Listening

Walden

This is the handwritten text of the wonderful book by Henry David Thoreau taken at the Thoreau Institute this past summer when I was there.

This week, I am listening to the audio book as I drive to and from work. Audio books are a new experience for me because, frankly, listening to someone read makes me really sleepy. Really Sleepy. But recently, I have learned to listen and not doze off. (Really good since I am driving... don't you think??) This has added a whole new world for me and given my day that much more richness.

I have read this book no less than a half dozen times in as many years. Every time I read it, I come away more inspired and questioning my lifestyle and choices That Much More. The one thing that really has struck me this time is the awareness of what Thoreau defines as simplicity. He doesn't. Really, he doesn't. Rather, he states what it is for him and then acknowledges that everyone has their own idea of what this means. And, frankly, that this is enough.

As I have thought about this book, I have been considering my own choices and my life. I have written a number of times about how I want to simplify --- cut my attachments --- live a more concentrated life. And, I have written about how the time I spent on Walden Pond opened my eyes to what I was missing around me in my haste and hurry.

It has been very frustating to me that I keep running and running... and that life is still too busy to meet my hopes. As I have listened this week, however, it has dawned on me that simplicity doesn't happen all at once. No goal does. Not losing weight. Not saving money. Not even falling in love. Nopers. It happens with a series of single choices --- a minute, no, a second at a time. My frustration is falling away. I am proud of what has been accomplished. And, I am glad to keep taking that one step, making that one choice, until I can attain my goal.

We are all in the process of becoming, aren't we, as my friend Brenda has stated. Keeping this idea in front of me, well, gives me hope.

Freedom

It's official. I resigned from my co-directorship yesterday. And I feel gooooood, so gooood, I got my freedom, to plagarize James Brown!

It has been an agonizing decision. I love the workshop, the community in which it is held, and the participants (except when they have mosquito bites and make me go to the ER because they want to believe it is bedbugs).

But... isn't there always one of these in any situtation?

The long and the short of it is this: I was tired of working my arse off and someone else taking credit. I was tired of being jumped on for my political beliefs (which are more conservative than my partner's). I was tired of being treated like an administrative assistant. I was tired of people not even hazarding to think I had any knowledge on the topic just because I didn't have a PhD (piled higher and deeper). Or that I had nothing to say because I live on a farm in NW NC. After all, what could a gal in that situation think? Doesn't one need to be urbane to think? And, the final straw came when the partner screamed at me in a public place about an issue and the Entire Restaurant Turned Around and Listened to his rant. OMGoodness. Can you say mortified??

I share all this for one reason. Certainly all of us, except those few narsicistic souls who believe it is all about them, have been in this position. Many of us are boxed into relationships of some kind and feel like it is the Tar Baby -- we can't let go because we feel stuck.

Something happened to me in Walden Pond that I can't explain. I saw my life in a way that I understand addicts do: a moment of clarity when they realize the path they are on and can see both roads their life might take. As I floated there, I saw that my life was chocked full of things and people I really didn't like. And, I felt, as Henry wrote, that I was living a life of quiet desparation. There is a lot of pain accompanying this feeling and I wanted the pain to stop. And, the only way to do it was to clear all the clutter and say what I truly felt with kindness and love.

I slept the best last night that I have in months. It feels good to just say, "No." Heck, I might even get into the habit.