Taking Hold of Our Minds

     Our minds are loud and wildly out of control.

    If we allowed our bodies to run as freely as we do our minds we would dash around constantly and only get where we were going after innumerable dead ends, endless detours and countless arguments with strangers as well as friends. 

     If our mind was a horse, we would get on without bridle or saddle, wrap our legs around its belly, our arms around its neck, close our eyes and let it run wild. If we spoke out loud all the noise in our minds none of us would look any more sane than the “crazy people” we see walking down the street in conversation with themselves.

    Take a moment, close your eyes and listen to your mind. Better yet, try to still it. Time yourself. How long can you go without a thought?  I do not mean to imply that thinking is bad. In fact, it is just this black and white, good and bad thinking we need to bring into some semblance of balance. What I am asserting is that we must learn to observe our thoughts with some measure of detachment and then intervene on them when they are unhelpful or ineffective. When we have honed our skills in this practice we will be able to take hold of our minds and choose our responses and behaviors much like we could take back control from our bolting horse by picking up the reins.

Tuesday Morning

It is 6:30 Tuesday morning. I have hunkered down on a meditation cushion in front of my now blazing wood stove not for the purpose of meditation, but with laptop at hand, in order to confess. I didn't write a thing yesterday. It completely got away from me. I reviewed some of my writing, I organized my journal, I corresponded with friends (sort of writing), but that's it.

From where I sit two feet from the fire, I can see the outlines of the treetops, junipers, scrub oaks and ponderosa pines, outside the windows of the "east wing" and the hills beyond framing a backdrop for the trees. The outline begins in a faint yellow and fades to greenish-blue then to grey. A tiny pop of orange settles low on the horizon. The sun is just considering coming up. I can hear the crackle of my fire and the hum of its fan as it blows out a gentle stream of warmth that brushes over my busy hands and caresses my cheeks and my slightly stuffy nose. My daughter's phone alarm went off a few minutes ago, briefly belting out a song which she quickly silenced. One of my dogs, recently released into the morning, barks at an unseen animal and my kitchen clock ticks, ticks, ticks.

My computer and my fire are the only true illumination in the room right now. Their glow touches on aspects of my furniture bringing them into ghostly focus. My cats roam silently and companionably nearby occasionally touching my arm or my leg, nibbling on a toe, adding to the feeling of hovering friendly spirits.

New Year's Eve

On New Year's eve we had a little shindig at our house, just a few close friends and neighbors. At the end of the evening a few of us found ourselves in the kitchen (where else?) deep into a conversation about aliens, the extraterrestrial kind. The participants in this conversation consisted of myself, an engineer, a social worker, a university grant manager (the current money gig for this very talented woman) and a drug and alcohol counselor who is also an avid student of the subject.

"Don't even get me started," he said. So of course we did. The conversation ranged from the mundane (my most recent close call with alien abductors dream) to the surreal (ideas for alien christmas cards). Somehow or other, despite the differences in perspective, we all had an amazing time and I laughed harder than I have  in a very long time.

It was a brilliant way to ring in the new year. I am one incredibly lucky woman.

Punishment: a cultural phenomenon

    We are a culture that believes in punishment. Not just for the criminal or the misbehaving child but in almost every interaction we have from our intimate partners to our global enemies and friends.