it obeys by tensing up, breaking out in a sweat, or running away. Or our mind tells our body to get excited about warm chocolate chip cookies as our mouth begins to water or getting on a roller coaster at the amusement park. (And for some, the latter would be a case of fear rather than excitement!) Then there is the “bad” stress, the kind that can send our minds and our bodies down a large metaphoric vortex (that seems to have a strange “sucking” sound …sort of like a vacuum…) and lands us in a place that is really, REALLY uncomfortable. Sometimes it is hard to get out of that place, because frankly, we aren’t sure what sent us there~ Regardless of what put us there, we can start to see how important it is to pay attention to what we are thinking.

Our mind’s cues come from our life experience: things we have learned from our family, culture, education, religion, or the streets. It includes the people we have known, situations that have happened to us, our friends, family, or what we heard or watched through media. It is everything we have experienced, whether we “remember” it or not: 24-7, 365 days a year for life.

We are aware of many things. For example we might like Thai cuisine over pizza, and if we think about it, we might see how this could impact the restaurant we frequent. We may realize that we tend to be on the liberal or conservative side of things, and that tendency informs us how we are apt to vote. Then there are the things we do not realize we know. Experiences that we either do not remember for whatever reason, or we do not consider terribly important to our daily life. If we are parents, perhaps we do not realize our way of parenting is directly impacted by how we were parented. Why might we be fond of going to the State Fair? Why get so angry when someone cuts us off in traffic? Why does the smell of a bonfire ignite certain emotions? We are not always aware of how these responses are informed by our “life experiences.” But we can be assured, that these thoughts DO impact our life.

Today, I challenge you to take note of a thought or a response you experience. Get in a place where you are able to be quiet and begin to wonder why it is that you responded as you did. Begin to practice attending to thoughts you experience or responses you note. See where it leads. You might find it eye-opening.

Vive l'difference

My cat caught a bird this morning. No matter how I bang on the window to distract him, send the dogs outside to blow his concentration, he still goes back to the feeder and stalks the birds. It matters not how high I place the feeders because his vertical jump seems to match the distance necessary to take out an unsuspecting chickadee. On one hand, I just hate that he does this. One of my favorite things about our property is watching the birds. And, I don’t like creation being injured or killed. On the other hand, this is how the cat was created. He may never change, not matter how hard I try to get him to stop taking out the birds. (Plus, he doesn’t seem to understand reason…) How does one hold the tension in that?

Sometimes it seems there simply isn’t a “right side” to take. In this case, there is definitely a side I want to take ~ one that I am more prone to take. Stop killing the birds! However, when I think of it, I can’t really expect him not to do so – it is part of the make-up of a cat. If I considered both sides, there is simply not a “right” or “wrong.” Rather, there is a preference involved. I prefer he not kill the birds. He prefers to kill them. If I look at each side of the situation, each has merit. Each has value to the holder.

I wonder how many times we are faced with situations in life could be considered “both/and” instead of “either/or.” How many times do both sides carry valid points? Maybe it is about a preference, one that differs from another. Sometimes it is about opinions or beliefs. What it things aren’t as black and white as we experience them? What it both sides of some issues hold merit? How would it change the way that we live if we considered the merit of each side of a situation instead of only looking at our own preference?

As far as me and my cat ~ there is a bit of a middle ground to our relationship. I continue to try hard to get him to stop killing the birds. If he gets obsessed with stalking I pull out the “cat bib” and put it around his neck which slows the stalking process. I send the dogs out in an attempt to distract him. His part seems to be to pull the cat bib off, watch for dogs and continue to stalk the birds. I feed him, and he sits on my lap. In this, we seem to get past our differences, and have a relationship. Neither of us is willing to bend on our “preference” however, it certainly does lowers anxiety. We kind of have a mutual understanding. The mutual understanding is this ~ I try to understand how nature works and try not to get bent out of shape about the parts of it I do not appreciate. He stalks the birds. Who knew that you could live in peace with someone so different from your self?

The dianthus rock

This weekend, I found myself sitting near the dianthus rock in the front yard. Really, it is just a huge rock that frames the massive amounts of colorful dianthus nearby. I sat there because it was easier to reach the weeds by being with the weeds, rather than towering over them. Sitting with the weeds actually gave me a view of under-the-plant canopy. I do not see this perspective much, as I tend to look at the plants, rather than getting down with them. When I am at plant level, I see the weeds, but I also see the toads, the new plants coming up, and blooms I hadn’t noticed before. Sitting at plant level also offers me surprises like the kitty jumping out from his napping place to pounce on the weed I am pulling and scaring the dickens out of me.

Being on the dianthus rock places me in a certain spot in our yard. If I look to the left, over the hostas and blooming daylilies, past the birdfeeder, through the hedge and the dust kicked up by a passing car, I see an outline of a window. On the other side of that window is the place my friend took her final breathe on Christmas morning. That was about 6 months ago. I miss her. I miss our talks and our times of not talking, simply sitting sharing silence. There was the laughter and tears shared over everything from our kids, politics, marriage, family, and that damn ALS, which invited both tears and laughter, sometimes at the same time. I saw a different perspective on politics when I was with my friend. I saw the health care issues differently, I heard a different voice about lobbying, and the responses of some of our politicians to the challenges of folks with ALS. I also was present for the stories of what it is like for a mom, a sister, and a wife, to live with a terminal illness. I miss the ritual of walking over, and spending sacred time with her.

Reminded of the blessing, helps me focus on how grand our times could be. Even the tears could be grand. Sitting with my friend also meant sitting with the impact of ALS on her life, and the lives of her family and friends. In a sense, sitting close to my friend, listening, experiencing, caring for each other offered both of us a plant-level view into each other’s lives. It takes time to stop, sit down and watch what is going on a different level. The things we might consider to be weeds will always be there, regardless of the canopy under which we look. However, I wonder if the weeds are just simply part of the landscape and with out them, the beauty of blooms might not seem quite so grand. Perhaps there is something about living with the things that we think are weeds in our lives that make us who we are and who we are becoming. Maybe it is not about worrying about the amount of weeds I think are in my life. Perhaps that is the wrong focus. Rather I might ask of my own self, how might I embrace that which feels like a weed, and learn from it rather than being so obsessed with getting rid of it. That sounds like a completely different type of conversation.