I confess: I need mantras in my life.
And I feel LAAAAME about that.
So lame--like I'm walking around the city putting my own little pep squad in my head, reciting to myself impromptu Chicken Soup for the Soul-like quotes. Constantly. I'm not paranoid enough to think that people can actually tell when I'm doing this (I may be lame, but I can also be quite covert).
But, oh dear god--I do this almost daily. And I'm feeling the need to do it grow and grow and grow, because I'm beginning to think that if I don't make a point to remain buoyant in every way possible (ie: staying active and proactive and staying connected to the people that I love...and now, apparently talking to myself) that I won't just inevitably sink, I won't recover.
I know people who have been there.
I legitimately fear that.
And I can see how entirely possible it is.
And how freaking quickly the feeling can creep up on you. Out of nowhere.
And then sometimes, I find that I try to force perspective and some kind of enlightenment or whatever upon myself, as opposed to just letting it happen. For fear that it won't. Like, OK:
The other day, I get out of work, and for once, I don't really feel like going to yoga. And I'm broke, and it's beautiful out (albeit freezing), and I figure Well, I could always walk home. That's like 5 or 6 miles...Oooh! The Brooklyn Bridge! Go to the Brooklyn Bridge--you've never walked it, take it home! Alone! Yayyy!
Oh my god, it's beautiful. If you ever just want to be subjected to something just altogether magnificent, go to there. It's just huge, and spectacular, this like spectacular work of art and genius and all of those things...and there you are, walking over this bridge from Manhattan to Brooklyn (I have never seen either borough look so good), and you look down and notice that you're walking across these antiquey looking wooden planks, and you look up and just see this giant of a thing, and you look out and see this water and this skyline, and you feel small. And it's so great. It is so so great.
And then I get off the bridge, and continue this walk home...and think to myself OK. So what did that teach me?
...That...I'm small?...
...OK, no really, what did that teach me? Where's my mantra? What did I learn? What do I need?...
As if that couldn't be enough. As if not even having come to that "small"-conclusion wouldn't have been enough. It's not enough to have just been there and done that for myself. It has to become What can I tell myself because of this?
Weird.
(Side-bar: I truthfully blame one of my professors from grad school for this kind of self-sabotage. He yelled at me once during a year-end evaluation and said the following...verbatim:
"Angela, you don't see enough. I dare you to see more. I bet that you only ever stop to look at the roses--this is me daring you to look at the homeless person sitting next to the roses. See him. And see what that says to you."
...What. A. Fucking pretentious moron.
...But yeah, it got to me just the same.
...And now here I am.)
So, that happens on occasion.
But more often than not, I just find myself listening. To everything. Acutely. What can you tell me that I'm not telling myself? What words do you have that I can carry around in my pocket?
Incidentally, I've become even more hooked to my iPod; it's like my Linus-blanket. I create little playlists for myself, seasonal-ones, atmospheric-like ones, etc. And then, I have to decide what is going to be my theme music for the day, my mantra...certainly, there are worse decisions to be made. Is this a "Helplessness Blues" kind of day, a "Living Proof" kind of day, or a "Lost in the World" kind of day? ..."What Ever Happened"?... "Take Five"? ..."99 Problems" (but a bitch ain't one)?
Generally, happily influential. Generally, a perfect representation of whatever kind of swagger or whatnot I need for that day.
But, even that kinda plan can betray you sometimes. You hear something differently, like a lyric suddenly means something totally different, or a chord in the song strikes a chord in you that you were kinda hoping to avoid...what then?
Where the hell'd my mantra go?!
And then--so ok.
One of the many reasons that I do love going to yoga as much as I do: they give you a quote at the end of each class, just something to think about, food for thought...words to marinate and breathe upon.
So, I'm laying there last night, pretty Zen in a candlelit room and our happily Zenned-out yogi at the front of the room says this and only this:
"Is it good? Is it necessary? Is it kind?"
...
Hm.
And it kinda rang in my ears. A lot. And for a while on into the evening.
And into today.
I don't know why. Maybe just because it's all-encompassing.
Am I being good/necessary/kind?
Is this good/necessary/kind for me?
What would be most good/most necessary/most kind for me/this/us?
It feels right, though.
"Is it good? Is it necessary? Is it kind?"
And for right this second right now, I don't even care if it sounds cliche or like an Oprah-endorsed frame of mind. Right this second right now, I'm owning it.
Walking around with it.
Hopefully, not looking too crazy in the process.
No comments:
Post a Comment