Class starts tonight.  I don't know if I mentioned it before but I'm addicted to college courses.  Ok...maybe that's not exactly true.  Obsession is probably a better word.  Habit gone wild.  My class tonight is Communication Theory.

Theory.  That's the perfect word for it really.  Do any of us really have communication mastered?  Even those who I feel are closest to me interpret what we each read and hear differently...and these are people I know very well.  How can I ever hope to understand and be understood by people I'm just getting to know?  Even here...I write, but is what I'm saying what you're getting?  Often...you're getting more than I'm giving.  That's an amazing thing.

People aren't all that great at this communication stuff...but horses...they've got it mastered.  A shift in weight, ears pinned back, head lowered and hind foot lifted and inch or two off the ground...well somebody is about to get kicked or bitten, depending upon your proximity.  But if ears are pricked forward, eyes are bright and curious, nose stretched toward you softly blowing...that horse has taken a liking to you and is wondering what you might have for him.  Apple perhaps?

Horses don't need words to let you...or their herd mates...know exactly what's going on with them.  There is little ambiguity once you know the body language.  We humans on the other hand lean so heavily on words.  Body language is often ignored or discounted.  Words carry more weight.

Why?

Sometimes we don't want to see the truth.  Sometimes we'd rather filter our interpretation towards what we want to believe because seeing the real truth hurts.  Or it could mean making a difficult decision or embarking on a change that we feel sorely unprepared for.  Words make it easy to pretend.

Evolution is a great teacher.  Horses fine tuned their observation skills to survive.  Prey animals kind of have to do that.  We've had the luxury of languishing in habits that may not serve us but most of the time don't actually kill us.

Why is it so hard to take in the whole message?  Why is it so hard to speak our own truths?  Why do we hide from one another?

Apples for the teacher.

WS

There's an old Tom Petty tune that starts out "It didn't feel like Sunday, didn't feel like June".
-Tom Petty, Hard Promises, "Somthing Big"

Brilliant use of language to create a setting and a mood...in less than 10 words.  You know it is indeed a Sunday in June, but you also get a sense that nothing feels as it should, there's something just not right.

It doesn't feel like August.

What's life supposed to feel like?  Sometimes I'm flooded with enthusiasm.  I don't surf, but I imagine that's how it feels...riding a wave.  Caught up in the sensation that I know where the hell I'm going and all my prior confusion and struggles were designed to prepare me for THIS moment.  Woo-hoo!

Then it fades,  Life resumes a more normal pace and I'm standing on the beach reminiscing about how great that felt.

Now what?

I've spent a whole lot of this life overcoming things.  Painful, confusing, terribly unkind things.  There's comfort in triumph, in healing and in finding some solace in what has transpired.  There is even more comfort in encouraging others as they make their way through their own version of "The Inferno".

But when the "overcoming"part is over, when does the steady, secure, peaceful, blissful, comical part happen?  When do you get to just be content to fall asleep next to someone who thinks you're a goofy goober...and finds that terribly attractive?

Achievement is all well and good.  Setting a good example, giving back to the community, being a kind, compassionate person.  All marvelous.

Then what?

Hard Promises is the name of the CD.  The song is "Insider".

It's a circle of deception
It's a hall of strangers
It's a cage without a key
You can feel the danger
And I'm the one who oughta know
I'm the one you couldn't trust
I'm the lonely silent one
I'm the one left in the dust

I'm an insider, I been burned by the fire
And I've had to live with some hard promises
I've crawled through the briars -- I'm an insider

Yep...been there.

Melancholy days come and go.  For my friend who is having one of those days, I'm here.  I've been there.  I'll be here beside you while you find your way out.  I'll hold the lantern so you don't get lost in the dark.

I'm an insider.

WS

If I understand the origin of the word correctly, the doldrums are a place in the ocean where the winds and the sea are so still and lacking in energy that a sailing ship could get stuck there for weeks on end because there was no momentum, no movement.  Metaphorically, it is a place between stormy, tumultuous seas where you are batted about against your will, and "smooth sailing" where the currents and the winds seem to be on your side and keep you moving swiftly in the direction of your choosing.

I am also reminded of a card in the tarot deck called "The Hanged Man".  It is an image of a man hanging upside-down, suspended by one foot.  He appears not to be struggling while in this uncomfortable pose...and actually wears a rather peaceful expression.  The meaning of the card varies, of course, in the context of the rest of the reading, but the general feeling of the card is a peaceful acceptance of being suspended between places, an involuntary stopping point on the journey where there is nothing that can be done but contemplation.

Think about music.  The most powerful place in a piece of music is the place where, after a string of sounds, there is a break, a pause for a moment.  The resonance of what you've just heard spreads across your head like waves coming to rest on the beach as you fully absorb and appreciate it.  As the sound fades, anticipation builds for whatever sound you'll hear next.  Like the next breath, the next kiss.

Sometimes being stuck in the middle feels so uncomfortable you just want to get out of it as quickly as you can.  You want to get past something or move on to something else.  But stay there for a little while.  Let where you've been catch up with you.  Consider for a moment where you'd really like to go.  An upside-down perspective might be just what you need to inspire you to try something daring...or not. 

Stop and hang out for awhile,

WS

Feeling lost today...

Become the sky
Take an axe to the prison wall
Escape
Walk out like someone suddenly born into color.
-Rumi (Excerpt from Awake in the Wild by Mark Coleman)

Lately I've been listening to an old Matchbox 20 cd, "Mad Season".  (Indicative?)  There is a line in one of the songs that has been riding around in my head with me.

"Technicolor dreams of black and white people."

What does it mean to be "black and white people"?  Is this what Rumi was speaking of in his poetry?  Is living in black and white like being in prison?  Am I living only in shades of gray rather than experiencing the "full color" life I could be living?  Could I transition to high def?

Reminds me of the Wizard of Oz when the house lands with a bump and Dorothy walks gingerly to the door, opens it, and there outside is a new world full of vibrance.  I'm surprised she didn't shut the door and crawl back into that bed.  I thinks that's what I might have done...because I've done that in my own life.  I'll stick with drab and safe, thank you very much.

But I'm too old for that now.  Well...ok...maybe it's not an age thing...maybe it's that I'm sick of hiding from that world out there.  I'm sick of being afraid that I might get hurt out there.  Maybe getting hurt (again) would be ok because maybe the joy would be worth it.

When I was younger I rode horses.  Sometimes I rode them really fast.  Fell off a time or two (more like a hundred).  Cuts, scrapes, bruises, bite marks, hoof prints on my foot (horses sometimes like to step on you...just for fun) and more sore muscles than I care to think about.  But riding out in an open field as the sun is just coming up, listening to the birds wake up and feeling the still cool dew in the air is an experience that I could never get enough of.  Those moments were worth whatever pain I experienced.  Back then I wasn't afraid of being hurt because I knew I'd bounce back.

When did I stop believing in bouncing back?

I have been presented with an opportunity...a chance...to bring new color to my life.  I don't know how it will turn out.  I can't construct a fail-safe action plan.  That's something we learn as adults that truthfully boogers up everything.  Action plans...harumphhhh.  [That was an eye-roll and snort of derision.]

My only chance to step out into that technicolor land of Oz is surrender.  Not in the "stick your hands up in the air and come quietly" kind of surrender.  Rather the kind that is a shift away from having to maintain a sense of control over the outcome.  This kind of surrender is nothing more, nothing less than willingness.  I am willing to be present.  I am willing to be brave.  I am willing to open a space in my heart and I am willing to try this on for size.  I am willing to be curious.  That's the best part of all.

High def baby...

WS

I was doing chores last night.  Laundry, dishes, the usual.  Often when I'm home by myself I'll have the TV on just so the place isn't so quiet.  Last night it was the History Channel.  (Seriously...don't you just love that channel?)  I was only half listening while standing over my kitchen sink but I was mesmerized by some of the images.  They were talking about crop circles.  I found that I didn't really care beans about all the theories of how they get there.  It makes my head hurt to think about it.  I was just captured by the beauty.

How cool would it be if we stopped asking how they get there?  What if the farmer who walks out into his field in the morning would just say "wow...crop circle...awesome" and leave it at that?  What if we saw them as unexplainable gifts and just received them with joy and gratitude?

Perhaps there are things in life that we should stop trying to figure out.  Maybe beating to death (and arguing over) the whys and the hows isn't really serving us.  Maybe we should remember how it felt when we were 5 years old.  I'm pretty sure a 5 year old wouldn't worry about whether it was an alien or a hoaxer that made that fascinating geometric masterpiece in the yard.  I'm pretty sure that kid would just run around its borders and lay down on the flat spots and jump around and probably make some gleeful squealing noise.

I want to jump around and make gleeful squealing noises again.

There are things in my life that I'm going to quit trying to figure out...beautiful gifts that fall out of the sky and change everything.  I'm going to quit trying to figure out if the gifts are the product of a cool alien or a hoaxer. Doesn't matter.  All that matters is that I fully receive and appreciate them.

Take a moment today to look for inexplicable beauty.  You'll make an alien's day.

WS