What You Want, You Already Have

I hit a pretty low spot this weekend, both personally (my relationship with myself and the universe) and in my relationship with the man I'm seeing ("boyfriend" sounds so sixth-grade). That darkness had me seeking out ways to retreat, to find wholeness again, and I came across the website of a local monastery. I'm not Christian, never mind Catholic, but feeling lost, this way of life appealed to me, and I woke up this morning and decided to spend some time before breakfast with a Buddhist book I've been meaning to read, and some time for contemplation and meditation.

I was not disappointed.

I feel better than I have in a long time, and realized a few important things that I'd forgotten.

What I wanted, I had. I just couldn't see it because I was looking so hard. In my relentless pursuit of more "together" time, to try to feel more connected, I prevented the very thing I was seeking from happening. He, too, had needed some personal space, but had been trying to give me what I wanted, and neglected himself. So neither of us had anything to give the other, but we kept on doggedly trying. My relationship with a lesser man would have ended this weekend. I'm glad this one didn't.

I need daily meditations. Even though I'm not religious, a spiritual discipline (taking time to reflect and learn from various philosophical and religious teachings) has always made me feel grounded and centered. It gives me a reason to be healthy, to work, to live. When I ignore this part of my life for too long, I start to feel lost in the universe. Now I feel found again.

So I think I'll adopt "morning prayers" (prayer, meditation, reading, etc) as part of my daily routine. I feel a peace and clarity today that I know will only grow over time.

I Finally Decided to Cancel Cable

I'd been thinking about doing it for a while, worried that I'd miss it, that maybe I should keep it for social reasons. But I can get rabbit ears for if I just want to zone-out with TV for a while, and most of the shows I'd want to watch are available either online, or on DVD. So what, exactly, was I paying for?

I'm not sure.

Which is probably why it felt so good to cancel it.

I'll now pay only $41/month to the cable company, for my internet service. Maybe I'll use the savings to go on a vacation, which is a much better use of money than to fill a box that's rarely on with shows I mostly don't want to watch.

What I Learned Today from World of Warcraft

Maybe it should be called World of Warcrack, it's so addictive. But there are things to be learned from the game, I'm sure.

I've been thinking about what it is that makes the game so addictive, and how those things can be created or applied to "Real Life" to help me get more done, and be happier doing it. At first I thought it was the quest-reward mechanic, where you have specific goals and get immediate rewards. But that, I discovered, is only a small part of what makes the game so enticing.

It's meditative, in a weird kind of way. You go out, you do your thing that you've done a million times, to kill a bigger and tougher enemy. It really doesn't require much thought - just enough decision-making to keep it from being boring.

... and now for what appears to be unrelated ....

I've started washing the dishes by hand, rather than using the dishwasher. I'd let them pile up a bit, and had a full sink-full this today. I was listening to music that to me, goes well with the "hearth and home" theme of washing dishes or other housework. And something hit me.

Washing dishes felt like questing.

What?!?!

Yep. It had the same not-too-difficult and not-too-boring flow as doing a "green" (easy-ish) World of Warcraft quest! After some thought, I realized it felt that way because 1) I was fully engaged in what I was doing, and 2) I had attributed emotional meaning to the task (warm homey feelings).

I wonder if part of the appeal of games like WoW is that they are a needed respite from information overload and decision making. Or if maybe I'm part of a generation that somehow didn't learn to be fully engaged and emotionally connected to "work." (Or if any generation before has, either?)

Surely life can become as addictive and appealing as a rather repetitive game.

Listen to Yourself

There's a quiet voice that tells you exactly what, at any given moment, you need to do to be happy and satisfied.

The only hard part is learning to listen to it.

Making a Living Making Nothing

It's an interesting feature of this digital age - many of us, myself included, make our livings making nothing substantial, things that exist only in 0's and 1's.

I wonder sometimes if I'd be happier if I made things: actual, real, things-you-can-touch things. I know how to sew. I make a better loaf of bread than you can buy in any but the most expensive of bakeries. I sometimes get away from the computer and do actual artwork on actual canvas, but that's the exception, not the norm.

I fantasize about growing my own food on this little suburban lot that barely holds my house and the requisite grassy front lawn. About living by, at least in part, the labor of my hands, not just of my mind. I dug a garden last spring, and a friend of mine said, "Wow, Becky, you mean you actually did actual work?!"

I think a little more of that sort of work might be good for me.

Slow Mornings

Alarm buzzing. Snooze. Groan. Snooze some more. Quick shower, iron the clothes, juggle kids if you have them. Scarf down your cold breakfast, or skip it altogether. Pay $4 for a grande latte or trans-fat-death-bomb biscuit from a drive-through on your way to work.

No wonder we don't want to wake up in the morning!

My mornings used to be something like that. I'd get up at the latest possible moment that would allow me to get to work on time. Now they're something like this:

Wake up naturally, just before sunrise. Get myself presentable at a relaxed pace. Hear the comforting burble and enticing aroma from my programmed coffee maker. Take the dog outside, and take a moment to breathe the fresh morning air, feel the world waking up. Enjoy the contrast between my hot coffee and the cool morning air. Make a real breakfast, then write this over my second cup of coffee, before I start my work day.

Second Cup is a place for my morning musings and thoughts on a slower, simpler life. A life where time is allowed for savoring the small things. For suburban simplicity, and bowing out of the rat race without bowing out of life.

Enjoy. Make today a great day.