Day Three, Day Seven, Whatever

I don't know what number to assign to this day of the Do Nothing Challenge but it's not important. What I have learned is that taking the time to "become one with all that is" has helped me reconnect with the self that I was becoming before I found myself involved in a couple of situations that made that becoming more challenging. Those two situations are visiting an ex-lover and visiting my family.

Are there people in your life whom you have known so long, or so intimately, that they may have expectations about how you will behave based on past knowledge and experience? Does the "family dynamic" take over when you are together for holidays or other gatherings? I am the oldest of five children. Do you think my siblings see me in a particular way based on 50 years of experience, without regard for, or knowledge of, the work I have done to become the person I am today? It can be frustrating, but of course, it's not all their fault: I easily fall into those old patterns if I'm not constantly vigilant.

The same thing happened when I visited my friend Mary Helen in Houston a couple weeks ago. We dated for one year, around 1986-87. During the two weeks I spent at her house recently I felt the pull of our old relationship dynamic, which can be summed up as, "Just let me tell you how to run your life and we'll both be much happier." (Guess who had the control issues?)

So this challenge has come at an opportune time in my journey. I need a daily reminder that being Here and Now is the only place to be, and that the "I Am" that Eckhart talks about is not anyone's sister or mother or partner, but pure ego-less consciousness: One With All That Is. Peace.

Pretend You're a Dog

Okay, it's onward in the 37 Days Do Nothing Challenge and I'm finally off to a great start. Turns out I can't see the big magnolia from the sleeping side window of the motorhome, but the tree I can see is even better because it's a deciduous tree of some kind and it has that green on it. I had a grand time just looking at it, and watching the neighbor kiss her husband good-bye as he left in the car (so sweet), and enjoying the birds, and catching the fleeting shadow of a low-flying FedEx plane (imagining it was a chicken hawk and I was the chicken).

A couple of days ago I spent some quality Do Nothing time on the back deck with the dogs and cat. There is no better model for the Do Nothing life than a dog or cat. They don't hold a grudge because you stayed in the motorhome all day and didn't come in to play (poor Trixie cries and cries. Maybe I'll try bringing her out here), and they don't worry about whether or not you'll take them for a walk tomorrow. They live in the NOW, right where I want to be. Just another part of all that is.

Don't Just Do Something, Sit There

As you may know by now, I am a big fan of Patti Digh, her book, Life Is A Verb, and her blog, 37 Days. I admire her so much that when she suggests that we all do something, whatever it might be, I try to do it.

Her latest idea is that we should all pick one thing to do just for ourselves, and make a commitment to ourselves to do that thing every day for 37 days. I've been struggling to decide what that thing is, and it's already Day Four.

See, I already do just about everything for myself that I can possibly do. I wanted to live a simple, stress-free life, so I retired early and started living in a 19-foot motorhome. I wanted to see the country before I got too old to drive comfortably and that's what I'm doing. I wanted to work for peace in the world so that I could feel that I had contributed something important, which led to my discovery of Eckhart Tolle, who told me that the best way I can contribute to peace in the world is to stop thinking and align my consciousness with the collective consciousness of the universe. Aha! I have been trying to decide what to do when what I really wanted/needed to do was...are you ready?...absolutely nothing. That includes absolutely not thinking about what I want/need to do.

So I laid back on my comfy cushions and looked out the window, something I do several times a day already. Then I looked out the opposite window, and out the roof window. And while I was looking at the redbud and my sister's house and the trees, I stopped thinking about what I want to do for myself for 37 days and became one with all that is.

And then I realized that what I want to do for myself is just that, more often, and that I don't have to "meditate" in the traditional sense in order to do it. I just need to stop thinking and sit here. I don't even have to close my eyes; in fact, keeping them open, looking at all that is, seems to work better for me than closing them. I can keep the thoughts at bay more easily if I have something to look at (as long as I don't think about it, don't name it). I don't need a special mat, or special clothes, or a special posture, or special words. Oh heavenly relief.

So now I will set aside two specific times for not doing. In the morning, before I roll out of my bunk, I'll raise the curtain and look out at the fresh new morning and the big magnolia over my head. At night I'll go outside and look up at the stars, or the moon, or the clouds, and listen to the night sounds.

Hey, you know, if you do "not doing," too, we'll have world peace that much sooner. Just slip into the stream of consciousness, get on the frequency, ride the wave (to mix a triple metaphor). Oh my, what peace.

60@60? Sure, Why Not?

I just read my friend Patti Digh's January 1 post on 37 Days. It made me tired just to read it! She's made a list of 50 things she wants to "learn" this year, the year she turns 50, and suggests that we all do something similar: 20 things if you're 20 or 35 things if you're 35, whatever is appropriate for your age. She's calling it 50 at 50. All I have to say is, "Atta girl, Patti!"

As for me, I will turn 62 the day after Patti turns 50 and this is the year I intend to smile contentedly while I sit back and watch the "youngsters" do their thing. There is nothing else I need to learn.

Do I detect a raised eyebrow? A quiet, "Oh, really?" Okay, I'll admit that I have a long way to go before I can claim that I practice everything I've learned. And to be fair to Patti, her list includes many, many things that she has already learned but wants to master, same as me (#20: Learn to speak my truth).

Of course, I have a list, too, as I'm sure you do. It's a new year; how can you not have a list? Come on, admit it, you have a list. It's about the things you want to do differently in 2009, isn't it? There are the old standbys: lose weight, stop smoking, learn Spanish...Mine is all about living intentionally. It's a very short list:

1. Live every moment as if it were the end, not just the means.
2. Love everyone and show it by smiling when you see them.
3. Be grateful.

From 1984-1995, I worked in non-profit management and fundraising for three different national health organizations. I learned many important life lessons during that time, one of which has to do with acquisition and distribution of wealth. In Fundraising 101 I learned that there are two types of people: those who are striving to acquire as much as possible and those who have enough and are looking for ways to distribute what they have acquired. Of course, the best charitable donors are the ones in the distribution phase of their lives.

That's where I am: in the distribution phase. In 2008 I sold my 767-square-foot house and its contents. Fortunately, I bought the house in 2003 for $60,000 and was able to sell it for $95,000. Not bad in the year the bubble burst. I could have spent another $20,000 and made a bigger profit, but I undoubtedly would not have been able to sell it so quickly--before the Open House--if my asking price had been over $100,000; plus, my kitchen and bath would have been unusable for weeks.

In 2008 I had already been working part-time since 1995 (yes, the year I quit my high-stress fundraising and management job), so it wasn't a huge step from 20 hours a week to 0 hours a week. With the help of a small inheritance, I was able to retire a year early and live my dream of traveling the country in a small motorhome. I "distributed" the house proceeds to MasterCard, my daughter's wedding, and the guy who sold me the motorhome. I distributed my car and the entire contents of my house, including most of my clothes. It took three days to figure out what I could put into the RV and what I absolutely had to keep in storage (family photos, high school yearbooks(?), winter coat, tax returns).

About the only thing I have left to distribute is my love and my gratitude, so for 2009, under #3 above, I am making a list of 60 things for which I am grateful. I've bought Sarah Ban Breathnach's The Simple Abundance Journal of Gratitude (thanks, Oprah) and since she suggests that we write down five things every day, I should have my 60 things in 12 days. For January 1, Sarah includes the following quote from Melody Beattie: "Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today, and creates a vision for tomorrow."

Here are the five things I recorded yesterday:
1. I'm grateful that I am healthy.
2. I'm grateful that I had a good night's sleep.
3. I'm grateful to be staying in this place where I have free electricity and WiFi.
4. I'm grateful that I can leave any time I want to.
5. I'm grateful for cheeseburgers at Johnny Rocket's (I guess this is not the year I stop eating meat.)

Here's wishing you Peace and Gratitude in 2009.