Strangely holey

Can you deny a hole so hard that it goes away? Or will it always be there, underneath the denial, until you find a way to fill it?

However hard I try to escape the black holes in my mind, the darkness, the emptiness, I only manage so far. It's not an escape in the sense of thinking I can get away from it; more a temporary escape from the feelings while waiting for the light to return. But there is more to it than the darkness of depression. That doesn't account for the emptiness and the hole inside. Only partially.

I keep thinking that if I fake being whole, act as if I were, fill my life with things that make me feel alive, I will be whole. "Fake it 'til you make it," right?
I keep thinking that if I can deny the hole, I won't fall into it, and perhaps not even notice it. But can I make it go away by ignoring it? By trying to fill it with other things - things that are meaningful and fill my life with light and joy - but that still aren't what is missing? The hole is after something that's gone missing, and it doesn't seem like I can fill it with just anything. Or anyone.

I have something in my life that is so important that no matter how bad I feel, I know it makes me feel alive, well, happy. For a time, at least. It's dance. As essential as breathing, but the effect doesn't stay for too long. Is it a life-force or a drug; is it part of my being, the very essence of my Self, something that I do because I am alive, or is it something that makes me feel alive by replacing or numbing something else? It can be like a drug in the sense of the dance high, the endorphin rush, the adrenaline rush, but in the best sense possible. Not to mention harmless. It is fire, it is passion, it is creativity - the complete opposites of darkness and depression.
But it's not enough to heal me, or my life.

When I immerse myself in dance, work, social life, TV, movies, and more than anything else the Twilight Saga, I almost forget about the emptiness, the loneliness, the hole in my heart. I can laugh, I can interact, I can be happy, I can seem normal, insofar as I ever am. I am good great at keeping up pretences, and even better because the happy face is true. Even when it's not the happy face, I have a polite mask that is almost free from cracks apart from for those who know what to look for, or those who get to catch a glimpse of what's behind the mask. The polite mask is the one I don't really know how to put aside, as it's grown to me. And people believe it. People in general like to believe the lie, the camouflage, the pretences; it is easier that way.

But when I'm alone again, when the movie's over, the final page of the book turned, when I get weary of endlessly flicking through the channels, when the dance is over and there is nothing and no-one to occupy my mind with, I am still holey. Sometimes, the pain is so strong that I have to remind myself to breathe and all I can do is hold myself together. I know it will pass. Outside of the clutter and distractions of life, I feel lost, invisible, empty and very lonely. And I fear that I have forgotten how to open my heart and life and let someone else in.

Because, of course that's what it's all about: Love. I hold so much love inside that I sometimes feel like I could burst into flames or explode in a myriad of tiny hearts. But there is nowhere to channel it; no-one to share it with. The give-and-take of shared love, of giving and receiving love, of being loved... that's missing in my life. And has been for a long, long time.

And it is a missing piece, a hole in my heart that is waiting to be filled, and that can't be filled with anything else. It will not make me whole, people and life are far more complicated than that, but it is a missing piece that doesn't go away just because I ignore it. At times I am more successful at denial, but not at the moment. For some reason, I keep coming back to it, which probably means that there is something to learn, to prepare, to change - to open myself for. Could this be what I've felt/seen - is it finally time soon?

At the moment, I feel probably as far from relationships and dating as I ever have, and romantically it is dark. The darkest night, the new moon. But it is in the darkest night that light is reborn. Or in the darkness of the eclipse, the split second before light returns. So maybe it's time to bring out the shades and open my heart again. In spite of my fears, I pray that I will keep the doors of my heart open.

Deep Listening Lesson 16: Listen as a caregiver

Another useful lesson in listening from Nithya Shanti. The text belongs to him and no copyright infringement is intended. Simply credit where credit due.

Listen as a caregiver

Listening and understanding is a form of caregiving. Every form of caregiving is an expression of love. Whether the caregiving occurs in the form of attending to babies and young children, the lonely, the elderly, the frail and the dying, or simply caring for the person who next walks in through the front door, each act of caring is an act of loving.

We know that caring does much to sustain everyday life. They hold the key to understanding how to live together well.

The gift of our complete and focused attention is one of the kindest gifts we can give one another. It confers on both giver and receiver a sense of meaning and value. We find that when we focus our attention on another, they become more real for us, the relationship becomes more meaningful, and we become naturally more compassionate.

The solidity of our sense of “I”, obscuring our heart of compassion, begins to dissolve and the “other” becomes our central focus. If we take a moment to think about it, among the more precious moments in our life are those times when we have felt most deeply understood by another human being.

With attention, we feel heard, seen and understood. We are nurtured in the gift of another’s attention. Giving the gift of our attention with the spirit of a caregiver, is to give the greatest gift of all – the gift of skilled listening.

Practise: The next time you are in dialogue with someone, focus on the other person with all your senses. How does the gift of your attention seem to affect the other person?

Review:

Lesson 1: Stop talking so much

Lesson 2: Don't interrupt unnecessarily

Lesson 3: Create an atmosphere of trust

Lesson 4: Listen for clues of disrespect

Lesson 5: Listen for common purpose

Lesson 6: Be slow to disagree argue or criticize

Lesson 7: Notice the tendency of conversation control

Lesson 8: Listen like the universe

Lesson 9: Become comfortable with silence

Lesson 10: Be aware of emotional reactivity

Lesson 11: Resist the urge to “should” on people

Lesson 12: Notice when your energy flaps

Lesson 13: Speak the truth to those in power

Lesson 14: Listen for feelings

Lesson 15: Don't let your story take over their story

Lesson 16: Listen as a caregiver

The girl who silenced the world

If you don’t know how to fix it, stop breaking it

You've got to be inspired by any child who dares do this, when so many adults keep quiet.

This video is from the UN Earth Summit in Brazil 1992. The speaker in this video is the then 12-year-old Canadian girl Severn Cullis-Suzuki.

I am only a child. Yet I know that if all the money spent on war was spent on ending poverty and finding environmental answers, what a wonderful place this would be. In school you teach us not to fight with others, to work things out, to respect others, to clean up our mess, not to hurt other creatures, to share, not be greedy. Then why do you go out and do the things you tell us not to do? You grownups say you love us, but I challenge you, please, to make your actions reflect your words.

1992. 16 years ago and every single word is just as valid today. Really, nothing has changed. Growing awareness over environmental issues, a much bigger climate change with far worse effects, and yet... nothing has changed. For all the nice words, politicians have done precious little apart from talking.

10 years after the Rio Earth Summit, Severn Cullis-Suzuki wrote a piece in Time Magazine, no longer a child but a young adult, who had learned that the world is a lot more complicated than it looks as a child. But complicated does not mean impossible.

Real environmental change depends on us. We can't wait for our leaders. We have to focus on what our own responsibilities are and how we can make the change happen.

...

[I]n the 10 years since Rio, I have learned that addressing our leaders is not enough. As Gandhi said many years ago, "We must become the change we want to see." I know change is possible, because I am changing, still figuring out what I think. I am still deciding how to live my life. The challenges are great, but if we accept individual responsibility and make sustainable choices, we will rise to the challenges, and we will become part of the positive tide of change.

In three weeks, the United Nations Climate Change Conference 2009 (COP15) starts in Copenhagen. It is already a disappointment. It is already clear that the summit cannot lead to a binding treaty. Instead, it can be at the most the first step to such a treaty. World leaders are still stalling.

It is still unclear whether President Obama will attend the summit, even though he will most likely be in Northern Europe for the Nobel Peace Price ceremony on the 10th of December. I cannot think of any reason for him not to attend the COP15.

Last week, November 10, he said to Reuters (from Telegraph.co.uk) : "If I am confident that all of the countries involved are bargaining in good faith and we are on the brink of a meaningful agreement and my presence in Copenhagen will make a difference in tipping us over edge then certainly that's something that I will do" Well, after the weekend's clear message that there can be no binding treaty from the COP15, this still remains to be seen.

I refuse to give up hope in our ability to change our ways and work for the environment instead of as against it, but I know this: We cannot wait for leaders and legislation. We cannot wait for politicians to tell us to change. We have to be the change. "We must become the change we want to see."

Stasis in darkness

There is no flow here
No way out
Like a pool of stagnant water
Blackened putrefaction
Being stirred
But there is no flow here
Stasis in darkness

Darkness closing in
Sqeezing tighter
A dark entrapment, cold embrace
Powerless and immobile
In a dark shell
There is no way out here
Mother of pearl

Or is the dark shell a chrysalis?
When a moonbeam penetrates the black water
Will I find the key to my power
Like the Phoenix rise from darkness
Spread my wings in freedom
And soar to the sky

©Lisa Isaksson, 2009

Reasons why I can't or reasons why I can?

Some men have thousands of reasons why they cannot do what they want to,
when all they need is one reason why they can.

~Martha Graham

This is so true! It always seems to be easier to find reasons to why I couldn't or shouldn't do something (in other words usually known as excuses), than reasons to why I can or shall. I wonder why? Where along the way did I learn to make excuses rather than to just do it? Who taught me that - my mother, my teachers, "society"?

And making excuses instead of doing is so accepted, pretty much the norm in society. We need to change that in order to progress. Because I believe that we call all agree on one thing: progress was not born from excuses.

I think "all" it takes is a shift of perception and a change of thought: What if the next time I think about doing something, I push the excuses and reasons why I can't to the side, and instead hold on to the reasons to why I can?