Purpose and passion

I have been thinking on this foggy, chilly spring day about purpose. What is my purpose with this blog, in this day, in my life? Although having a purpose may not be needful for existence, I think most humans feel they should have one. Which makes perfect sense as most living things have a purpose. This is simply to eat, reproduce, and survive. We are a bit beyond that though and finding purpose in today's society is harder than it should be. Because it is easy to confuse having a purpose with just following along with what everyone else thinks is the appropriate thing to be doing.
I have a problem with this. Mostly because I don't buy into it. I hate the 9 to 5 grind that tells you to work more, consume more, have 2.5 children and a house in suburbia. And don't forget your very large flatscreen television with which you can numb yourself to the complete mediocrity of your life. Don't get me wrong, many people find relief in loved hobbies such as gardening, hiking, or dancing. And people certainly love and find purpose in their children. But I always think it is somehow wrong to spend the majority of your time doing something you feel ambivalent about and regulating your passions to those few hours you have free, if you have the energy. Even mothers do it these days as they rush back to work after maternity leave, so they can rejoin the rat race and pay the bills. I just find it hard to believe that in their hearts most people want to sit in cubicles or even offices, in front of computers typing away. I think most people want to create and have freedom. But if your work really is your passion and your true purpose, congratulations! You have arrived at a point that I am still reaching for in my life. Because I want to live a life less ordinary. I want to do this for me, but also for Eowyn. I want her to see that life is not a day to day grind, but a wonderful journey where anything is possible and you never have to settle for just enough happiness or contentment. She deserves to see a joyous life and learn that she really can do whatever makes her heart fly, all the time. Which she can, people are doing it.
So I come back to my purpose. What do I enjoy? What makes me light up in the morning? Certainly not my day job, which I have to drag myself out to bed for with no small amount of moaning and groaning. I challenge everyone to think on this. Because if you can define your passion then you can start to live that passion. And that means you will have finally found a purpose worth working for that is all your own. And you should dream big and never think that you cannot survive by following that dream. It is interesting how many opportunities show up when you let go of fear and follow life. I have seen it happen over and over. You may have to give up some things and live a different lifestyle at least at first, but many of those things are unimportant anyway. As for me, I admit that I am still working on it. Passion I have in spades, for horses, writing, nature, and of course my family. Now I just have to make that leap of faith completely so that those passions can be my sole (or soul) purpose. I am starting to believe it is possible. What about you?

Season of seeds

Spring is starting to lift her lovely head out of the snows of winter here in the Adirondacks. Birds are starting to sing their joyous spring song and earth damp from snow melt is appearing even in the forests. A walk outside is to be inundated with the smells that carry the promise of warmer weather to come. The signs of decay and rebirth are everywhere. Piles of wet, rotten leaves sporting various fungi and the tiniest buds appearing on the trees all point to arrival of a new season. This is always a favorite time for me as my imagination starts to run wild with the possibilities of summer. And one of those possibilities is always a garden.
Gardening in the High Peaks Region of the Adirondacks is no bargain despite big dreams of plenty. Our growing season is short, cold, and often very wet compared to other areas. To add to that our soil is often rocky and not always as nutrient rich as one would hope. Tomatoes struggle even in the best of years and many have resorted to only growing them in the greenhouse. I have not given up on them yet though and still hope to find the perfect variety of tomato for this region. So I have taken out my seed catalog and I have made my list of seeds. It is long. Actually, it is much more ambitious than any other year. And all I can think is how am I going to juggle a garden of this size with horses and the baby. My gardens have often succumbed to neglect just because of the horses, and now I have even more responsibility that does not include weeding!
But the call of the earth is strong. And it is even stronger this year because Eowyn has decided to bless us with all kinds of food intolerance. Wheat is right out and dairy and soy have to be very limited. This leaves me eating vegetables and meat, a whole food diet of the most basic sort. In my heart I feel that instead of buying not so good looking vegetables from the supermarket, I should provide us with lovely organic food grown with my own hands. It will be cheaper in the long run and healthier for me and her and the planet. I am determined to turn the unfortunate fact of her food intolerance into a real blessing that shows up on our table daily. I am going to take this season of seeds and rebirth and extend it year round. Eowyn may be the most minimalist person I know. She wants love, affection, a dry diaper, and food that is worth eating. Simple, nutritious, and delicious. And food like that is best grown from seeds under a watchful eye of a loving mother.

The Baby Crisis

So everyone has heard of the mid-life crisis. Our culture abounds in jokes, stories, and self help books all about this phenomenon. But no one ever talks about the baby crisis, and I am willing to bet it happens more than anyone knows or admits. Lets be clear, having a baby crisis has nothing to do with postpartum depression. That is a medical and chemical issue that has been documented. The baby crisis is more a spiritual problem. It is the process of finding out who you are after the birth of your baby.
When you have a child everything changes. I believe that most people go into it knowing this fact intellectually, but maybe not emotionally. I know I had not really internalized it and only now, over two months into motherhood, am I realizing the full extent of that change. It is virtually impossible to be the exact same person you were before baby. Maybe this will be an unpopular opinion, but I think it is a true one. Life suddenly revolves around that tiny person. All walks of life experience this. Bar hoppers no longer go out all the time and runners run less especially in the beginning. There is less time for gardening, biking, reading, and traveling. I spend less time with my horses and other animals. I meditate and do yoga less. I hike and run less. It is enough to really start you questioning who you are in the grand scheme of things. It causes some deep thought processes about what in your life is really important. Because the fact is that with a baby you just don't have time to do everything you did before. Something has to give. I am realizing that it is going to be a long time before I can go back to being the before baby me. And by that time I will probably not remember who that was anyway. This can be incredibly scary, hence the crisis. I am trying to turn it around into liberating.
So I have been thinking about what really matters in my life. What are those things that are so intrinsic to me that I cannot give them up and what is just chaff? What do I want my daughter to see in me when she is old enough to notice? For me this thought process has caused me to discard some things and uncover some old hobbies that have fallen to the wayside. I am becoming less selfish as I search for the things that I love that I can share and do with her, instead of just things for myself that would leave her on her own. I am looking for ways to meld my life with her needs. Because maybe the real baby crisis is the fact that I don't want to be without her as much as I thought I would. I want to share my joys, my sorrows, my passions, my triumphs, and failures so that as she grows she will share hers with me. Because motherhood changes your life and I am betting that it is not actually a crisis, although it may sometimes feel like one, but a blessing. I am simplifying my life so that I have room in it for the most important passion; love.

The Death and Rebirth of Minimalism

My life may just be the death of minimalism and simple living. I love both these ideas. I hold them close to my heart and take them out to polish and croon over whenever I have a free moment to think. The concept of letting go of possessions, trimming down, needing less, buying less, and working less is almost my mecca I suppose. The environmental benefits that come with this style of living make it even more attractive, as well as having the time to pursue more creative and enjoyable aspects of my life. But lets be honest, I have a lion's share of stuff. And the hard part is most of it isn't really mine! I have piles of dog stuff, mountains of horse things, even the baby has her own room for all the belongings she has acquired at the tender age of 10 weeks. She doesn't sleep in that room, she sleeps with us, but we still need that room for her things. And it is overwhelming to think about the other items that fill my life. We have closets full of climbing gear, backpacking gear, kayaking gear, snowboarding gear, and miscellaneous gear for who knows what. Heirlooms and decorative items fill shelves, cupboards, and top dressers. This list could go on endlessly. And it is very hard to think of getting rid of any of it. Some of it I cannot get rid of anyway. Babies and animals require a certain amount of things to make sure they are cared for properly. But letting go of the extraneous stuff seems just as hard. My unacknowledged pack rat is coming to the forefront and fighting tooth and nail for every knickknack and item. So I have looked at my life and thought that I cannot simplify or live a minimalist life and that has depressed me. Until now. Because lately I have been thinking about it a different way. I have been trying to practice going with the flow instead of always swimming upstream. This is something that both Taoism and Buddhism teach, yet it it is so hard to put into practice. I have started realizing that my life is beautiful as it is right now. I don't have to get rid of everything and live a monastic life. I can only do what I can I do. The value in the minimalist way of thinking is in the fact that anyone can simplify to make their life better. I do not have to get rid of everything and have only one set of clothes for myself or the baby. I can love and enjoy my horses even though they are not exactly the minimalist ideal. But I also can still refuse to buy things I don't really need and throw those things away that really are not adding anything to my life. And it will still be liberating and it will still benefit my life. I am going to start with my books. I have more books than anyone needs, so I am going to weed out those that don't mean anything to me and that I haven't read in years. And from there I will see where it takes me, maybe to my closet or to some of those knickknacks. It is a rebirth of minimalism for me, one that doesn't make me feel guilty about what I can't do, but freed by what I can. I challenge you to look at your life this week and find one area that you can simplify and do it! It will make you feel better, it really will!

My beautiful girl

I cannot wait to open my eyes and see her every morning. Her presence in my life is a source of great peace and happiness. In fact, I cannot imagine my life without her in it. The beauty and joy she brings to the world as she moves through it is a constant source of amazement to me. That a being can live so in the moment, on zen time, and have so much trust in the world around her defies all my cynical moments. In many ways she is the role model for me in my taoist practice and in gliding gracefully through life. No one I know lives more at one with the world around her and finds so much joy in the simplicities of life. Everyone may think I am talking about Eowyn and it is true all these things apply to her as well. But actually I am talking about a relationship that has been around much longer than Eowyn, the one I have with my dog Siobhan. No relationship has meant more to me in many ways. Through the good times and the hard ones she has been my constant companion for almost twelve years. And now she is getting old. This is a fact of life that everyone ages and grows old, yet I find myself railing against it.
All this comes up because Siobhan had an accident last night. She peed all over the bed at three in the morning while I was in the nursing chair with Eowyn. This is always frustrating, especially when you are trying to climb back into bed, dead tired, to finally get some sleep only to find your spot soaked. But what really bothered me was that she was asleep and did not even know she had done it. My Siobhan has not lived a life without accidents in the house, she is a dog. But she was always aware of them and completely embarrassed and mortified at what she had done. She would run to the door or to a hiding spot, sure she had done something wrong. So to see her last night sleeping in a huge wet spot, oblivious to the fact she had even gone to the bathroom, broke my heart into pieces. She still doesn't know what happened and I am not telling her. The reality of her aging is hard enough on me and I would spare her the knowledge of her incontinence for as long as possible. My own aging process has brought me some amount of grief. Things don't come as easily physically as they use to and food sticks in the wrong places easier on me than I would like these days. But the aging of my beautiful puppy has rubbed a raw spot on my soul that has changed me. Suddenly mortality is really real and I know one day I will have to say good bye to her and other loved ones in my life. Sure, people I love have passed away, but no one I have lived so closely with as I have with Siobhan. And it makes me realize I will have to watch my beautiful daughter grow up and leave infanthood behind. She will hopefully outlive me by many wonderful years, but I will still be here to see her outgrow her need for me as she becomes an independent person. So I am going to rededicate myself today to the Buddhist practice of living in the Now. I am going to enjoy every moment of every day of Eowyn's childhood good and bad, whether she is fussy or smiling. But most of all I am going to go hug my Siobhan and I am going to do it every chance I get. And I am going to thank her every day for being her and not think about what happens tomorrow.
I am going to live in that timeless Now where we are always together and she is always my beloved puppy.

The Cold Conundrum

Eowyn, who is 9 weeks old, has a cold. This presents a huge conundrum for me. I know I should not worry. I believe I should not worry. Yet I still find myself counting her wheezing breaths at night and constantly checking her color and temperature, unable to sleep myself. Peace and stillness of mind seems absolutely impossible to achieve when I hear her little cough or listen to her breathe. I scan the internet looking for clues on how to help her, what her symptoms could mean. A practice I do not suggest to anyone by the way. It will just make you more worried and crazy! The doctor has said she is fine, ZenDad assures me that she is not going to die from a little cold, yet that worry is persistent. Last night I found myself practicing my breathing, trying to relax as she lay on my chest fitfully sleeping. I began to wonder how much worry is healthy in a mother and when does it take control of your life and become a source of stress? I also wondered if the worry of a mother is even something you can control. Is constant worrying for your child just part of the motherhood package? I made a pact with myself to try to keep my worrying to a minimum and trust in Eowyn and myself. This is just the beginning and if I worry this much I am going to make her a nervous child. Life happens and she is going to get sick, break bones, fall off horses, crash snowboarding, and all kinds of things I cannot control nor probably imagine. Nor should I try and control them. ( I probably should not try to imagine them either!) Life lived to the fullest is never completely safe and I want her to experience all life has to offer, safe or not. Controlling my worry may not be as easy as writing about it, however. It is a conundrum that I am going to have to work on as she grows. But now I have to go. She is wheezing and I need to count her breaths and make sure she is alright. Then I better go meditate on the fact that worry is doing nothing good for me or her!