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[fflo]

The week's getting away from me. My home and work "when-it-is-in-the-week" clocks are both head-scratchily confused. And I don't think it's just having had Monday off. I buy that it's Thursday, but I'd buy that it's Tuesday or Monday or Friday, too, should it be told me by a straight-faced usually-reliable source. I don't think I'd think it was Wednesday, at least. Or Saturday or Sunday.

I'm also confused about how next to try to communicate with H., and am putting off deciding (even though there's an odd sense of urgency underlying that business, too). It's not clear (big surprise) whether she's expecting me to call, given the last message from her and circumstances surrounding it. I should probably feel good that I've been more successful than usual in not torturing myself about what she might or might not be thinking/wanting/expecting, but I'm torturing myself plenty with other thoughts of the situation (some days more than others), and even a little bit about "what if she thinks I'm not returning her call"---so no patting of self on back is merited.

Here's a common self-torture thought, e.g.: pretty pitiful not just to be over that whole thing by now, isn't it?

Comments

[sprig5.livejournal.com]

I feel the same way about not knowing what day it is. I always feel the week seems longer if you have a day off in the beginning of it, strangely enough.

Here are two cool passages from Pema Chodron's book "Start Where You Are":

We could all just lighten up. Regard all dharmas as dreams. With our minds we make a big deal out of ourselves, out of our pain, and out of our problems.

If someone instructed you to catch the beginning, middle, and end of every thought, you'd find they don't seem to have a beginning, middle, and end. They definitely are there. You're talking to yourself, you're creating your whole identity, your whole world, your whole sense of problem, your whole sense of contentment, with this continual stream of thought. But if you really try to find thoughts, they're always changing. As the slogan says, each situation and even each word and thought and emotion is passing memory. It's like trying to see when water turns into steam. You can never find that precise moment. You know there's water, because you can drink it and make it into soup and wash in it, and you know there's steam, but you can't see precisely when one changes into the other. Everything is like that. Have you ever been caught in the heavy-duty scenario of feeling defeated and hurt, and then somehow, for no particular reason, you just drop it? It just goes, and you wonder why you made "much ado about nothing."

....

The armor we erect around our soft hearts causes a lot of misery. But don't be deceived, it's very trans[arent. The more vivid it gets, the more clearly you see it, the more you realize that this shield--this cocoon--is just made up of thoughts that we churn out and regard as solid. The shield is not made out of iron. The armor is not made out of metal. In fact, it's made out of passing memory...[she goes on to talk about gently labeling your thoughts as thoughts as they occur and moving on...rather than letting them become "monolithic"].

[groovesinorbit]

Very zen-ish. Nice. Ooh, there's a thought. *points*

[fflo.livejournal.com]

Wow. I'll have to read that when I'm not at the office. Is Pema that nun whose book you sent?