I would like a do-over on the last week. It was a bit rough. My husband worked all last weekend and I tried to pack as much into it as I could. I went for walks with friends, made pickles, put some meals in the freezer and I forgot that Monday was a statutory holiday. So Ian was home. I had a zoom call with a friend and went for a run. I kinda thought he would be in the garage all afternoon. He was not. We took one of the the old cars out for a drive and we out of the house for the rest of the day. No nap.
On Tuesday I had a weight training session at the rec centre, took the long walk home from there and we walked for supper. Wednesday rolled around and I woke up absolutely exhausted. Unfortunately I have a pottery class all afternoon on Wednesdays, that I walk to and from. I headed out and got a kilometere aways when I realized I forgot my phone AND that the path was blocked for construction and I'd either have to go the long way adding 45 minutes to my walk OR wait 30 minutes for them to finish pouring concrete. Either way I was not going to make my class.
It was the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back. I cried a bit, emailed the studio to let them know I wasn't going to make the class, and then the stories started. I felt like I was "letting myself off the hook" that if I really wanted to I could have made that class, which I suppose technically is true. I could have tried to get a taxi, I could have reached out to a friend or neighbour. I was mad that I hadn't done a better job at managing my energy. I told myself I was wasting money, the pottery class has s a cost. I compared myself to what unbrain injured people do all the time, and I felt broken and less than. I was mad that I hadn't rested more, and then afraid for what the next week would be like when I have all the same things (minus the Monday shenanigans) followed by thanskgiving. I was texting with my friend and my mom who were both like "GOOD! Stay home and rest, what a gift" but the sneaky old story of letting myself off the hook rather than pushing through was still there.
Now I am pretty good at recognizing an ego story when it shows up, and lots of them I still hear, but I don't feel the same reaction to them and my ego just has a little tantrum in the corner hoping I will pay attention to it. I've talked about this before and how we are not our stories and how our own ignorance leads us to suffering. And I am emberassed to actually even tell this story. That I thought I was past this. But I was a victim of my story and it knocked me down for a day or two.
Today I feel some space between the story and my reaction. It feels gentler. And I know what my intention will be for the upcoming week. But it is a reminder of who I really am. The first cause of suffering is avidya, not knowing who we are or our true nature. How I interpret this is often more in the buhdist tradtion. That we are all impermanent and made up the same stuff as the stars, trees, water. There is no suffering if you accept the present moment as the truth and what is happening now and not what will always be. Like an ability to zoom out and see the big picture. Meditation helps with that as you learn to quiet your mind and not identify with its narrative as the truth, or as who you really are. We are the observer of this, and we can learn to be non reactive to the story. Some stories I have a pretty good success rate with. Not this one. So I suppose it is noticing when it pops up for me next time, being grateful for an opportunity to practice and sitting back in the place of the observer rather than being consumed.
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