Seeds and Eggs.

I met up with a friend today for coffee and conversation, and after cake the conversation turned to gardening. We had been discussing my recent experiences, and my frustration at not being able to know where I'm going or what I can do to make the pain and confusion go away. As an analogy for life, she explained that all growth in life needs to be organic. You can't force anything to happen, she said. You can only plant the seeds, give them what they need, and wait for growth to occur.

What if the seeds don't grow? I asked.

That's why you plant lots of different kinds of seeds, she responded. Because some of them won't grow. You plant them anyway and wait to see which ones do.

After coffee we went to her house. She let me pick some arugula from her garden and gave me some eggs from her chickens. As I looked down at the eggs she handed me, I noticed that they were different shapes - some were more round and one of them was tall and thin. And one of them was actually green! There were two brown ones of different shades and an off-white one, too.

Do they taste different? I asked. Not really, she said.

They are shaped differently, they are different colors, and they come from totally different types of chickens, but when it comes down to it, despite their beautiful uniqueness, they are all eggs. And they would all make equally wonderful baby chickens (or delicious omelettes).

I guess I was struck by that because I feel like my life is really throwing me for a loop lately. Everything I was counting on disappeared. I've been waiting for help finding my path, but instead I'm finding out that there is no path. There is only now. And no matter what "now" looks like, life will work out just fine. I will make beautiful baby chickens or a delicious omelette, no matter how different "now" is from the "now" I wanted or expected.

My friend suggested I listen to Pema Chodron, which I find quite fortuitous. I'm trying to be mindful of the present. I'm trying to be accepting of what I feel, and of what is, no matter how painful. I'm trying to be loving of who and where I am, no matter whether I understand or not. I'm trying to be patient, and let life unfold organically without forcing it. It's been difficult, but it's a struggle worth facing.

Collin and I made a tentative peace, thankfully. I am glad that he will be back in my life, but I'm having a difficult time accepting that our relationship will be different from what I expected, and at this point, very different from what I would have preferred. Our relationship is the green egg in my life right now. When it comes down to it, it's not the egg I expected, but it's just as good in the end.

I also told my landlord I'm staying in the apartment. I was going to move anyway, but the fact is, my apartment is cheap, and moving sucks. Either I'll get a low-paying job and be thankful to not have to pay higher rent (not to mention utilities hook-up charges), or I'll get a decent-paying job and be able to pay off some of that pesky debt! There's no need to spend hundreds of dollars I don't have to spend. I don't know which egg that is. The cheap one I guess.

The smart one. :-)

Taking My Tonglen.

If the journey is the destination, then I am in a pretty sad place right now. These are the moments when I hope that I will be able to end up somewhere else, because being present hurts.

Pema Chodron explains the tonglen practice in the following way:

In particular, to care about other people who are fearful, angry, jealous, overpowered by addictions of all kinds, arrogant, proud, miserly, selfish, mean —you name it— to have compassion and to care for these people, means not to run from the pain of finding these things in ourselves. In fact, one's whole attitude toward pain can change. Instead of fending it off and hiding from it, one could open one's heart and allow oneself to feel that pain, feel it as something that will soften and purify us and make us far more loving and kind.

I know it's good but it sure does hurt.

_______________________

After some consideration, I am struck by the lack of empathy I have shown in all of this. Of course I am in pain, but I can't begin to think I know what he or anyone feels about it. It *is* painful to realize that I have caused him pain in all of this, too, but I must have compassion for myself as much as for him if I want to come out of this more loving and kind, instead of more bitter and sad. It is times like these when it is so difficult to see outside one's own experience, but I think times like these it is probably all the more important.