LISTS: WHAT I'D LIKE TO DO TOMORROW

I know people who make lists. Of course, it helps them remember what's on the list, but it's also good for giving structure to the day. The list tells them what needs to be done. Some people feel good checking items off; it gives them a sense of accomplishment, of clearing the decks. I imagine it's like what I feel like when I clear off the dining table which is usually piled high with books and papers; clearing off the stuff, finding a place for the stuff, seeing the cleared table top - it's a very good feeling.
     Articles about successful people often mention that they make lists. Why then don't I?  Actually, I on occasion I do make a list but then promptly forget that I have and don't look at it. Other times I look at it and shrug - does that really need to be done today, does it really need to be done at all? I let myself off the hook of doing things that I myself want to do. I give myself a choice when making a list is already the decision. It's very odd.
     Procrastination is certainly part of it. I have a theory that I always know where the last minute is and can meet the deadline. Do I actively seek out the pressure of leaving things undone? Why haven't I learned to silence the voice inside me that says it's all right not to do, to let things slide? Why do I still feel so resistant to anything that says "should" to me - even if it's something I want to do?  
     I also feel a strong pull toward oblivion, a desire to get out from under having to pay attention, most especially to my life. The fog is seductive -- a part of me wants to enter it -- and I can see a use for it; I never have to leave my comfort zone and challenge myself to think or act. More than odd - perverse.
     I've been aware of these things in me for a long time and have struggled to get past the unwilled obliviousness, procrastination and desire to zone out. I've made progress - today I did my work in the morning, went to see a friend, came home and did some more work, and now I'm writing here which is something I want to do because it makes me feel good.

     There's another voice inside and it's gotten louder as I've been writing here. Stop luxuriating in the fog; stop all your excuses, just get up and do. That's a good voice, one I want to listen to.
     Here's what I'd like to do tomorrow. I'll get up early and make a list. I won't make it very long; it's counterproductive to make a list of things I can't possibly accomplish. I'll do the first item on the list and feel the satisfaction of an intention fulfilled. Then I'll return to the list to see what the next item is. I'll do it. There won't be any waffling in my head, no debate. I'll just go down the list.
    
     

RESISTANCE, AGAIN

I'm in awe of people who embrace routine. Housekeeping, exercise, work - they feel a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction from doing daily things. 

     I'm the opposite most of the time. I resist doing, getting up and doing, even things that I know would make me feel better. Exercising self-discipline in general would give me a real boost of self-esteem.  I know that and still I resist. Resistance has a certain feel in my body and I recognize it. You'd think being able to identify it so specifically would help me get passed it. But old habits die hard and I've had such a long time of falling back when resistance comes up.

     I've thought long and hard about why this is true. My childhood, my depression, my lifelong default position... those are interesting whys but as well as I know them, that knowledge hasn't led me to changed behavior. There needs to be some other way.

     In meditation, if painful feelings come up, I know not to run from them. I turn my attention to where that pain is in my body - my chest, my belly - and when I concentrate for as long as it takes, my attention eventually dissolves the pain. That practice can help me with resistance. When it comes and I feel it in my body, I can focus on it and let my attention dissolve it. Even if I don't get up and do, I'm sure the repetition of that focus, dissolving resistance again and again, will help. It may be in the long run, though I put so much pressure on myself to make it the short run. I can relieve some of that pressure, maybe most of it, if I cultivate patience and lovingly forgive myself again and again.

     Change will only come if I'm willing, and willingness only comes out of surrender, and asking help from the Spirit of the Universe or whatever it is I find myself asking for help. Something greater than myself, out beyond my conscious mind. I must remind myself over and over again to ask for this help. I know that simply in asking I'm helping myself along the way.     

     

THE BONDAGE OF SELF, AGAIN

I've been thinking all day about the bondage of self. It's been one of those days when I believe what the voices in my head are telling me. One of those days when I am nothing but resistance, against all the things I need to do, against moving in any way, internally and externally. One of those days when I can't seem to fight against shame and the spectre of a hundred failures. One of those days, despite my believing so deeply that I'm constructing a prison of my own making. I alone confer meaning on my experience. I know this in my bones and still I have days when I let my harshest thoughts become "real," as if they are beyond my control.

     The bondage of self...sometimes I feel I can break the chains I bind myself up in. I imagine soaring like an eagle, riding on gentle breezes that will never fail to keep me aloft. I imagine that freedom will last forever. I imagine I won't have to work for the only freedom I will ever feel.

     I know better. I, very few of us, will walk into another dimension where all will be free and easy. So I remind myself that the eagle must look for food, as I must look for ways to chip at my chains. Sometimes I feel like a rabbit in a burrow, pushing a rock forward inch by inch, unable to see around it. Then the rock falls away and I find myself exactly where I want to be, or maybe it's better to say I want to be exactly where I find myself.

     Then the cycle begins again. I build another prison and work to break free. Even on days like today, when I'm nothing but resistance, I know great wheels are turning inside me and I'll be willing to push the rock again. Not like Sisyphus, as a punishment, but as a woman who knows from direct experience that the rock will fall away, that moments of freedom are possible for me.