Monday, January 18, 2010

your dreams are always coming true.

It's that time of the month. Soul Matters time, that is. I have my meeting with my group tomorrow, and, of course, I've left most of my reflection and work for the last minute. I meant to look at it this weekend, but I ended up blogging about other things. So, back to Possibility. Let's see what I can work out.

First of all, the spiritual practice that they wanted us to do was, in my opinion, dumb. We were supposed to read a poem by Robert Bly every day. And it was a dumb poem, saying that instead of expecting the ordinary, we should imagine that a moose will come out of a pond carrying your unborn child in his antlers.

???

My point exactly. So we were supposed to read it every day for two weeks and see what sorts of things we would start to think were possible. It's meant to get us out of our routines. Personally, I don't think this would help my spirit, so I didn't do it.

However, if I were to explore this concept without the dumb poem, I think I would start to understand that a lot of the things I'm most proud of doing seemed like really crazy ideas at the beginning. Some of the wildest things I've done have been the most worthwhile. And while I'm looking for a job and trying to shape what my life in Rochester with Adam will look like, it's important to think big, not small. There, lesson learned.

The next part is the challenge. I need to brainstorm all the things I think are impossible. I've already listed these things, and I'll say now that I did NOT succeed in creating a home yoga routine, nor did I fast or do anything else, really. Not even close. I did yoga once. And I attempted to fast once. So, there are some improvements I can make. And I have decided that those things are big leaps, and I need small steps. That means meditating regularly, and mindful eating. The point is, I've figured out what my long term goals are, and now I know what small steps will lead me in that direction.

The other little trick I've learned is modifying my dreams. At this point, I think it's pretty unlikely that I'll go back to the woods to work as a trail laborer. And frankly, I haven't been convinced that I do actually want to. But...I am planning on going back this summer to visit, and hopefully see people from my crew. That would pretty much satisfy that dream of mine, but it fits into the reality of other choices I'm making in my life. I probably don't want to spend 6 months in the woods without Adam and without a phone to call him. So I'll go for a week or two, sleep under the stars, hike some trails, and that'll be that.

I don't mean to say that I should compromise my dreams for things that seem more reasonable. I just mean that I will never accomplish what I want if I will only accept one hypothetical result. Part of realizing your dreams is understanding that your dreams are coming true all the time. Even if they don't arrive in the exact package you expected. And that is the heart of possibility. The ability to see everything as an opportunity, every new experience a gift and every new acquaintance as the potential for something grand.

Living boldly means that we embrace all the little moments that will lead to someplace fabulous. Rejoicing in our small accomplishments acknowledges that every step brings us closer to our goals.

I used to feel like I was such a poser because I "pretended" that I practiced yoga regularly, when really I had only been practicing for a few months. I wanted so much at 17 to be a true yogini. But I knew that it would take time. Because I stuck with yoga and still practice, however sporadically, no one could tell me today that I do not understand the fundamentals of yoga and have a true foundation in the philosophy. And so there is no reason that I should have let that keep me from feeling like I was a yogini. My path led me here, and no one can disprove that those few classes I took as a junior in high school helped me along the way. Even at our beginnings, we are undeniably bound for success. That is the whole power of the future and the unknown. No one can really say "You'll never be a true yogini" or "You'll never become a doctor." Because they don't know the future. Maybe today is the first day of your 20 years as a massage therapist. Maybe all that journaling you've been doing for all these years will be a best-selling book in 3 years. Maybe yesterday was your first day as a lifelong bike commuter. The possibilities are truly endless.

This entire month I have been avoiding the theme Possibility because there is really only one thing that I want to be possible: getting this research job. I want to believe so much that it will happen, and I think I've done everything I can to make sure that this dream is realized. But since I don't know the future, I don't know if tomorrow will bring an end to this job search, and the beginning of another, or the beginning of 5 years with a health project in the Dominican Republic. I want to believe that it is possible. But if it doesn't work out, I have to imagine something equally acceptable to do with my life.

I firmly believe in listening to the messages that life sends you. For example, on a date with a guy that I liked, I got hit in the head with a sign. And that sign happened to say "Sign." That made it pretty clear. I also think that the job with St. Joseph's Villa did not work out because it wasn't right for me. When you have to work hard to make something feel good, it's probably not that good for you. I'm also hoping that it didn't work out because I was meant to have this job with the University of Rochester. And if not, I'm going to spend a lot of time working at a coffee shop and re-imagining my future.

I'll wrap this up with a little story from my friend, Brian Andreas. This has always been one of my favorites, and I think it fits pretty well with this evening's thoughts.

Everything changed the day she figured out
there was exactly enough time
for the important things in her life.


And, because I can't help myself, here's another:

In my dream, the angel shrugged & said,
If we fail this time, it will be a failure of imagination
& then she placed the world gently in the palm of my hand.

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