A few posts back I wrote about an eloquent saying I had come across:
“Open your hand and let the dead wood drop”
I still love that metaphor. Not chucking the wood, not chopping it up into pieces; just opening my hand and letting it drop to the ground, right where I am standing.
I never have any problem accumulating shit. Building up my ego. I live sparsely compared to most Americans; I live like a king compared to people in underdeveloped countries – it’s a matter of perspective. Most of my accumulations are in my head and heart. I need regular clearings. Spiritual enemas. A washing out of all that accumulated waste that keeps me from taking in what I need in life. I walk around with a clenched fist. Just open your fuck’n hand already, John. Sit down and be still.
I say the above with a smile. My background was/is about perfectionistic German anger (apparently the only emotion that was “natural” for most family members to convey). The reason? Be tough, the world’s a harsh fuck’n place; you need to be tough to survive, to watch your back (although the “hard work” ethic has served me well too). I have to grin; that way of thinking creeps up every now and then, but in another sense it is so foreign.
My “hard work ethic” rears up at times too, it tells me to “doing something” (like go chop up the dead wood and analyze it *grin*). Damn, it’s dead wood – let it go, John.
I don’t beat myself up anymore and at the same time I am still able to hold myself to standards of development – in a friendlier way ( a bit more compassion towards myself). Sometimes a metaphorical slap upside the head does me well though, other times a metaphorical friendly conversation over a cup of tea does me well. I am more reactive to the former and tend to be far more attentive when the latter is used.
It’s just a reaction to how I was raised. A part of my psychological evolution. Not unfamiliar to many of us. It’s a common way to be raised.
Another part of being raised in my family is to view life as black and white. Fuck colors, there’s hardly any room for grey, haha. This has challenged me to let go even more. Letting go means choices, means possibility.
Who doesn’t love a world with possibilities? To be able to say “I don’t Already know”. To be open.
I came across another “open hand” writing that again gave me yet another choice. Not just one way. It was like a slap upside the head that stopped me in my tracks so I could sit down with a comforting cup of jasmine green tea *smirk*. (It also works well regarding a “clinging” that comes with our financial times right now or a “clinging” to the last 8 years of our political climate)
Tricycle’s Daily Dharma
Sure someone can take the coin, or not. Someone can add to the coin, or not. Willingness. Possibility. Choice. Openness. (and maybe even letting go)
Have a good one and thanks for stopping by.
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