*Smiles*

It feels like I'm falling into myself - you know how the first time
you do something, anything, it's difficult because you're learning how
and you're concerned about doing it right and what will other people
think and and and... but then it gets easier and soon driving a car
goes from learner-permit stress to taking your wheels for a spin just
for fun.

I feel like I'm taking myself out for spin, and I keep discovering
cool new controls and dials to play with. I've found the radio but not
the volume, I've found the baby in the back seat, the pile of
emergency gear, the inner peace.

What, your car doesn't come equipped with inner peace?

I guess I'm just lucky then :)

With this falling into myself, I'm coming to terms with the habit I
have of running away, especially when things are beginning to get
good, just when I'm starting to coast and don't have to work as hard
and I begin thinking, 'shouldn't (and I should pay attention right
here, this being a deadly should) I be doing something? Shouldn't I be
struggling? How could this possibly be this easy?" And I hop up and
run run run away from delving deeper than the surface. I got to the
surface in Corvallis, and ran away to Bend. Same thing in Bend - I
scratched the surface, got comfortable, and ran away to Yosemite. Got
comfy in Yose, and here I am in Australia, half way around the world,
still running away from myself. My latest plan was to do a vipassana
sit and then begin traveling again, because I felt I 'should' be out
'seeing' Australia.

I've been saying this whole time I'm not interested in 'seeing'
Australia, that it's the people I most want to know. Now that I'm in a
place where this is happening and I'm leaving?

Not anymore. I'm staying here, riding the wave, accepting that life
can be easy, it's not a struggle all the time. Or any of the time.

*Smiles*

Emotions Arising!

I've signed up for a Vipassana meditation course that starts May 13,
and I've got two other friends here who are going as well - they'll
help me get there, and being there will do the rest, I suppose. I've
been working through some good issues lately - grief and sorrow,
saying goodbye to Dan, letting go of my attachment to having a partner
and the clinginess that seems to follow. I've finally come to the
point of detached awareness that I'm able to feel these emotions
without identifying with them, and thus let them go. I'm really
grateful to be in this space - here at Chenrezig, surrounded by
like-minded folks who are often going through the same thing or
helping me to look at my own issues.

Life is becoming routine here, my relationships with people are past
the lovey-dovey stage and getting into the nitty-gritty of conflicts
and desires and projections of emotions onto others. I'm excited for
the next month, to see what it will bring, and also feel that it's
passing so fast. There's nothing to do but be aware, I suppose.

Two people have told me I've got nunhood in my future - that sent me
for a loop to start with, but I realize this could be very far down
the line. It's also what started me on the letting go of the idea of a
partner - every time I get close to a guy, I get attached, and then
clingy, which pushes him away and leaves me feeling rejected and not
good enough. It's amazing how I manage to manifest the same patterns!
And what's really amazing is that it's me making myself feel this way!
I'm the one generating these good, lovey-dovey feelings and the
feelings of rejection and aloneness. It's all me. Ultimately, I can
choose how I feel. That's another thing I'm working on right now.

The rain is still here, downpouring off and on, inviting the leeches
out and washing out the road yet again. The grounds crew is growing a
new set of shoveling muscles from digging out the draingage ditches
along the road. Oy.

House Happy Hour

I've been talking about the family vibe between vollies here at
Chenrezig, how when I walked in I felt at home, and how we work
together to think of what we can do for each other. In the beginning,
it's like a game, where you're always asking yourself, "what can I do
for someone else?" and then you wait to see if they notice, and you
see how you feel when they don't. Would you do it again?

Now that we're more comfortable with each other, unafraid of public
farting and sharing massages and personal fears, making fun of smelly
feet and talking about detoxing (seems like everyone's doing it!), the
energy has shifted. It takes a conscious effort to maintain a caring,
generous environment, it doesn't just happen. The things I'm learning
are that it takes many people and actions to maintain the sharing,
open energy that we've cultivated at the Family Center (the house us
vollies share). It takes seeing that the tea towels need washing, and
doing it, or mopping the floor, or noticing that someone is unusually
quiet and putting out that effort to provide a listening ear or even
just sharing a caring touch.

I don't know how I feel about all this maintenance work. It's so... constant!

Just kidding! This is something I'm really enjoying being aware of,
and contributing to - being a part of the massage circles, receiving
reiki and heart readings from our Spiritual Director who also happens
to be a gorgeous babe, being aware when someone doesn't feel good and
being in a space myself where I can offer a caring touch or the space
to listen. It's really cool - it's community! The thing is, this
community changes rapidly - we get new people every couple of weeks,
kind of in waves, and welcoming them into our close-knit group takes a
special effort because we're already so close. It's easy to stay in
the same circles, but so interesting to add new blood to the pool. I'm
sure the mozzies love it too :)

This last week Woody (Mancunian from Manchester, England, and the
person most would say keeps us together through his own openness and
vulnerability) devised a Happy Hour, loosely based on Plum Village's
Happiness Meetings, which we learned about from a very short-term
volley who'd spent three months there. Everyone gathers in a circle,
we ring a bell and do a short meditation on the last week - what
happened, if someone said something nice or helped us out, what we
appreciated about it - and then as each person has something to say,
you ring the bell and say it. Mainly it's about acknowledging the
kindness of others in a public setting. We did ours, using a
dish-drain as our bell (don't ask), and it felt a bit formal. After
the bell disappeared is when more people were able to share - saying
thank you, or I noticed that you're opening up.

I'm finding that my journey is lengthening itself. I decided to
surrender and changed my ticket to October, the same month I arrived
last year. It's a spacious feeling, not knowing what's next.