Meditation on Kindness

When you are in a crowd, look around at all the different people. Notice their clothes, faces, hair, sizes. Look at their gestures and movements, noticing if they are loose, stiff or free. Just take it in, without judgment, as if you were looking at a garden of people. Then see them all as energy fields, the same as you. Just energy. As you continue watching, think to yourself, “Every person here has had to live every day of their lives, just like me. They have had to get up every day, decide what to wear, face loss, success, hurt, shame, just like me. Everyone fell down while learning to walk, everyone probably felt anxious the first time they kissed, just like me. Each person has a story to tell. Some of the chapters are heroic. Some of them are about loss, some about fear, some about achievement or joy, just like my story”. Then continue to think of them as energy, conceived as an egg and sperm, just like you.

We are a moment in each person’s story, make it a story that doesn’t leave a scar.

Excerpt from "If the Buddha Dated" 

A little soul retrieval in the darnedest places...

I thought I was so ready for the weekend, until it got here. I am thankful for the mornings when I can “sleep in” (I woke up at 7 AM, couldn’t go back to sleep for the life of me!) But then what do I do with the rest of Saturday and Sunday? In the short time that I have been here, I find myself asking that question a lot. What to do, where to go, with whom. The truth is, the idea of doing something alone is lackluster. So I find myself doing mundane things when I'd rather be out exploring. Clean apartment, walk Pickles, eat lunch, rinse and repeat.  The funk needs to end soon.

And I do realize it’s all up to me. What it's going to take to give me an inspirational jolt, I haven't yet discovered.

I spent three days in Oklahoma this past week for a business trip. Having grown up in Texas, I find this kind of “research” to be kind of tedious. Nothing in the way of this lifestyle and mindset has changed much since I wore cowboy boots in the 8^th grade (Yes, I admit it). Although I will say, denim has changed a bit.

These people are good folks. They love their family, they love Jesus, their horses and livestock, they love honesty, integrity, shaking hands, simplicity, home. When I go to these events and wear the required uniform (i.e. Jeans, Boots) I reconnect with that 14-year-old girl I once was, wearing my red Justin boots, Rockies and feeding 'Big Red', the unbroken horse that kicked me, knocked me down, left a bruise on my right butt cheek and my ego hurt for weeks. The familiarity of this life is something that eludes me but at the same time I feel a sense of comfort in it all. Perhaps this is a part of my life that I need to remember. It was an innocent time for me, one of very simple and humble times and a time where the world was a big white canvas just waiting for me to paint whatever future I wanted.  In many ways, a lot of the people I meet remind me how far I have come in my life. The road behind me is very long and foggy.  This experience was a reminder that I have done pretty good thus far and I am comforted. So while I am doing a good service to the company, I am also taking notes of my own personal journey.

Now What?

I have been here in Denver for three months, so now what? That is the question I seem to ask a lot. There is a lot of quiet time to reflect on the last whirlwind year of my life. I am OK with the quiet time, I guess.

Colorado is beautiful.  I sometimes can't believe I live here.  I met my family in Durango for the 4th of July weekend. It was very nice to get away, to drive somewhere. I loved the mountains, Mesa Verde, Durango's historic downtown. I just loved being with everyone again, even in all of their chaos. I realized on the way back to Denver that I am on what seems like two separate journeys.  One of self and the other with matters of the heart and companionship.  It's amazing what a long road trip can do for your soul.

My trip back to Denver began at 4 PM and made it's way well into the night. I didn't arrive home until 11 PM. The road was silent, no radio, no cell phone. Just me and Pickles. I had a lot of time to think. And in some ways, it was a deeper conversation with myself than I usually have. Many things were said and realized in all of that silence.

“Without a pot to piss in”

During the 1500s, people did not have indoor plumbing. It was common to use a chamber pot as an indoor toilet. The chamber pot could then be dumped out a window into the street gutter below. However, it’s been said that poor families would urinate in a pot and at the end of the day this urine would be sold at the local tannery to tan animal hides. Some families were so poor that they "didn't have a pot to piss in". Thus, the term.

Tonight while I was winding down from my weekend and reflecting, I realized I finally have everything I need, and even things I want. There was a time where I felt ridiculously poor while I lived a bohemian life and held onto not much more than hope, a few dreams and possibility. I could indeed say that I didn't have "a pot to piss in". But I realized tonight as I was enjoying my apartment, the stress of trying to find the basic, daily needs are gone.  My apartment is coming together bit by bit and my life feels as though it is, too. I can’t help but remember the harder times when I struggled so much for just simple things; and I don’t want to find myself taking any of it for granted now. If I can help it, I don’t ever want to go through that kind of self-deprivation for any lengthy period of time, or for any amount of wishful thinking. I have learned so much how impactful our descisions can be and how important it is to follow our heart and let go all fears which prevent us from living our fullest life. Sometimes, you just have to change your scenery in order to change your course.

Three Weeks Amongst Mountains

It's hard to believe I am going on my fourth week here in Denver. I finally took that short trip to Boulder. I forgot my camera like an idiot but most of the trip was to just see the mountains up close and do some scouting of this area. I discovered that I loved the little city and will definitely be back often. It is a quaint place, nestled right at the foothills of the mountains; It was very charming and not as overwhelming as downtown Denver. A lot less people, cars and more walkable. It made me get back on my Vespa kick. I feel like I am finally settling into this place. Well, almost.

My place is still naked as a window. But still, I'd take all that nothing over nothing at all.