The joy!
Boet and me // 2024 and 1985
Same house, same love, same fun, same mom hand holding me up!
--
I was 7 years old the year my mom turned 40.
I think I remember cakes and hand-drawn posters, cartooned sketches all referencing now being "over the hill." Decorations bore an abundance of black, cloaked in, dripping in, jest.
What hill?
Forty seemed to be, nonetheless, cause for celebration. I could tell a milestone had been reached. The top of some peak. And then what?
I like the idea of cruising, foot on neither the gas nor the brakes. Seems a prize in itself, a privilege, to be able to coast, to exist without effort.
I began the last day of my 30s at 4am, waking up on the couch still buzzing from the vodka sodas of the previous evening. Lore was on tv, a new episode just beginning. It featured the story of Elizabeth Bathory, a widowed Hungarian noblewoman from the 16th century who allegedly killed over 600 virgins over a period of 20 years, from when she was aged 30 to 50. It was how she kept herself youthful and radiant, by bathing herself in the virgins' blood. By other accounts, these were merely accusations, a witch-hunt.
That's some hill.
A little later that morning, on the last day of my 30s, I reached out to the younger me in meditation. I was curious about what she wanted 40 to look like, if she even gave thought to such things.
Not so surprisingly, she didn't dream too much of marriage or children, nor money or work.
She wanted simply to feel everything fully, to allow every feeling to flow through her, to be able to surrender completely to each moment in front of her.
She wouldn't have had words for it then, and even now, words feel elusive, and when captured, remain inadequate. But I got the fiercest sense during that meditation that her fervent prayer was to be able to hold all there ever was to experience - heartache, happiness, everything in between and far beyond - to not just know, but to savor each facet of being human to the fullest breadth, depth, height.
And isn't that the point?
Last week, a client at the detox center where I teach yoga asked me how I find purpose.
"Shit," I said. "That's a hard question."
I went into how I feel grateful that the work I do already kinda takes care of the "finding purpose" problem that it seems some of us are always trying to solve. I suppose that's partly how I got into the work of being a therapist, an attempt at contributing greater meaning to this life, to absolve myself of the guilt of taking up space on this overcrowded and overburdened planet. It's a box checked on the superficial level.
Some levels deeper beneath the surface, on the level on which youngest, wisest, closest-to-soul-form me exists, it's clear that the purpose is to just be.
Though my last years of existing in a state of having multiple jobs at one time is at frenzied and baffling odds with my beliefs, I am not now and have never been quiet about the fact my truest Self believes we are not put on Earth to work, to do. But to be. Here, now.
This hill, this hill.
My trek up the hill has been learning through experience the first two of the four noble truths of Buddhism: that suffering is inevitable, and that suffering is born from our attachment to how we think it should all be, or not be.
Maybe the very top of the hill is the third noble truth, the lightbulb of awareness that suffering can cease.
And the cruise to the bottom is the fourth noble truth, that there is a way (well, 8 ways to be more precise*) to cease said suffering, and if there is work that I must live and breathe in this life, it's that.
Thirty-nine years and 21.5 hours after the moment I was born at 4:20pm on July 29, 1984, the Earth shook. Just a little bit. Not everyone felt it.
Every time the ground quakes, I hold my breath. I don't mean to, but I do. Rapt, I lie in breathless wait for the moment the Earth might swallow us, me, whole. I used to think I was nuts for the way I'd get a little excited hearing, sensing the low rumble that precedes a tremor. But now, when I detect that tinge of intoxication and delight at the prospect of meeting the biggest thing one can experience as a human on this plane - mortal annihilation - I'll know little Me got her wish, to meet the moment with wonder, to marvel at all that comes her way.
--
1 Mantra:
I am loved, I am loved, I am loved so that I may give and keep giving love back.
1 Journal Prompt:
What does 'here and now' mean to you? Consider ideas like the energy of the space around you, the flow of time, the presence of your thoughts and feelings, or the connection between your mind and body. How do you define and experience 'here and now' in this moment?"
1 Art Prompt:
Make art about what's here, now. Use colors, shapes, symbols, found objects, college images, etc., that represent how you experience this very moment. Direct your focus less on what comes out and more on the sensations, thoughts, or emotions you're aware of as you create.
1 Song - Infinite Universe by Beautiful Chorus (YouTube)
1 Book: - Be Here Now by Ram Dass
- As always, with love and thanks,
BROOKIE
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*The Noble Eightfold Path
1. Right View: Understanding the nature of reality and the Four Noble Truths.
2. Right Intention: Cultivating a mindset of good will, renunciation, and harmlessness.
3. Right Speech: Speaking truthfully, avoiding slander, gossip, and harmful words.
4. Right Action: Behaving ethically, avoiding actions that cause harm, such as killing, stealing, and engaging in sexual misconduct.
5. Right Livelihood: Earning a living in a way that does not cause harm to others and is ethically positive.
6. Right Effort: Making a persistent effort to improve oneself, prevent unwholesome states, and cultivate wholesome states.
7. Right Mindfulness: Maintaining awareness of the body, feelings, mind, and phenomena, and being present in each moment.
8. Right Concentration: Developing deep mental focus and meditative absorption.
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