Day 9: What Mindfulness teaches me...

As a part of this challenge, and feeling challenged with it. I began to clean and clear out my computer. I found an essay I was asked to do for my 2nd mindfulness teacher training 3 years ago. 

It was just after my grandmother passed and I wasn't in the academia mindset. But I re-read what I wrote and thought it still fits like a glove. 

This is my response to the question Mark and Martin (our teachers) asked. 

What does it mean to teach with integrity and depth - for me

1st assignment Mindfulness TT. 

I had to go back and do this over. The past months have been filled with death and family issues that have taken me back to old stories patterns and anger. The past few days intensifying that and I felt like telling mindfulness to go fuck itself. Which is essential for me in how I can teach. 

I take it as a sign that as I sit a write this, the mist is so thick outside that I can’t see the house across the street. I feel a little clouded and this is my exploration of that. This is a step deeper into practice, teaching and how I define that for myself. 1500 words may fall short or turn out to be way too many... we will see.      

I am sorry for the delay.

Taking the seat or showing up these days is painful. It hurts. Rumination and self-pitty battle with wanting things to be different. Taking the seat is like forcing myself to re-live the grief from old stories and bliss seems to await in crappy TV shows and stuffing my face. And I have asked myself many times why would I want to put myself through that again. 

As it spins into a cycle, a dog chasing it’s own tale, what is my practice? In the light of this essay and training - is it mindfulness? No. And then again what is mindfulness. 

Even after years with a (mindfulness) practice I still don’t fully know what it is. It is a concept, an idea, a practice that is so many things that a one word label seems off. It creates resistance because I can’t grasp it, I don’t know it. 

So to get past being stuck on the word, what it has represented, the value or lack of, I have had to find a way of describing the meaning that feels aligned with me.

Showing up makes sense to me. Showing up means meeting my experience. Showing up means I am not trying to be the Dalai Lama, I am not aiming for enlightenment, it gives me breathing room and space for awareness. I don’t feel obliged to look like I have been touched by an angel or rebel against all of the above. The sense of showing up, opens me up allows me to be exactly as I am. I feel free’er. 

I have always been good at adapting language, dialects, styles. When setting down this route, that talent was very visible when it came to teaching. Following a teacher and finding my own style in that process didn’t come natural - to me. The more I taught, the more I was evaluated and the further I feel I have come from the integrity and depth of my own practice. Resistance builded and calling myself a teacher felt like a load of Bull Shit. I was an actor not a teacher. 

To begin to explore what teaching is I feel I should look at how I define a teacher - a master of mindfulness. The alter ego. The pruity of awareness and insight. Shoulder shrug - how the hell do you “live up to that”? A different approach is to look at what I feel a teacher is to me.

The last evening at Sharpham brought that forward. Not in your talks or meditations, but when we danced and you both joined. A teacher for me is someone who shows up, let’s go and moves. I am truly inspired by stories. By people who can let loose in a group. When I can feel their presence with me body and not my mind. That is what teaches me. 

If I could write out a wish list of what would to bring forward as a teacher it would be trust, letting go of wanting to fix, taking the seat, tapping into my own experience and letting go of what I want to be in that chair. 

And this is where I am stuck. I am in tears by my computer and I feel I am pushing myself too hard. My mind is with my grandmother and if I was to take any of my own advice that I would give to a student it would be to listen to that. Taking care of what is important and present is more important than trying to be good. 

I would allow myself to go home, crawl under the covers and feel through the sense of loss. Being held by my partner and drinking tea. I would allow myself to let go of shoulds and tasks and show up for what is here within me. I would move my body and connect to what body is in that moment. 

Because regardless of any agenda I as a teacher might have had, sensing what is here is essential. 

And yet I am not, I am trying to be a good student and get shit done. 

I am turning in these words with no clear direction no fine moral or punch-line. But for the past 2 days this is what depth and integrity meant to me.

Day 6: The 3's in my life..

3 girls. Lilli, Nola, Eivy, 7, 4, 1. My little pack. 
My wonders and my worries. My challenges and my smiles. The shitty diapers and the outfit picking hell each morning (the 1 year old included…)
The hugs and kisses. The missing teeth and gum in long tangly hair. The tears and victories. The pain of girl friendships and managing being a parent among other parents (not my fav). Colorful drawings and clay-blob-things.
And a heart that expands beyond what I thought was possible. 

With them came 3 births. These stories are powerful. 1 very challenging hospital birth, 1 home birth, 1 planned home birth gone hospital. Each had elements that needed working through and each brought a healthy beautiful child into this world. I want to talk more about birth stories in a later post. They stick with us. My mother in law gave birth to my man 38 years ago and that story still has its effect on her. Birth’s matter. Trauma of birth is real, even if the outcome is one of joy. 

The 3 pregnancies. I loved it. Being pregnant. Would do it again if I could stomach the thought of no sleep. But I really really REALLy can’t. No sleep has been torture beyond belief. I don’t know who I‘ve been the past 4 years. ZZZZZombie doesn’t cut it. 

3 dogs I’ve had in my life. One as a kid. Crazy Frida. I still have scars. And then our little gang of English bulldogs; Harvey and Norma. My man’s dream, not mine. I am learning to love them and the mess they make. Their smell not so much. 

And anything else I could think of came in larger numbers. I can’t find anymore 3’s. 

I have lived in 4 countries. Moved 20+ times in my life. Gone to 11 schools. Had 15+ different jobs. 1 love (Stig is reading). 4 siblings. 2 cars. 17 bikes. 1 of them stolen. 

But all good things come in 3’s and my list feels like proof of that. 

Prompt for January 7th: A tribute to…

Day 4: What I listen to...

I dig podcasts. I used to do my own show. Thinking that I may start a new show someday. When I jump in my sanctuary - MY CAR - podcasts educate me, teach me stuff and tell me stories from far away places. I’ll just rest here for a moment, because I do find myself volunteering to drive anywhere and everywhere these days. I love driving on my own and it is a place where I truly have a second to myself. And I’m ok with that.

Do you know the feeling? 

I’ve been a mom now for nearly 8 years, and in those years my concentration level has gone down the drain. Reading happens in bite size portions and books like to spread themselves over several years… so I really get value for money. Podcasts offer a great in between.

When I get in my car and flutter open my ears, my blood pressure drops and I feel relaxed. This can’t happen with the kids on a drive along. They booooh me until sweet music fills ‘er up. 

So what podcasts do I enjoy. HA. I was thinking maybe saving this for the guilty pleasure post, but I have enough material for that one too. So here it goes. 

My 3 go to podcasts. 

Woolful… A knitting podcast, but so much more. A lot of episodes about people who work with sheep. I’m crying laughing as I read this because it sounds so fucking strange. But it is such an inspiring podcast. Instant calm and inspired for how I want to live my everyday life. 

Love, sex, desire… The more I work with women and myself, the more I feel intrigued to learn more about my own sexuality and pleasure. Susana interviews a lot of cool people, although most of them are in Australia. Am searching for similar podcast with teachers closer to DK. I ask for a host that doesn’t get too kittenish, I know that would be a problem for me. Suggestions? 

Living Homegrown… When we left the city and moved out here this self sufficient business was a big motivation factor. And we are well on our way. We have learned a lot from our mistakes and this year pretty on top of the plan. Theresa brings on guests from around the World and also people who are farming etc. in the North, which is relevant to us. Any anxiety about the World, War or Trump fades away when I listen to this podcast. ;)  

So I know if any my friends are reading this they are screaming that I need help. I would love your inspiration. Which podcasts do you listen to? 

And prefer the ones that dive into nature, women’s health, homesteading, sex. 

Hit me. <3

Prompt for January 5th: What she says... 

Day 3: Dragons

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The original prompt was *Your little dragon is misbehaving*… Hmmm, well the tone between the adults in the house has been lingering in the dirty mind realm and I couldn’t get my mind past the tackiness... I downsized to dragons. 

What do I know about dragons - not much. Stig (my partner) taught me to watch and enjoy fantasy movies. But the love is only a few years deep. And to be honest I don't seem to have the stamina or concentration to really understand that category of films - or what the dragon is all about. 

I could only think of the dragon from 'The Never Ending Story' and remember how mesmerized I was by it's weird bubbly back. The next one was 'Puff the Magic Dragon' and how sad I felt when we were forced to sing it in school. 

Skipping past that. 
Where do you go with Dragons. The above felt too irrelevant. Contemplating the practice of exercising my creativity and embarking on the a post a day, this was exactly what I was wanting. Where do I go? 

A wise man said this: 

“I believe in everything until it’s disproved. So I believe in fairies, the myths, dragons. It all exists, even if it’s in your mind. Who’s to say that dreams and nightmares aren’t as real as the here and now?”
— John Lennon

I am a dreamer. My man is the realist. I am also the one with the most nightmares. A dreaded part of my wild imagination. My nightmares stole my attention, most of my life. Jailed in my mind. But "dragons" existed in the realest sense. And that has been the hardest to explain to people around me. 

My work has been allowing my dreams to live in fertile soil. 

The other thing dragon calls on is strength and courage. Own the shit. This creature shows up so timely. Own the story. Question what you call reality. Let your creativity be explored. 

Do you believe in Dragons? 

Prompt January 4th: What I listen to...