Celebration

I got the computer!!!!

Of Computers and Clowns

I bought a computer yesterday. A Mac Book. No big deal, right? Some folks prefer PCs, some prefer Macs. Wrong. This purchase was bigger than that. For all intents and purposes, having a Mac prevents me from working remotely at my current job. Increasingly, given Andi's and my conversation about where we are going to be after she graduates in next month, it looks like we won't be in the Bay Area.

What's the point? I've just made a major purchase for my private coaching practice.

Scary. And exciting. I just keep plugging away as if it's already so, as if there is no one to answer to but myself. And, indeed, it's true. There is no one, ultimately, to answer to in this.

I keep coming back to the archetype of the clown that my (theater) teacher spoke about a couple of weeks ago. It's a powerful symbol, I think, for the process of transformation I've been going through for a long time.

The clown, my teacher says, exists in reference to nothing - no walls, no boundaries of any kind - and no one. He stands, existentially, alone. Everything - every possible space, thought, relationship - is pure potential. And then ... And then, from this nothingness, he conjures something. He moves his body or his eyes, he makes a face - and suddenly he is in the world and in relationship to the world. He creates and then inhabits the world.

That's beautiful.

And that's what this process has been headed toward for me. Creating and inhabiting the world without taking my cues from anywhere, anyone else.

Wow.

The Void: Revisited

Really, this is such an interesting phenomenon. The same thoughts happen each time I click into my in-boxes - all three of them - and see that they are empty:

Loser. Lazy. You have nothing to do. Nobody needs/wants you. Etcetera.

If there is any clearer indication of the work/identity knot that was tied for me - by my folks' example - in my childhood and which I've spent many years tightening, I'd certainly like to see it.

I can learn something by reflecting on the opposite experience:

I see a ton of messages in my in-box and, just beneath the surface - represented by the thought that I have so much to do and isn't email and evil medium that invites arbitrary and meaningless communication between people, who, let's face it, are just keeping tabs on each other for when they need something - I have the sense that I am busy, wanted, needed, fulfilled.

And when the shit hits the fan - when I reach my limit - I know that I will be able to martyr myself on the craziness of my life, as represented by the presence of 8000 emails in my in-box.

It's a lie. More or less. Because insofar as I created the conditions within which I could become a martyr, I know that I have failed the most authentic version of myself. And that, to me, is dishonest. Period.

What a story. And right now, when I open my in-box, I experience The Void. It feels icky. The Void, here, is the reality that I am responsible to act, to do something with my life, made up of this moment, and this one, and this one. I can do it or not do it. My choice.

To the degree that I present myself to others as "busy, busy, busy" - which is how most people, I find, respond to the question "How are you?" (including me) - I abdicate responsibility for my own life, I communicate the message that my life is not under my control.

What's true, what's actually happening with my in-box is this: A message comes in and I make it a point to respond immediately, then delete it. The ball is in their court. If it's a plan I'm dealing with, I write it down on a calendar. If a message contains something that necessitates action, I write it on a to-do list.

In this way, there is no written or visual record of my commitments to others, my relationships, my plans, my creativity, my goings-on. My only currency is action.

No wonder it's anxiety inducing. I'm staring into a kind of void. I have nothing to show to anyone. It's all show and no tell. And by doing this, I'm acting in accordance with my own deep understanding of what it means to be responsible and authentic.

So there.

The Void

I feel nervous when my in-box is empty. And I know why. It's because it makes me feel like nothing is going on, no one is relying on me for anything or demanding anything from me. And then I think: Isn't that the kind of things people say when they talk about weekends or vacations? And isn't that good?

Oh, the funny traps we create for ourselves.

I'm going to empty it again.

I am not not blogging. Exciting stuff happening on the private practice front. Great conversations. Lots of enthusiasm. Buy in from my father. That's huge. More to come.

The Bad Back and The Good Book

Update on my physical condition: My sciatic nerve thing is better, sort of. It changes. During the day, it's not too bad unless I'm sitting on the ground, which I rarely do, or walking for a long time, which is also rare. I am trying to ice it as much as possible and actually had two changes to do that during the day today, once in a meeting at work (first time I've actually been on my back for an entire meeting) and once for 20 minutes at the chiropractor. During the evening, it's excruciating.

I usually go to bed and it's so-so, then I wake up in the middle of the night, wincing. I have to take a hot shower, douse myself in Ben-Gay, take two Tylenol, then ice it and hope I can fall asleep again. This only happened once last night, so I'm thinking I'm on the mend.

The strain in my neck from Tuesday night was better most of the day. I had the chiropractor work on it, which seemed to help. But, now, it's back to where it was yesterday. I am tired and really want to go to sleep, but icing both injuries is probably the best course of action. Argh. Thankfully tomorrow is Friday.

Although, I have created coaching work for myself this weekend. This is wonderful, but I don't know that I'm going to be as prepared as I would like because I've not had a lot of focused time to work on particulars of these meetings.

What more?

My theater class ended tonight, but it's going to pick up again with the same crew of people in a couple of weeks. That's very good news. I'm really enjoying working with these folks. It's so refreshing, too, because it's mostly physical, non-verbal work that we're doing, there isn't a great emphasis on small talk with one another and, as a result, I feel like there is far less ego in the room than their might otherwise be. I have been meaning to post more about the content of these classes, because there are direct and pretty exciting parallels I can make between the content of this class and the rest of my life. I feel like it's my entire life distilled into a physical form - the body - and a finite period of time, three hours 2 night per week. It makes life tangible. I love it. Certainly much more to say on that. The important thing tonight was just to get some words out.

A book finally came for me in the mail today. It's called The Body-Speak Manual, and it's by a guy named Samuel Avital, who is a mime trained by Etienne Decroix and who started the Centre du Silence in Boulder, Colorado. I got a book of his a few years ago and really enjoyed his philosophical writing about the art of silence. I found it incredibly profound and, well, true. From his work as a mime and as a teacher, he developed a method of developing "kinesthetic intelligence." It's all about being present in your body in order to experience life more fully.

Pretty simple, actually. And yet SO incredibly rare. I'm psyched to dive into it. Maybe I'll start now, while I'm icing my back.

Robot Boy

Every couple of months, I spend about five days walking around like a robot due to pain in my neck and upper back. I can always tell when it's coming and make it worse by bending my neck and back, trying to "work out the kinks."

It's classic, right? Intending to make things better - to bring relief in the short term - I end up making things worse and suffering more and for longer. Not a very good model to live by.

And yet, despite this whole train of thought barreling through my mind last night as I noticed the first early signs of strain, there I was, palm to chin, forcing my head to one side and then the other. Streeeeetch. Ahhhh. Oh, wait. No. Ouch.

Repeat.

It's totally irrational.

And now I am three-quarters robot, sitting here at work, and preventing myself from stretching is almost worse than the pain.

Am I capable of just sitting still all day? That's the question this is presenting me with. Can I just be quiet and still and small? Well, if how I'm reacting is any indication, the answer is no, I am not capable of sitting still all day. Do I have any assurance that the situation would improve if I did make the effort to sit still? No, I don't.

So, then the question is: Do I choose the predictable, painful route - continuing to stretch for that momentary relief, that sense of control? Or do I do what I am fairly certain will not make it worse, but will not necessarily catapault me down the road to relief (it's likely to get worse or stay that same before it gets better)?

This is the conundrum.

Maybe I'll make a different choice today, and stay still and silent. That means remaining mindful of the pain all day, though, and that prospect is exhausting. Typically, for me, too, that means complaining about it to others. Which is boring. So then the charge is to be still, quiet, silent and humble - not trying to rein anyone else into my little drama.

And all of this because I favor sleeping on my stomach with my neck turned, which causes the strain, which leads me down this path.

Indeed, it's all interconnected.

Off to work!