It is always now

16 December, 2013 - Monday

When I got back from Nebraska at the end of May, 2011, I couldn’t wrap my head around my emotion.  Between going back to Nebraska, seeing my parents had really sold the house and moved away to .. somewhere I don’t know where, exactly.. visiting certain places that really fucked my head up, and then coming home to my son graduating and lashing his tongue so harshly at everyone around him for the next year, it took a lot out of me.  I harnessed the stability and strength of my friends around me as much as I possibly could.  But it took me more than a year to get my head back in the game.

One afternoon in June of 2012, I came across the 2012 Global Atheist Convention posts on YouTube.  It was fantastic.  Great speakers, great talks, great panels. A lot of talk about Christopher Hitchens – his life, his outspokenness, his love of books, of people, of words.  A lot of people spoke about him.. Dawkins, Krauss among others.

And then Sam Harris came to speak.  And blew my mind.  And put it back together again in a way it hadn’t been in years.  He said he wanted to speak about death.  And he did.  He really did.  But, what he really talked about was life, and living, and the moment we have this very second.

I know I watched that video at least 5 times in a row.  I know that his words brought a solace to me that I had not felt before.  I know it changed me.  It brought a wave of calm over me that I needed.  And lit a bit of a fire under me at the same time.

the past is a memory
it’s a thought
arising in the present
the future is merely anticipated, it is another thought
arising now
what we truly have
is this moment
and this
and this

And this.

Thank you, Mr. Harris.

I’m not sure who cut this version of the video, but it’s my favorite.

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JCOCtO9lusU

 

it is always now
i actually want to talk
today about death
now most of us do our best to not to think about death
but there’s always part of our minds that knows
this can’t go on forever
part of us always knows
that we’re just a doctor’s visit away or a phone call away from being starkly
reminded
with the fact of our own mortality
or of those closest to us
now i’m sure many of you in this room have experienced this in some form
you must know how uncanny it is
to suddenly
be thrown out of the normal course of your life
and just be given the full time job of not dying
or caring for someone who is
but the one thing people tend to realize
at moments like this is that they wasted a lot of time
when life was normal
and it’s not just what they, it’s not just what they did with their time, it’s not just
that they
spent too much time working or compulsively checking email
it’s that they cared about the wrong things
they regret what they cared about
their attention was bound up in petty concerns
year after year
when life was normal
and this is a paradox of course because
we all know
this epiphany is coming
i mean, don’t you know this is coming?
don’t you know there’s going to come a day
when you’ll be sick or someone close to you will die
and you’ll look back
at the kinds of things that captured your attention
and you’ll think, “what, what was I doing?”
you know this, and yet if you’re like most people,
you’ll spend most of your time in life
tacitly presuming you’ll live forever
it’s like watching a bad movie for the fourth time
or bickering with your spouse
I mean this, these things only makes sense
in light of eternity
there better be a heaven if we’re gonna waste our time like that
there are ways to
really live in the present moment
what what’s the alternative?
it is always now
however much you feel you may need to plan for the future
to anticipate it, to mitigate the risks,
the reality of your life is now
this may sound trite
but it’s the truth
it’s not quite true as a matter of physics, in fact there is no now
that encompasses the entire universe you can’t talk about an event
being simultaneously
occurring here and one
at the same moment occurring in Andromeda
the truth is, now is not even well-defined as a matter of neurology because
we know that inputs to the brain
come at different moments and that consciousness is built upon layers
of inputs whose timing to have to be different
are conscious awareness of the present moment is
in some relevant sense already a memory
but as a matter of conscious experience
the reality of your life
is always now
and i think this is a liberating truth about the nature of the human mind in
fact i think there’s probably nothing more important to understand
about your mind than that
if you want to be happy
the past is a memory
it’s a thought
arising in the present
the future is merely anticipated, it is another thought
arising now
what we truly have
is this moment
and this
and this
and we spend most of our lives forgetting this truth
repudiating it, fleeing it, overlooking it,
and the horror
is that we succeed
we we’ve managed to
never really connect with the present moment and find fulfillment there because we
are we are
continually hoping to become happy in the future
and the future never arrives
even when we think we’re in the present moment we’re, we’re in very
subtle ways, always looking over its shoulder
anticipating what’s coming next
we’re always solving a problem
and it’s possible to simply drop your problem
if only for a moment
and enjoy whatever is true of your life in the present
this is not a matter of new information
or more information, it requires a change in attitude
it requires a change in the attentiveness you pay
to your experience in the present moment

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True destiny…

14 December, 2012 - Friday

“Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone. We find it with another.”

Estonia

Moving on up

4 December, 2012 - Tuesday

I moved.

Again.

July 2006, May 2007, May 2009, and now December 2012.

I’ve graduated from 420 square feet in 2006 to 500 in 2007 to 550 in 2009 to 1100 in 2012.  I am finally feeling like I’ve got my feet under me and, even if I don’t know what direction I will take, I’m on even ground now.  I fully expect there to be ups and downs, but life is so much better than it was in 2006 or even 2009, or for that matter, 2011.

Apartment in 2006 – You can see it all – and how small it was.  In this picture, I’m standing at the front door.  The wall with bookcases to the left is one side of the apartment.  The wall with the desk is the other side of the apartment.  Weirdly, I have almost the same furniture I did then, with a few additional pieces collected since.  Oh, and you aren’t seeing things — the floor and ceiling were.. warped.

Apartment 2007-2009

Apartment 2007-2009 – The “futon” I slept on filled the room.  The living room was smaller than this room.

Apartment 3 – 2009 to 2012. I was so happy to have a living room that could actually allow for *some* company. Of course, 3 people in one room filled the room to capacity..hah. Living in this apartment, I met Christine, Robert and Gina (pictured here — Gina is hiding, apparently), as well as Laurie and Jim. All my BFF’s.

Apartment 3 – 2009 to 2012.  Painting here has always been a challenge. I had to come up with some creative solutions, but I made it work and enjoyed it so much.

Apartment 3 – 2009 to 2012. In 2012, I bought a King Sized bed — and it quite literally filled my bedroom. I didn’t care — after 6 years of sleeping on a twin, then a futon, then a child sized full sized bed, I was more than ready for the king – best sleep I’ve had in years.

Apartment 3 – 2009 to 2012. – Two boys and their toys filled my living room

Living in this “Apartment 3” has had incredible benefits for me.  First and foremost, I think I finally physically healed.  And secondly, I think I mentally healed.  It has been an ordeal — divorce, loss of friends due to the divorce, loss of family due to their own insane reasons, and the crazy job market.  But since moving here in 2009, I found new friends who have become incredibly important in my life.  I’ve connected with some old friends.  I’ve got a decent job, a great son, a crazy cat, a man who adores me , and two best friends who would do anything for me, and I them.

Life has been good, and can only get better.

Drum roll….

And now…

Apartment 4 – 2012… Huge huge living room!!!!

Apt 4 – What?? Yes — it’s a dining room!! Wooties

Apt 4 – Kitchen – day of moving in.  Lookie — there is space for painting!!

Apt 4 – Kitchen – day of moving in – stove is sitting in the middle of the room (it stayed there for a couple of days), as the counter top is 1/8’th inch too narrow!!  But there is space on the left there for all my paining stuff!!!

Apt 4 – A place for paints. Finally.

I have breathing room.

I have painting room.

I have room to have more than 3 extra people in the apartment and not feel overwhelmed.

I have an entire space to live in, and not around.  I seriously am looking forward to spending quite a few years here.  I have no plans, other than to keep living this life the best I can, with people around me that I care about.

It really has become a good life.

 

This Is My Body

25 July, 2012 - Wednesday

 
httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z2ME8sR-bnY
 

If you are into Facebook, you can “like” their page here: http://www.Facebook.com/ThisIsMyBody

Life remains the same..

5 July, 2012 - Thursday

Life remains the same until the pain of something remaining
the same becomes greater than the pain of change.

Tripping, all the way home

11 June, 2012 - Monday

Scottsbluff, NE - May 2012

I took a “Get the fuck over your past” trip recently — I went home – or, at least, my hometown – Scottsbluff, Nebraska,  for the first time in years.   It had grown a bit, but really had not changed much at all.  The edges were even rougher than I recall, and at the end of the two days there, I was really ready to be gone.  There were too many memories — some good, many not and as I drove out of Scottsbluff, then out of Nebraska and on towards Colorado, I was a mixture of being elated, sad and relieved.

I’m not sure when (or if), I will ever be back to the mid-West.  The trip to Nebraska really was putting to bed a huge piece of my past, and letting go.  I visited all the places I grew up around, reminisced, took a crazy amount of pictures, and at the end of two days there, left feeling that a huge weight had been lifted from me, and that I could say a real goodbye to the girl I was, to the place that defined who I became, and to embrace who I have become, and who I have yet to discover.

My “Prize” for dealing with Scottsbluff, was to rent a cottage by the river in Estes Park, Colorado.  And we did.  And it was wonderful.  It was so beautiful I didn’t want to leave.  The sound of the river was so loud you could hardly hear anything but the wind and the birds that swooped in and around us all day long.  Traffic, sounds of cars, sounds of other people — all drowned out by the water roaring over the rock laden river. The interior of the cottage was charming, warm, if somewhat utilitarian — but exactly what was needed by my emotionally overwhelmed brain.

Cottage overlooking the Big Thompson River, Estes Park, CO

The beauty of the Rockies is amazing.  If I could have overcome my intense hatred and fear of high mountain roads without guard rails it would have been even better.   I realize that driving in the Alps will never happen – without a big dose of Valium ;)

Estes Park, CO - May 26-29, 2012

Estes Park, CO - May 26-29, 2012

We did the usual — horseback riding trail ride with a steak dinner at the end — which was quite lovely.  My horse, Agnes, was a real trooper — our ride was at the end of what was probably a very long day for her, with the hoards of people visiting Estes Park and the Rocky Mountain National Park over the Memorial Day weekend.  The picture above was taken while sitting atop Agnes.  What an incredible view.

As much good as this entire trip did for my mental health, I will admit that coming “home” (and yes, I’ve finally realized that New York IS my home – I’m from Nebraska, but I really am a New Yorker, tyvfm), was even better.  My terror at naked (no guard rails) mountain roads was completely overcome when I drove my car onto the Grand Central Parkway at 70mph, right next to Jersey Walls, guard rails, and the moronic drivers I actually understand.

I guess I really didn’t realize until was back in New York that this trip was not about Scottsbluff, not about the beauty of Colorado, not about dealing with the issues of my past.  This entire trip was about coming home — coming home to find me.  Home.  Where I can be as odd, eccentric, flaky, artistic, logical, poetic, musical, a mental mess, a strong woman, and an introvert all at the same time and not be looked at as fucking weird.  I can be myself in a way that I never could in my hometown, and never let myself be until the last few years.  Where my friends love me in spite of my weirdness, and the people who really know me accept me, for me.

Home really is where you make it, and not always where you thought it would be.

 

Friends…

15 November, 2011 - Tuesday

Friends are the real family you get to choose.

Family, in my opinion, are the friends you treasure, and who, in turn, treasure you.  In my life the friends I have are my family.  I honestly don’t know what I would do without them.

“When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand.  The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares.”  ~Henri Nouwen