Thursday, June 19, 2014

Full Contact Sudoku & Other Family Games

36"x36" mixed media with cold wax
I'm not going to mention any names or anything but I really think someone should send me a tee shirt that says, "I survived sudoku".  I mean full contact sudoku, where I am pinned in a corner by a nonagenarian with a sharp pencil and hard pink eraser, annoyance cranking up to about  7 on my richter scale.  Now this is what I call good practice.  Not that I ever had any illusions about my proximity to enlightenment, but you know that saying, "if you think you're enlightened, go spend some time with your family" (blood related or otherwise). In this particular scenario I managed to dial down the richter scale and  have fun learning about sudoku which I had previously regarded as a close relative to arsenic.

I didn't just whip over the provinicial border into all-beef-Alberta to get some coconut bacon (though that is always a good excuse for a road trip).  I did it so I could find  the specific places where my practice needs some serious tweaking (oh, and spend some time with the fam)  I remember being at a retreat where a mother of 2 small children said something like, "I get up every morning with the best of intentions, but in a few minutes I hear myself saying things I feel bad about." Her comment came to mind this week,  because I arrived for a family visit all starry eyed with good intentions to take on the family pain and mishigas (which means craziness in Yiddish) with skill and compassion. It didn't take long to find myself wondering why I agreed to this trip and when can I leave.  I learned how quickly  good intentions can turn to ethereal puffs of dust and how short the lit fuse of patience can be.

12"x24" mixed media with cold wax
When I had a peek into the internal combustion engine of emotion I could see that my annoyance was really "wishing things were other than they were" It was me saying to myself, "I don't like this, it should stop." Apparently the perpetrators of sudoku and other petty crimes didn't see it quite that way.  They carried on without notice while I wondered, "do I have to listen to this story again?  How do I escape this relative's angry rant?  Why do I feel like an inconvenience because I prefer lunch that has never had a face?

I could see the urge to take things personally, rather than accept them at face value. "Are you insinuating I'm weird when you ask about my chia seed and hemp milk breakfast?" You might be, but I don't know that for sure and I only aggravate myself with this assumption.  It's a story of my own making, based on what I think you think, based on your tone of voice, the look on your face and our past history.  The petri dish of misunderstandings.  Everything in this pot is simmering below the surface. Why can't I simply process the question without an emotional charge?  Truth is, sometimes a question feels like just a question and sometimes it feels like an innuendo.  To see that was helpful.  To see that my irritation was based in my thoughts often formed at lightning speed, concocted out of my own defensiveness and self protection was humbling.

And so I learned that I needed breaks and walks to renew my intentions to be kind, compassionate and open hearted. I needed to toss some of that compassion  in my own general direction.  The stuff that felt annoying was simply a collision of their pain and my pain, of their habits and my differing ones. When our habits coincided we were all fine. What irritates me might not irritate you.  Sometimes I could quickly catch myself and reorient and renew my intention to be kind, maybe even curious. "What is that person really saying, what is that all about?  Why are they only interested in the past?  Why do strangers frighten them?  Why does my strange food bother them?  Can I just listen with an open heart without needing to respond?  Can I simply enjoy this person's company? Can I simply enjoy this moment?  Can I simply be with what is?

And so the teaching and the practice continued; in fits and starts, me rushing into the jousting ring in full armour or completely naked, getting poked and running for cover, sometimes laughing at the absurdity of the whole thing, sometimes grumbling to myself like a disgruntled 5 year old.  In the end I can say I learned that it's about renewing my intention each time I get pushed off course, of cutting myself some slack, of cutting others some slack and sometimes having a good laugh about the absurdity of the whole human predicament.  It is about remembering to look at the sky or listen to the raucous call of a magpie or simply appreciate the dharma practice of being in a family.

PS, I bought 2 sudoku books, and one of them is for me which is solid proof that if you are open, you never know what will happen.




16 comments:

  1. You are a 'crazy-'good' storyteller. Family can bring out the best and the worst in us. But, family always presents a mirror for us to see our true nature.

    ReplyDelete
  2. ha, ha, thanks Sharon. the mirror is always there if we're willing to peer into it, no?

    ReplyDelete
  3. Oh my goodness....Thankyou. I am currently going through my own family practice and this has just brought me back to base ! Everything is for us ..... and you have reminded me of that :0)

    ReplyDelete
  4. I saw that you were back in England. Yes, nicely said, it is all for us and our benefit. And that coming back to base is what helps us to keep seeing that rather than collapsing into a heap of blame which over exposure will surely bring us to. But then that can be reorienting too!

    ReplyDelete
  5. I've missed your posts and seeing your art. These 2 are amazing in their clarity and I can easily sit with both of them for the longest time.
    Good ongoing family connections ... my family will be visiting in July and August so reading your take was full of good reminders ... not that it will help when I'm in the middle of it ... I will need to work that out as it happens! A mixture of feelings already! ha

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. thanks Mary Anne. I'm not sure where the time goes, between my fingers usually. I agree, we're never quite sure what we'll do until we're in the middle of it! I think it's all about prepare and let go!

      Delete
  6. Hi Carole! :) I agree with Blue Sky Dreaming - these 2 particular paintings have a lot of clarity and light that are beautiful.

    You know I have some serious family issues...And I understand what it feels like to be a fish out of water, if you know what I mean. You just can't breathe sometimes in the family environment! As you know I have tried meeting my situation with compassion, kindness and understanding, but I have also come to see that one does not have to take abuse and disrespect - even if it comes in the form of humor... Sometimes I try too hard to pretzel myself into different shapes as to not offend, which is not good either.
    I still haven't figured out how to be with this prickly situation in a way that works for all of us... I love how you took care of yourself in your situation, and were just *with* it.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. hey, Christine so nice to see you here! it's complicated, isn't it? and simple at the same time. We kind of feel our way along like we're blind sometimes. Seeing the absurdity and the ego in it helps me sometimes. And this is my partner's family. Always seems more difficult with the birth family, so many more tentacles to get wrapped in. happy Solstice to you!

      Delete
  7. Oh I can relate, we have all been there. My mother passed away 2 years ago and even though I miss her
    the family is now though not perfect not crazy making
    anymore :-).
    Good that you worked through it and came out the better for it.
    I love these pieces, I find the first one very calming.
    xoxo

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks Annie! Yes my mother (gone 4 yrs now) was the queen of crazy making for me! This nongenarian belongs to my partner and has a little of that power too! Toss in a few more family characters and we've got a real fruit salad!

      Delete
  8. You did well, Carole, to walk and take breaks. Kind of like.... "step back from the car" alarm that goes off when someone stands too close to an expensive car..... step back from the family...... and breathe.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. That's a good analogy Carole! Sometimes it felt more like the Ikea ad where the woman screams "start the car."

      Delete
    2. That ad makes me laugh every time I see it!
      Man, they are good marketers!!!

      Delete
  9. This comment has been removed by the author.

    ReplyDelete
  10. family is the hardest thing we do!! at least that is my opinion!! it is forever in some form or another, no? these pieces on first glance appear so wonderfully simple and then BAM! not so much! beautiful, happy summer! xo

    ReplyDelete
  11. there is a quip that goes something like "I may have pushed your buttons but I didn't install them. I think family participates in the installation!

    it's so interesting with the painting. My preference is for simple. I just don't seem to be able to do it. It's so interesting to watch. I wonder sometimes if I just don't think "my simple" is enough?

    yes happy summer days, Jeane!

    ReplyDelete