I don't know about you, but I like the idea of open unstructured days more than the actuality, where I become fidgety. Initially I'm uptight, too concerned about making the best use of my free time. Though it is meant to be just that - free time - no plan - no agenda, not my usual mix of driven task lists and deadlines. There is also the impulse to run away from too much silence, to fill the sound void with anything. Once alone I talk aloud to myself with less compunction. Though I have times when I absolutely love silence, I also can get fearful of them. What might unfurl should I fully surrender myself? So I fidget uncomfortably, reluctant to commit to any activity that comes to mind. Internally panicking at this indecisive drift and my inactivity. Time is literally slipping away. This silence will be the death of me.
And yet things do come up. Many years ago in Cambridge, I regularly went to see Richard - The Osteopath. A very fine practitioner, who was also adept at reading through your body the nature of the consciousness inhabiting it. One time, after a treatment had finished and I was putting my coat on to leave, he made an observation that was right on the button. 'I get the feeling that you are like a shop full of very beautiful objects, lovingly displayed, everything just so. But if one tiny thing disappoints, becomes lost, broken or out of place then your whole life, the shop, everything - in your mind tumbles into ruins' The discomforting truth of this statement reappeared again this week.
I've been reflecting on gratefulness, in the wake of watching talks and reading books by Brother David Steindl-Rast, who has written rather a lot on this subject. Its made me realise quite how ungrateful I have been at times, particularly with how my life has turned out. That it wasn't how I originally imagined it would be, was a flaw in my perception, not of myself or the world. When I reflect on my life now, I have been fortunate, with much to feel grateful for. However, some grudges, resentments, disappointments still linger on well past their Use Before date. Am I going to go to my grave still holding onto these? Will I move on? By the end of my days will it be grudges or gratefulness?
Brother David refers a lot to living in the 'given' world, being present to it, aware and responsive. Seeing each day is a gift, a surprise and an opportunity. That you can only truly feel grateful for a 'gift' when you recognise and acknowledge that it is 'a gift' and you value or find meaning in the thing you've been given. My practice at the moment is with the latter - valuing what I've been given. I so easily devalue things, myself included, what I do, what has happened, what other people do for me. As a consequence I fail to express my gratitude enough. Mostly because in the moment what there is to be grateful for is being obscured by ungratefulness, dislike, even aversion. Perhaps one thing is not quite right in the carefully curated little shop of very precious objects, that is my life. Obsessing over what isn't quite right means I tend to overlook all the rest that is.
There is an American saying 'When life serves you lemons, make lemonade'. A lot that happens to us feels, and maybe is, awful at the time. Life can be difficult to handle emotionally. But often these sorts of situations have, in the past, prompted me to take active steps to move on from them. To forge a new direction from which to grow. Whatever turns up, whatever the world presents, it will be some sort of opportunity for practise. To make some progress with dealing better with myself, others, work, ethics, creatively. Nothing changes if you can't face it, examine it, go with it, not against it. Over time I have gained some trust in life and in my resourcefulness to deal with it. Even though what happens is perhaps not what you think you want right now, in time this will be fine, this will be perfectly OK. You'll find yourself laughing about this very same thing in the future. But this doesn't mean you should ever roll over and go passive to it. Be grateful for the lemons, but start preparing to make the lemonade.
Gratitude, so Brother David insists, cannot be just words, it must be demonstrabe. Its genuineness is shown in ones responses and actions. The depth of your gratefulness depends upon the meaning 'the gift' has for you. Sometimes I operate on an 'idea' of what has meaning for me, trying it on for size like a hat. But meaning inhabits you, because it feels fulfilling and something to feel grateful for. Your sense of purpose may be connected to that meaning. But when its not, then it easily becomes a willful driven sense of purpose that could eventually burn you out.
Likewise any 'idea' about what has meaning is never going to be enough. You have to be willing to relinquish the idea of having complete control of ones destiny. Meaning enters whenever your guard is down. There may be an opportunity being thrown up here. Whether you pick up on what that is, will partly be dependent on how present, aware and willing you are. Noticing the difference between being willful and being willing, is something I've yet to fully recognise and learn.
Currently I'm holding in mind the word 'leisurely' another quality Brother David Steindl-Rast writes about. Practising a more 'leisurely' approach to a task, permitting myself whatever time it requires. To not let deadlines or perceived ideas of being productive or goals dominate. Leaving space around my work in which to enjoy the task as a task, not as a mission.
Taking a more leisurely and playful attitude towards tasks requires some active awareness. For, as Brother David points of, in play we sing, we dance, we enjoy, without needing to know why we are singing, dancing or enjoying. Play doesn't need to have meaning brought to it, it is there in the very doing of it. Every task, however menial, has meaning locked away somewhere within it. Should we be in too much of a hurry to get it over with, we might just blink and miss it.
What Brother David has said about taking a more leisurely approach to work, has strongly resonated with me. I recognise what he's talking about, in my own willfulness and experience of its consequences. But its easy to say these sort of things in the abstract, when I'm not currently in my normal work mode and lifestyle. This needs testing in the anvil of circumstance.
The first thing, however, that precipitates change is always awareness. Once you are aware of something you cannot put it back in the box and become unaware of it again. You could act upon it, or not act upon it. You could try repression, but lets not go there shall we. What would a leisurely approach to a task actually feel like? Am I willing to find out?
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