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Published: August 15th 2011
Being back in the work makes me always want to be in the work, and it motivates me to call it something other than “work.” Maybe this is an indicator. In Hakomi, we use the word indicator to refer to something on the surface that may indicate an underlying belief. I certainly have beliefs centered around work. Whether it is an indicator, it is certainly an edge that I am “sitting with or holding." A good friend and I got talking at one time that at its’ core, when work is really the work, it doesn’t feel like work. But what I believe about work is really different, I can feel it…it makes me curious. According to Merriam-Webster dictionary:
“Activity in which one exerts strength or faculties to do or perform something”
“Sustained physical or mental effort to overcome obstacles and achieve an objective or result”
“Work = Force (X) Distance”
“Work ethic is a set of values based on hard work and diligence. It is also a belief in the moral benefit of work and its ability to enhance character”
“I starting thinking about why so many people devote so much of their lives to
work, and seem to get so little enjoyment or reward in return. “
I don’t believe that we always take heart what the dictionary says, or what physics, or science taught us as children, or even what our religion suggests about work…but there are an awful lot of ideas floating around in regards to the nature of work…and many of these ideas seem to suggest something about work. Without thinking too much about it, from these statements it sounds like work is difficult full or effort, and hard. I think somewhere in me there are some old beliefs about work that also evoke this response, almost as if anticipating a struggle, difficulty, or dread.
I really like connecting with the idea that great movements are effortless. And I’d like to conjure more experience and ideas centered in work being spacious, more about non-doing than making happen. I think of children playing who accomplish great things, giant leaps without trying or thinking of things. A stick can be the same as a sand castle…they have meaning, each evoke curiosity, have a purpose.
Where do we lose this ease of being? Where does our natural curious mind go off
to? I’m not even so interested in trying to answer the question, or end the mystery as I am to make space for these questions to keep arising so I may continue to explore. Maybe this is why I enjoy being here, writing in the reflective voice, almost as if it is a sacred space where mystery is still allowed, and whether or not the questions need to be answered are left up to anyone who may be reading this... but I rejoice in not having to be the one to make it happen.
Becoming more curious about self reflection and the reflective writing voice could be an indicator to explore too..... that there is a part of me that seeks to make sense of some part of the world, and that somewhere, some little voice or being inside of me is compelled to write and to name things…to make a world that feels just right to me. How much can I gently see what this is, and how this has served me, and continues to serve. How deep can the discovery go to really see, without striving....what this writing serves for me, and the pictures too. Ones that
capture and communicate something about place or perspective, ones often empty or almost empty. Again, I don’t really need to know, but I am curious.
I think about imaginary worlds. I’ve spent a lot of time here, so much time that in some way it has become real and its’ served me. I’ve survived here, something has continued to live, an active inner voice, place, sense of space time, and humor. So, some part of my experience of the world at some time made it necessary for me to be here and learn how to navigate invisible worlds. Space has been a long time friend. Its’ not that I seek to abolish this lush place, get rid of, or even diminish this reflective familiar world, it's more that I am interested in being just as stable, strong, and embodied in form as I am here. To find a place where voice and body combine to round out a full being in the world….words and thought can no longer be the escape route from an embodied life.
I am really ready for this, and I am scared as each drop becomes more real. I’d like to live more present
-full of guts and mistakes, and spontaneity, be real and accessible in the moment and have consciousness around when I can move into the imaginary world to serve me, to restore me. I want both. For the imaginary world not to be the only place where I feel comfortable - I see a time where ease will pervade all realities, even the ones that are difficult.
I have trust that this poem I written for myself to live in, this spacious reflection will not go away. I who write, am the voice that has kept company for myself since being young, like a wise navigator. Now, I am no longer the only one who is real to experience the moment. The voice right now who is writing this, and keeps things making sense, holding it together, and narrarating is okay with not being the manager of this my total experience anymore. I think one thing in Hakomi that is gently explored without getting too much into hanging onto them, is that we all have different parts, voices, and ways that show up and serve us for some time. Some of these are so strong that we don’t even recognize
that we don’t have the conscious choice to conjure them. This voice, this spacious large view picture, who encourages me to step back and see the grand pattern of things has been a good ally. While I am not an enemy of this voice and vision, there is another voice which says, I am here, I am really in the world, and I am ready to come out, so... give me space to be present… man. I imagine if these two voices where to have a conversation it would be very interesting, and I am grateful there is space for these voices to now relate…I’ll spare the dialogue here.
Fear has got to be okay, it is so natural. I think when I chose to be here and fear comes up, nervousness, or consciousness around being agitated, annoyed or even angry, it is a good sign, it means I haven’t escaped into the familiar grand vision vista where everything is a little less real, it means I am here. And if I can choose without thinking to much a little more, each moment whether it serves the moment to be present or it serves the moment to go into this reflection, perhaps there will be a greater allowance to descend further into the visceral “mortification” of common experience, in a complete unreleased primordial way. By the grace of spacious trust I continue to open to a greater potency of life.
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