Slippery Puddles

The temperature outside is hovering around zero (Celsius that is). The already thickly frozen layers of ice and snow on the streets have begun to melt in the past 48 hours of indecisive temperature, making for everyone’s favorite messy mix of slush, ice and water.

This morning as I carefully navigated my way around the puddles that hid layers of ice as I made my way to buy produce at the bazaar, I began to think about this temperature hovering. “Come on!” I seemed to beg of the weather. “Pick a side, do you want to freeze and snow, or not and rain?” I found I wasn’t appreciating the ice below, rain above, slippery puddles. I wanted decisions. And appropriately so, this brought about the thoughts of where I am in my own life, also wanting clear and deliberate decisions. No one like fence-sitters- but why?

I have a little over 5 months of time left here in Moldova, as a Peace Corps volunteer. I have loved my time here. Things were hard, terrifying, enlightening, sad, joyful…things were the stuff life is made of. But now I know I need to think ahead of what to do next; where to go, with whom to be, work or school, domestic or foreign. As we all know this kind of thinking, when thought on too much, brings about anxiety. I am a slippery puddle. I am not warm and melted-flowing, but I am not fully frozen- stuck. Sometimes we start out wet and warm and in time start to freeze up. This is me now. I had been loving my life in Moldova-making my own schedule, working on multiple projects at once with many partners, meeting new and interesting people and experiences at every turn. It’s a rather perfect lifestyle for me.  And the idea of going into something that boxes me in (getting colder) and makes me ask how high when they say jump (and colder) and chains me to one desk in one place for the rest of my life (OMG almost frozen!!!)…ok you can see I am not being rationale. And other times we start out frozen. “I am NOT EVER going to do THAT”. And in time, we warm up to an idea, a place, a person. But life is not black and white, warm or frozen.

So why do we tend to be so uncomfortable in the middle. To be moving from one major life decision to the next, having not yet grabbed onto something “permanent” is probably the scariest thing in life. (And to note, permanency is a joke, as Shakyamuni Buddha explained, there are four inescapable realities: 1) we will all become old and frail. 2) It is absolutely certain that everything will constantly change. 3) Everything we achieve or accumulate will eventually fall apart and scatter. 4) We are all bound to die).

We’re all slippery puddles at times. Sometimes we’re warm pools or dry as a bone, sometimes we’re slush, sometimes we’re ice. But we’re always changing and choices will always need to be made. I don’t know how to embrace this zero degrees myself yet. Each time it happens, I KNOW I am in the middle of a huge life choice and lesson, and yet I still get worked up and just want to swim or slide, you know?! Sometimes you just want to have fun and see what happens. One thing I know to do, is as best I can, be light. “LIGHTEN UP JULIE, IT’S ALL GOING TO CHANGE ANYWAY”, a familiar voice echoes. The laughable part is that I am not even sure it’s what we choose or do or make that matters the most. I think it’s more important HOW we do it. Or at least equally important Do we listen, do we flow, do we trust? Or do we move with our head in the sand, making the choices out of fear?

Listen. Lighten. Flow.

Om shanti. Om peace.

Questions

View from my apartment window. A not-gray day.

I have been really quiet. Am I being secretive? Am I just so "wrapped up" in it all? I am leaning towards the latter. I am not usually afraid to share the details of my inner-most thoughts.  Am I feeling there is nothing worth sharing these days?

What am I spending my thought energy on now, in my 18th month  as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Moldova? What battle am I fighting in there? I asked and this came:

There is gray 

  On this day

There is no one 

   to say

How it all comes

   together

When a day is so gray

There's a quickness 

  to air

There's a stir 

  In my heart

Is there is something

   to grasp to?

Or is flying

   my art?

One part is 

  so gray

And the other 

   can't say

In which

 direction

Or what 

   to allay

This morning I awoke to a cold rain that soon became snow. Winter, it seems, has found Moldova. 

OM shanti

Om peace

Three Years Ago, Plus (Finally) Some Updates

Just realized something about myself...

Three years ago at the Sivananda Yoga Farm

I have gotten over beating myself up about not writing on my blog. At first it was a regular thing,, to scold myself. I promised myself I wouldn't be "like that". I would't become jaded about my experience and just stop writing. Well thankfully I am not feeling at all jaded. That's not it. What is it then? Why don't I have my almost-daily awakenings of one sort or another? Whether that little spark is to share a small story or some thought I had been chewing on for a while, in the past I wasn't at all hesitant to write, to share in word.

Well I think I finally have some insight about this. When I was home in the States, in my comfort zone if you will, I had all sorts of "free space" in my micro-processor mind for these sorts of insights. And NOW, in a new culture, new language, new people, new food, new new new life...that energy is redirected, in my case, to things like figuring out how to ask for a kilo of apples or how to approach a colleague about going about an old method in a new way. 

This redirecting of energy is no new concept. It's basic physics. Energy is never created nor destroyed, it's simply changed. So instead of me being able to share my inner mental/spiritual thoughts here, I am dreaming up and sharing with people in Moldova, face to face. I am helping to produce a film about pensioners trying to get by on $40 a month, helping a budding artist to share her work with a global audience, creating an international externship program, writing business plans with enthusiastic young people, meanwhile buying my apples and calling taxis in Russian. OHHHHH...so that's where the energy is going :) 

And this is what I asked for. Three years ago today I was embarking on a journey to my core. I arrived at the Sivananda Yoga Farm on October 1, 2009 with the aim of simply "raising my vibration". Of course becoming a certified yoga instructor was cool too-a useful trade I could take with me anywhere; but my main goal was one of self-discovery. Three months later, I found myself still at the Yoga Farm, working as staff, and having morning meditations that urged me to explore Karma Yoga. Karma Yoga means self-less service. This is where we work in exchange for simply being of use. There is no pay-off. There is no expectation. And last night I had a dream that someone kept urging me to read the part of my instructor's manual about Karma Yoga. It was a reminder. 

Yesterday was my brother-in-law's birthday. I wrote him a quick note today, in my remembering I hadn't done so the day before. When I read his thoughtful response that ended with the line, "I know your making the most of this time away....will be over in a blink of the eye", I cried. I cried and I let myself cry. Then I asked the question, WHY was I crying? They weren't sad tears. They were happy tears. Wait...and sad tears. I was crying knowing that my Peace Corps experience would end. That I would have more goodbyes than I wanted to think about. But I was also crying (and still am) because I realized something today. I realized that I really am creating my life. Three years ago at the Yoga Farm I promised myself to learn about karma yoga. For me this came in the idea of Peace Corps. And I did it. The idea came and I made it happen. And now I am here in the Republic of Moldova and am crying because I realize why I am here. And I am crying because I realize I haven't cried like this in a long time. And I am a crier. 

And so, after all of this rambling, I learned something about myself today. My crying and feeling and sensitivity, like in this night of crying over a line in an email, this is a great gift. All along I thought I was overly-sensitive and over-reactive, but in reality, I am processing what I am experiencing. And when I process instead of holding back, I am able to move. I can move through and on. I can flow. I know many people who do not process their emotions. They are stacked and packed, perfect packages or bombs ready to explode. I hope to share the gift of embracing the flow. I know I am creating my life, and I know that I am good at processing and moving through. I am still no expert, but I learning every day and getting stronger and stronger...SO GRATEFUL!

Celebrating my birthday with colleagues in Balti, Moldova