The Awesome Power of a Distracted Mind

Being present and ‘in the moment’ is an elusive white stag worth chasing each day of our lives.

When we are mindful, each step, each breath, each observation we take and make can be a meditation that brings us peace and joy and helps us to make better decisions in our lives. I have certainly found this to be true.

Ergo, until recently, I thought  being in this aware state for as long as possible was the ultimate condition my mind should be in, and something the Dalai Lama probably did sleeping.

As much benefit I have enjoyed from even brief periods in this ‘present’ type of state, I recently had some very telling experience where being mindful proved detrimental, and being ‘thoughtful’, proved almost useless.

The first was driving a manual car after being many years behind the wheels of automatics.

I learnt to drive in a manual, and continued to drive one for the first ten years or so of my driving life so even to this day I remain one of those stubborn (and perhaps forgetful) individuals who insist manual driving is superior.

 My spouse does not share my nostalgia so automatic has been our car choice for years.

Recently returned from travels we are car-less. Some kind friends have given us the temporary use of a vehicle so we can do those sorts of trips you get lazy about doing on foot or bike.
The car happened to be manual and whilst I didn’t quite bunny-hop down the road or stall at the lights, you might say my initial gear changes were enough to warrant neck-braces for my passengers.

 As I drove I tried to focus on smoother gear changes.Being very aware of what I was doing had little effect.

 In the end, I just tried to ignore my husband gripping the dash and just accepted that I would just get better with time and practice. But something interesting happened- when at one point I had the radio on and someone was talking to me, I became aware that I was driving  well with gear changes smooth as you  like. It ended up that a lack of present mindedness (still watching the road of course!) turned out to be a gift: an opportunity for my auto pilot (who had no doubt be hammering away at the door of my mind for a turn all along) knew exactly what to do.

I wasn't thinking about driving but neither was I  being present and aware.

On my second day of car borrowing, I was driving home across ten suburbs struggling to recall the roads I had taken fifteen months before with less traffic. I gave up and figured I could tweak whatever route I chose another time if it proved bad.  It wasn’t until I focussed on driving and listening to music that I came across my old route, bit by bit. I literally found my hand just going to the indicator at the right time. Once again I wasn’t thinking about it and I was certainly not practising mindfulness.

The third experience of this state of mind was returning to my old job. Anything that I had to do that was technical I struggled to recall the order of process. I racked my brain for the details with little success and once again accepted that I would just have to relearn things and be done with it.

 It was not until I was serving customers and chatting, that my fingers automatically touched the keyboard and did what they already knew. If someone would have asked me what keyboard button did what, I couldn't have said, but disengaged, my body knew what it was doing; once again not present, not thinking, but distracted. ‘Muscle memory’ as people call it, saved the day again.

I thought this was an interesting phenomenon. I have always been concerned about mindless living and had accepted that attaining a state of mindfulness was the ultimate way to live.

 Nothing I had read promoted a distracted mind as a good thing. The closest I can think of it being promoted is the common suggestion that if you are struggling with an idea, to go away and do something else and the answer may come to you when you have returned- once again, not mindfulness or focussed thinking, but distraction.

Of course I can see where auto pilot and a lack of presence or thinking can be a bad thing - staying locked in bad habits, continuing to go to terrible jobs or staying in a relationship with a person who hurts us, are all examples.

  There are many examples however that I can give where auto pilot will save your day: when you catch a ball unexpectedly thrown at you, when you knock over a glass and catch it before it spills over, retracing a path you have taken, answering a trivia question with an answer even you were unaware you knew.

As much as I will continue to pursue time each day to be mindful for the sheer peace and joy it brings, and to also spend time thinking and learning for the satisfaction that I experience, I will also give a nod to my inner auto pilot, who I acknowledge now is not a bad entity looking to keep me from evolving, but is just the spark that keeps my body in motion and in one piece.

Whether my mind is on ‘Om’, thinking about a new story plot and checking the fridge for a likely lunch, if my body sees it, auto pilot will do its best to stop that thing from falling on my head and that is a marvellous friend to have on board.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pixelated Vision and Visual Snow

Getting back to practising meditation (no idea why I stopped doing something so beneficial in the first place), I was sitting outdoors recently, looking at all the trees and the blue sky and focussing on my breathing. I became aware of the pixilation of everything that I have seen my whole life.
It's there for the experience whenever I want to bother noticing it- a very, very fine black and white dotting to everything, seen in light or complete darkness.
Until I was a teen , I assumed that's how everyone saw things and in fact never thought to question it until I mentioned something about it to a friend who had no idea what I was talking about. It was weird describing something that I could see without effort to someone that didn't obviously experience the same thing- like trying to explain any sensation you would take as a given to someone who didn't have that sensation. Of course I went around asking others until I did find someone who seemed just as surprised that this way of seeing things wasn't the norm as I was.
Since then, I have come across a few people over the decades who experience this, but obviously it's not something I think on all the time. As I said, if I don't think about it, I don't really notice it.
But yesterday it was on my mind and I thought I might check the internet to see if there was an actual explanation for it.
I found lots of threads- mostly under 'visual snow' and some under 'pixelated vision'.
The 'visual snow' mostly seemed to come under the category of 'suffering from'. Most people were examining their own health and medical history for the cause- mental and physical. Explanation's of MS, migraines, auto immune problems etc etc came up. I have no doubt what some of these people see is something else entirely or something much worse. For some people their impaired sight is debilitating. My eyesight is perfect by the way.
What I felt sad about was the people in between who saw as I do and had been long worried about themselves (though many had had exhaustive medical tests to prove otherwise)feeling there is something wrong with them.
There are scientific explanations out there, proposing that all life appears pixelated, though it would be too small to see, and there are other people who explain it as a 'gift' of sorts in a spiritual sort of sense.
Seeing the world through my eyes as I do does not make me feel special personally, nor does it make me feel abnormal however I do believe in the connectivity of all things.
 As I sat outside looking at everything broken up by the same miniscule pinpricks- flowers, trees, grass, sky, house, me, I couldn't helping thinking it was a wonderful way of being reminded that we are all a part of the universe together and at the most basic level we are made of the same stuff and that there is no obvious beginning or end to anything.
I guess I can choose what I see AND choose how I see that:)

UnDressing Women- Trading Fashion for Freedom

Here are three things that really get my blood pressure spittooning off the dial:

One- having to go anywhere wearing clothing/shoes which are restrictive and/or uncomfortable.

Two- watching an action movie with a woman in it who has to run and kick-ass just like her male counterpart, only she’s wearing high heels and invariably something considered ‘sexy’ (ie, something somewhere is likely to fly out of the wrappings)

Three- watching young women out for the day/evening wearing clothes that are so revealing I can check their vitals visually. Often blue from cold, leaving nothing to the imagination and unable to walk properly due to clothing tightness and ridiculous heel height, what are these young women thinking?

 Perhaps they are going for the ‘wounded deer attracts predator’ look. I’m sure I don’t know.

I do know all of the above says clearly to me that women still have a long way to go for equality if we generally still agree that the above is acceptable.

Here are some things I think we should question wearing, but most of all I want to people thinking about who laid down the rule-book that these things equal being a woman. Femininity should not equal womanliness since feminine is traditionally assiciated with prettiness and delicacy. I'd prefer to think of women as strong and graceful. Lets' aim for beautiful instead:

Pleasing the senses or mind aesthetically.

 

But let the mind and the senses be your own.

 

Bra’s- If your breasts and gravity are in opposition and you feel your novel needs a bookshelf, why go for something nasty? If you wouldn’t squash a kitten into a hamster wheel- why would you put a sensitive part of your anatomy behind bars? Lace or no lace- a jail is a jail.'

 Your ribcage has a right to expand- it’s called breathing. Your blood is MEANT to circulate. Any cleft in cleavage need not be a garage for your chin. If a bra is your choice, get something that lets perspiration (yes, this is allowed) to escape and let your moose as loose in the caboose as possible.

Take bra’s off as soon as is possible (on the bus is probably not yet acceptable) to help with circulation.

 If men got around in little under-wire jock-straps every day and they started to get a lot of testicular cancer, I think we might agree the ‘testierre’ may be contributing to that problem. I feel sad that every day women donate to breast cancer charities whilst wearing strangulating bra’s.

And for goodness sake do not wear a bra to bed. Your mind has a right to wander when you sleep and so too do your breasts.

 

 

Underpants- Where discretion allows I am all for sans undergarment. Clearly this works best in long loose garments with little breeze.

 Outside of that I do not agree that a string plumb-line or anything which travels of its own accord is okay, healthy or comfortable on a woman body. I also have to question the wisdom of putting seams on the inside of a garment which are prone to getting “caught among the briars’. Short satin bloomers are my vote. They make all shaped bottoms look lovely, are very comfortable, allow the breeze in a little and cover all mountains cleanly like a good dusting of polka-dot snow.

 

Shoes- I remember a comedian once describing lesbians as ‘women in comfortable shoes’. I really fail to see why they should be the only straight-spined, bunion-free, extremely smooth-walking women.


 

Wearing very comfortable shoes feels fabulous. If you have a cupboard full of designer shoes, consider yourself a starved creative and go create something useful with your clever eye. Shoe design is an art. There are lots of others ways to make beautiful things.

When I see little girl in high heels I get very sad/livid. Do not visit fashion pain onto your innocent children. Go look at damaged feet and spines on Google images from bad shoes and high heels.

 Look at men’s shoes. Yes, they are made to be comfortable so they can get a days work done or go out and comfortably recreate. My boys will not put up with an uncomfortable shoe, but I have handed a bandaid to many a heel- blistered friend. Ninety percent of bunions are on women’s feet. Nice.

And get shoes off your feet and walk barefoot wherever and wherever you can safely.

Your toes and feet need exercising that will help keep arthritis and the podiatrist away.

Clothing in general- Things that make you sweat, smell, cut into your skin, stop you eating enough, stop you breathing properly, stop you walking or moving your arms properly are doing something akin to taking away your basic human rights. If you went with those complaints to the doctor they would send you to hospital!

 Who told us that it was acceptable to suffer from the above? It is your right to move freely and comfortably, for your skin to breath and blood circulate.

 I think a woman is meant to be strong and graceful. You can do that in an outfit made from half a dozen dish-clothes and a few rubber bands, but if that isn’t you, seek pieces outside of the latest fashion that are made from natural, breathable fabrics and that let you move and breath. This has got to be far more liberating than following the herd into the latest fashion battle.

Someone once said- “A monkey puts on a hat in Paris and everyone follows suit.”

 

If you pause to think about that, it makes fashion seem so incredibly ridiculous.

There are thousands of famous people on the planet who lived amazing lives, none of whom are remembered for what they wore.

 I believe for the majority of them, fashion was a very low priority- they simply had better things to think of and do.

Once again if you love new and high fashion, consider the possibility that you are a really creative person with no huge outlet to focus your talent. Try and redirect that. As with shoes- you could start creating beautiful clothes that serve women better.  

Think for yourself- for your own body. How you like a person should have nothing to do with their  clothes. Surely it's the person inside the clothes that counts? That goes both ways.

 

If you are expressing yourself as a person and living a happy life- how can you fail to be attractive as a woman and as a person. A man who does not like you because of what you wear is suffering from the same fear and prejudices, we are all steered to delude under. If you want to be admired, be admired for your deeds and words, not the clothing on your back. 
 

Getting clothes and shoes that compliment your body in a comfortable way may take longer to find because there is not enough call for it yet unless you are pregnant or a larger sized person.

 

 But the more people search and buy and demand, the more clothes and shoes will be made. If you are clever enough, design and/or make some for the rest of us to buy and enjoy!Use internet search engines for ideas. Think outside the circle.

 

Women should be free to move and live freely. Ask yourself who says that you shouldn’t.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fifty Shades of Grey Matter

Our book store has sold a gazillion copies of the female erotica book 'Fifty Shades of Grey".
 Women come in and buy the first one (often in some embarrassment) and then next day slap the next two on the counter with a grin. Okay it's not for everyone, but I get sick of people moaning about it's lack of literary depth. Uh hello people- EL laughingallthewaytothebank James has obviously tapped into a very important thing here and she wasn't aiming to arouse the Pullitzer judges.
If you think you can do better, please give it a shot because I can tell you you have a very large and very hungry female audience!
 However, when our only male shop assistant greeted an awaited shipment of these books and said "Well, the desperate housewives will be happy", I got really cross and gave it to the poor guy- Why are sexually interested men just men and sexually interested women 'desperate housewives?'
 Dare I say, boredom in the extreme. Obviously we have a very large portion of the population who are well and truly alive and vital and dying for a bit of the hot stuff. A lot of these people must be married. Is this book hitting nerves because many readers are long-time married or long-time single and are bored and lonely?
Let's just say that as I passed a 'juice' stand manned by 20-something gym members yesterday and noticed all the attentive customers were aged about 50, I don't think the ladies were interested in just the fruit being hand-squeezed! Let's get rid of the tags like'desperate housewives' and 'cougar' which try and come across as amusingly self depracating and falsely empowering and have a good hard think about what's going on here.
 Let's move beyond hoping your husbands beer gut shrinks a little and getting by on gratuitous novels only.
Let's aknowledge that we are well and truly bloody alive and set about filling those needs- because it's harder to do naked cartwheels at 80.

I do not wish them to have power over men, but over themselves.  ~Mary Wollstonecraft

I am a Feminist!

The bus to your next chapter always arrives on time I find.

The new destination for me turned out to be feminism and the first leg was a book called 'How to be a Woman' by Caitlin Moran. Absolutely brilliant read. I wish all my learning had me snorting with laughter. Really this book is as much biographical as a discussion on feminism, but whatever you want to file it under, it is really bloody funny. Tre gaffaw.
And so there is my husband on his side of the bed, quietly reading 'A Game of Thrones' and then me on my side, slapping my thigh, tears rolling down my face, stuffing the doona in my gob to muffle my laughter. It is pointless reading him the extra marvellous bits, he just shrugs and looks bemused by my beaming blotchy face.

I probably won't buy a slogan t-shirt, but Caitlin helped me want to be a feminist. Actually, can I say here that I think the word 'feminist' is a little bit wimpy, like a fairy with a lisp. Which is ironic because it's all about empowering. But anyway, it's not that I didn't have views on the state of women, it's just that i was always a bit scared of Germaine Greer and thought if I declared myself a feminist, people would think I was a hairy, angry, argumentative man-hater. And really, I think people found me a little trying already.

Anyway, Now I know more about what a feminist really is, I can pop my name on the list of endorsers and I feel a few more buttons pop off the Coat Of Learnt Restraint. Being in a bookstore is handy because now I am devouring some more related reads. Of course, I have got Germaine Greer and Simone de Beauvoir which I will read with the light on, but right now the two I am reading and which I can highly recommend are "Nice Girls Just Don't Get It' by Lois P Frankel and Carol M Frohlinger and then 'Shattered' by Rebecca Asher.
The "Nice Girls' book is just fantastic for anyone who is afraid to put her full self out there for fear of offending someone (I think we all do this in some degree) and 'Shattered' whose full title includes- 'Modern motherhood and the illusion of equality' is for any parent or parent to be. This book is very much about men too and not in a negative way. It's really about antenatal care, maternity/paternity leave, work practices and relationship dynamics as ruled by the state, employers and the parenting industry.

These books are red pills I choose to take and open my eyes further to what is around me. Once I see clearly what I am wading ankle deep in on a daily basis I am empowered to change things for the better. I am really excited for myself, and I am also proud to be a better example for my children.
I think it is a hard line to walk between fear and equality, but humour really is a great travel companion.

The Slumbering Corpse Awakens

Part of my new tough love regime is 'Morning Pages'. Thought I'd share todays.

It’s ten to six. Obviously in telling you I am going for full sympathy or admiration.
I’ll take either if you fall for it. Truth is I woke up, it seemed light through the chinks in the blind, and the crazy skylight we installed in a retarded moment (it was dark in there that day. Truly.) so I got up because I knew I had to go into work early and it was surely minutes away from the alarm going off.
It wasn’t. It was 5am. Ugh.
So I slap myself in the forehead mentally with a mallet and put the kettle on. Nothing but drinking coffee can make these moments work out okay. And so here I am doing morning pages before even the first zingy young kookaburra can clear its throat.
What to write about? Oh I don’t know. What is there beyond moaning? I have to go to work, blah, blah (I volunteered), I have to go early (I always say I am a morning person), it’s cold (I tell people I hate the heat), I’m tired (because I had a big party), I feel a bit off on the tummy (because I have been eating too much crap), my skin doesn’t look good (see last note), it’s that time of the month (been happening this way for the last 25 years, were you expecting something different this time?) and the pets need feeding (you went out of your way to convince husband you needed them, searched extensively for them, paid big cash for them and have had them for years where they gave you love and devotion for free and ask little in return and don’t complain about often b-grade care, what do you want from these poor creatures exactly?).
So there you have it. Poor me in my nice snug house, having to go have a hot shower in my new bathroom to put on new clothes to drive to work in my new car to work in a bookshop. Life is, obviously hell for me. Boo-hoo.

Search for the Real Isis

Oh my God, I've been playing dress-ups so the world loves me- Urrrgghh.

Sorry everyone, but I'm no longer going to keep up this well-meant blog.

It seems to me, no-one will ever take women seriously or equally, if we're focused on how we look. I've realised when the made-over woman on TV cries with happiness, it's because she now feels worthy- what a false concept. I know some of them are naked- but they've got make-up on, a new hair-do and it's all tastefully photographed.Plus she's being told how beautiful she is. She looks good, she feels good. That's a false concept.

I realise that as long as outward beauty equals self-esteem, our little girls will grow up like many of us did- looks equals attention, favour, popularity, success (love and acceptance).And from the state of how I see many dress, it seems they're crying out even harder than we did. How do you wound a little girl? Tell her she's ugly. Boys don't cop that one.

Sorry to drag you along on my own little journey. Things have been troubling me about all this for a bit and when I answered some questions recently about my priorities , it just all came to a head.
I'm going to search for what it is the be a real woman. For me all I know for now, is it's not being a second class citizen, but it's not being a man either. That leaves a lot of searching in between to be done!
I'm going to try and bypass all I've had shoved into my head over a lifetime and work it out, then aim for that. For me I've realised, no amount of pleasing appearances are going to give real self-esteem and it's certainly not going to leave the planet a better place for our children. Wish me the true gifts of courage and wisdom, and may you all find your true Isis. x