The last year was pretty much a seemingly endless slew of those sentences for me. Until I realized that I would way rather just live my life and all its moments to their fullest and appreciate them for what they are.
...Not always the easiest thing to do, especially if elements like discomfort or fatigue play a role in the picture.
I finally had my first anatomy exam today- the one that I couldn't WAIT to be finished with. It was a lot harder than I had hoped it would be... and by the time I got home I was so exhausted and unable to process any of my own thoughts and feelings that I wasn't even sure what I wanted to do. I neither felt like celebrating the completion or endurance of the challenge, nor did I feel like feeling bad about how hard it was. I was, and am glad it's over... but I don't want to think that way. I don't want my tests to be these beasts that I can't deal with, I want them to be more like pogo-sticks that I can hop on for a bit and then jump off of.
I had such a numb feeling (probably also from the cold) that I had no clue how to relax. Did I want to read a book.. ehh? Movie... ehh? Music... ehh? Eat... ehh? I didn't have the energy to decide. But then I remembered a lovely thing I used to do when I lived in California. I used to go to this meditation center every Monday, and just sit through dharma talks and some simple meditation. I found a podcast stream of the current dharma talks there and decided to listen to one by Jack Kornfield, who gives talks regularly there.
I decided to listen to a talk about "Being Your Own Light." The title immediately spoke to me. Maybe because that's exactly what I'm trying to do right now. Sometimes it's so hard to remember that there are good things, and that all we need to go is focus on them.
Be A Light Unto Yourself
The title also reminded me of a song we used to sing in school:
Be ye lamps unto yourselves
Be your own confidence
Hold to the truth within yourself
As to the only lamp.
-the Buddha
It's real challenge for me to find my way through this winter. I've never experienced such a gradual change in temperature that directly correlates with my perception of life. It's really not such a big deal on the scale of things --people all over the world deal with winter and its effects ALL the time. I guess it's just a matter of figuring out how to find my way.
In two days is the start of advent, a time that I've always appreciated. I love the warm and cozy feeling that comes from lighting candles and watching their light. Watching a candle flame is a really interesting thing to do.
I experience it as simultaneously seeing the flame dance around the wick, and understanding my own thoughts. It's a way to "come back" into oneself from the hectic lives we lead, and remember that there's an inner life as well, that there's some sort of breathing and focusing on the thoughts and feelings that needs to be done. I love that inner quality about the winter- even if I've never experienced it in the cold.
The archetypal image of winter is bringing or maintaining the light in the midst of darkness. There are countless winter stories about light; covered by most religions, ancient texts and teachings, and modern literature and culture.
At my old school, the children walked what was called the "Advent Spiral." I've watched it countless times, but it never ceases to bring tears to my eyes; it is so beautiful. The audience is arranged in a circle around a dark room, in the center of which is a stand with a candle. From the candle, a path of pine branches spirals outwards to the edge of the circle. A harp plays gentle winter/ Christmas music and a teacher dressed as an angel walks the spiral to light the candle in the center, and back out. Once the first candle has been lit, the children of the kindergarten walk into the spiral one by one, each with their own candle held by an apple. They walk to the center of the spiral, light their candle, and place it along the brine branches. All the children do this in complete silence, save for the playing of the harp, until the whole room has been filled with light. I cry, every time, it's just so beautiful.
It's incredible how much those children can focus on bringing the light from one place to another. It's amazing to watch their peaceful attention and care. These are the same children that scream and jump around on the playground, and take toys from one another, the same children that are easily distracted and diverted from their chores.... it always gives me goosebumps.
Two people that continue to inspire me (even if they're not aware of it) are teachers that I've had. One taught earth sciences, life skills and lead the all-school chorus, and the other was my photography teacher. We always celebrated advent together as a chorus in school, and sang a really beautiful song:
No deep darkness in the world can overcome the light,
if but a single candle-flame is burning bright.
This song makes me think about my photography teacher and the classes we had with her. We made our own pin-hole cameras out of oatmeal boxes in 10th grade. And a photo could arise even with the tiniest leak of light. It's true then, that no matter how much darkness there is, the smallest light can be seen.
That's what we should focus on. The part that's good. So hopefully I can (we all can) reduce my (our) whining about getting things over with, and just appreciate the positive aspects of life.
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