Posts Tagged ‘identity’
Poem – The Awakening
I came across this poem while travelling the intertubes today and, after a bunch of searching about the place, I have realised that a) it’s not the original version and b) the women who wrote it, Sonny Carroll, has, in the last 10 years or so, had various domain names which she has allowed to lapse and remains reasonably googlically mysterious – aside from writing some very nice poetry that seems to have been treated like the recipe for beer (I love what you have done here, but I think my version is better).
In the spirit of partially continuing this tradition, I will post this without permission while seeking the same. Ms. Carroll, if you are still out there, can I please put this up here? I assume you wrote it originally and, for what it’s worth, it’s a beautiful description of something many of us might come to experience.
The Awakening – (by Sonny Carroll)
A time comes in your life when you finally get it…when, in the midst of all your fears and insanity, you stop dead in your tracks and somewhere the voice inside your head cries out…ENOUGH! Enough fighting and crying and blaming and struggling to hold on.
Then, like a child quieting down after a tantrum, you blink back your tears and begin to look at the world through new eyes.
This is your awakening.
You realize it’s time to stop hoping and waiting for something to change, or for happiness, safety and security to magically appear over the next horizon. You realize that in the real world there aren’t always fairy tale endings, and that any guarantee of “happily ever after” must begin with you… and in the process a sense of serenity is born of acceptance.
You awaken to the fact that you are not perfect and that not everyone will always love, appreciate or approve of who or what you are… and that’s OK. They are entitled to their own views and opinions.
You learn the importance of loving and championing yourself… and in the process a sense of new found confidence is born of self-approval. You stop complaining and blaming other people for the things they did to you – or didn’t do for you – and you learn that the only thing you can really count on is the unexpected.
You learn that people don’t always say what they mean or mean what they say and that not everyone will always be there for you and that everything isn’t always about you.
So, you learn to stand on your own and to take care of yourself… and in the process a sense of safety and security is born of self-reliance.
You stop judging and pointing fingers and you begin to accept people as they are and to overlook their shortcomings and human frailties… and in the process a sense of peace and contentment is born of forgiveness.
You learn to open up to new worlds and different points of view. You begin reassessing and redefining who you are and what you really stand for.
You learn the difference between wanting and needing and you begin to discard the doctrines and values you’ve outgrown, or should never have bought into to begin with.
You learn that there is power and glory in creating and contributing and you stop maneuvering through life merely as a “consumer” looking for your next fix.
You learn that principles such as honesty and integrity are not the outdated ideals of a bygone era, but the mortar that holds together the foundation upon which you must build a life.
You learn that you don’t know everything, it’s not your job to save the world and that you can’t teach a pig to sing. You learn that the only cross to bear is the one you choose to carry and that martyrs get burned at the stake.
Then you learn about love. You learn to look at relationships as they really are and not as you would have them be. You learn that alone does not mean lonely.
You stop trying to control people, situations and outcomes. You learn to distinguish between guilt and responsibility and the importance of setting boundaries and learning to say NO.
You also stop working so hard at putting your feelings aside, smoothing things over and ignoring your needs.
You learn that your body really is your temple. You begin to care for it and treat it with respect. You begin to eat a balanced diet, drink more water, and take more time to exercise.
You learn that being tired fuels doubt, fear, and uncertainty and so you take more time to rest. And, just as food fuels the body, laughter fuels our soul. So you take more time to laugh and to play.
You learn that, for the most part, you get in life what you believe you deserve, and that much of life truly is a self-fulfilling prophecy.
You learn that anything worth achieving is worth working for and that wishing for something to happen is different than working toward making it happen.
More importantly, you learn that in order to achieve success you need direction, discipline and perseverance. You also learn that no one can do it all alone, and that it’s OK to risk asking for help.
You learn the only thing you must truly fear is fear itself. You learn to step right into and through your fears because you know that whatever happens you can handle it and to give in to fear is to give away the right to live life on your own terms.
You learn to fight for your life and not to squander it living under a cloud of impending doom.
You learn that life isn’t always fair, you don’t always get what you think you deserve and that sometimes bad things happen to unsuspecting, good people… and you learn not to always take it personally.
You learn that nobody’s punishing you and everything isn’t always somebody’s fault. It’s just life happening. You learn to admit when you are wrong and to build bridges instead of walls.
You learn that negative feelings such as anger, envy and resentment must be understood and redirected or they will suffocate the life out of you and poison the universe that surrounds you.
You learn to be thankful and to take comfort in many of the simple things we take for granted, things that millions of people upon the earth can only dream about: a full refrigerator, clean running water, a soft warm bed, a long hot shower.
Then, you begin to take responsibility for yourself by yourself and you make yourself a promise to never betray yourself and to never, ever settle for less than your heart’s desire.
You make it a point to keep smiling, to keep trusting, and to stay open to every wonderful possibility.
You hang a wind chime outside your window so you can listen to the wind.
Finally, with courage in your heart, you take a stand, you take a deep breath, and you begin to design the life you want to live as best you can.
I found it here, but it’s also here, there and everywhere.
What does it mean to Live Consciously?
For me; to Live Consciously is to act in a way that is in line with who I am and what I wish to accomplish. It’s a self-realisation that what I do now is non-repeatable and is, therefore, to be treated as a single chance to perform an action that will ultimately lead to the results I want. Everything I do cannot be un-done. There is no “do-over”.
How does that effect my daily life?
For the rest of my life, each day will be the same length of time (24hrs). My experience of time is finite. I am going to die sometime. That means every time I do something I didn’t mean to do, that needs fixing up or smoothing over, I am losing time. If I had thought about it first, I could have adjusted my action(s) in such a way as to reduce or avoid having to clean up afterward. Then I would give me more time to do what I want.
So how do you do it?
I been going down this path for a little while and it recently dawned on me that the way to Live Consciously is to practise Living Consciously. I’m gradually replacing the habit of un-conscious living with a more constructive and useful one. There are moments when I sit firmly astride the two though:
Do I really need to have this argument? Am I willing to spend that extra time making up afterwards? Does it really matter if the paper is that shade of blue? Is that really what the argument is about? Or have I just been ignoring her this whole time? Are those shoes new? Was I supposed to say something? Is that what this is all about?
Ultimately there is only forward.
So mean what you do, and do what you mean.
Image by TheAlieness GiselaGiardino²³ (Flickr).
I have always found it difficult to define who I am . When I was younger I did athletics, quite a lot in fact, almost fourteen years worth. I was good too. I got to state level and did all the things associated with that like training six days a week and changing my diet. Despite all of this I never once regarded myself as an athlete, rather when people asked me what I did I told them I did athletics.
After I quit athletics I then began learning how to dance, sing and act. I trained and practised a lot and excelled in all areas. I qualified as a dance teacher, completed university level studies and was even accepted into an international school for performing arts, but again I would not let myself be defined as a dancer, singer, actor or even as a performer. What was I?
Why do I have so much trouble defining myself? Is it fear of being labelled in a stereotypical way? Am I scared of losing something if I conform to a definition?
When I first found out I was pregnant, Ben said I would make a good mother. Another title, and I hate to admit it but I did once again shy away from being defined. When i think of mothers I think of women who smile a lot, bake cakes and basically give up their individuality to be defined by their children, “I’m little Timmy’s mum.” I didn’t and still don’t want to be defined that way, but I do still want to be a mother.
In reality I am all of these things. I am an athlete, I am a dancer, I am a singer, I am (going to be) a mother. Having a title, if you believe in titles, doesn’t limit you to be only the stereotype of that definition. You can break the mould and create a definition of your own. You can be an athlete and still be good at maths. You can be a dancer and not a bitch. You can be a singer and not be plain. You can be a mother and still have a life of your own. Defining yourself doesn’t mean limiting yourself. It opens you up to the opportunity to explore the limits of your definition and realise that there are none.
What a liberating thought! To be free to be the person you want to be without the limitation of a label.
Ask yourself “Who am I?” How can you even begin to define that? Even a simple question doesn’t seem to have a simple answer:
1. I am Emma- This is the label most people define themselves with, this is just a name assigned to us. As meaningless to us in terms of what we are and what we constitute as a bar code is on a grocery item.
2. I am me- What is me? This is just another definition, a shortened and simpler version of the name label. Look beyond the “me” and what really constitutes these two simple words? Every memory, every thought, every action ever performed by you is what creates you. You can never begin to define “me” without reliving the entirity of your life.
3. I am what I am- First of all, way to go stealing the word of God to define yourself, but even he didn’t get to the heart of it. When the burning bush stood before Moses and spoke those words “I am what I am” Moses was still required to look at every building block which when all put together still didn’t create what God was. The same is true with us. We can have all the pieces but never see or show the whole picture.
4. I am a singing, dancing, athletic mother- yes I am, but then I am so much more too.
I guess what I am trying to say is that I have never felt the need to define myself and I still don’t. What I am goes beyond anything I could summarise into one word, one label. I choose to not define myself into a label, but finally feel that I can be those labels too. While I was afraid to be labelled a mother I embrace what it is and what it stands for but then I am more than just that label.
Image by 1LB (flickr)
I have been feeling guilty the last few weeks for not taking the time to sit down and actually write on this blog. Don’t get me wrong I love writing on here. It is a great opportunity for me to get a lot of my thoughts out of my head and out into the world, even if the majority of those thoughts just seem to be “Damn! I am getting bigger and bigger!”. What I have been feeling guilty about is the fact that I have allowed other parts of my life to take over to such an extent that things, like writing, have become casualties to a hectic lifestyle.
I don’t like the idea of losing my identity to something I really don’t want to. A prime example of this is work. I have just started a new job. The hours are longer and it’s shift work so my body clock is getting all kinds of screwed up. I have felt though, especially last week when I was on grave shift, that my life was work. I slept, I woke up, I had breakfast, I went to work, I had dinner, I went back to sleep and then repeated it all over again.
I don’t want my life to be like that. I want time for myself to do the things I want to do, like spend time with Ben, go shopping, cook a healthy dinner, clean my room or relax and read a book.
I guess this has put into perspective what I don’t want to happen when the baby comes. I don’t want to lose my identity and be defined by my child. I know that to an extent that it is inevitable but where is the rule that says once the child is born I no longer exist? The truth is it doesn’t exist it is just a lie that people like perpetrating and with vigour in some people’s cases. Going back to announcing the baby these were the people who were telling me my life is now over now that I am having a baby. Over? No way! It is just getting interesting.
It’s about finding balance. The plan now is to find that balance again so I can have some sort of idea of how to re-find it after T-Rex is born. I want this baby to have balanced parents who have time to do the things they want to do, because without that balance then I really am turning into a crazy old lady who would be better getting some cats than attempting to raise a child.
Image by span (Flickr)
