It was a beautiful day in Jefferson, Colorado today. We arrived down in the valley to continue working on the strawbale house at about 7:15 am, about our usual time. The sun was up and warming the cold night air, and eventually it was warm enough to take off my outer-layer sweatshirt and just work away in my brown, familiar wool sweater. By noon some clouds had filled the sky, and a large black one eventually came to hang over our worksite. The wind picked up, but it never rained fully on us. Beautiful layers of storm clouds passed just south, and we could see them blow across the open plains and over the Continental Divide, dumping rain and obscuring the snow-topped peaks in a steely mist. Lightning bolts sporadically came down on the horizon, cutting cool white lines against the gray and leaving no audible thunder behind. It was a great day to stand on the edge of the roof and look out at intense, dynamic nature and wonder what my place is in the world. It got cold again, so I wrapped up in my sweatshirt and kept on swinging my hammer.
These past few weeks I've really felt like I'm beginning to let layers of my "self" or identity fall away slowly. It's fun to let go of aspects of ourselves that we so strongly identify with - a career, a routine, a habit, an addiction, a worldview, whatever. In doing so, we can listen to ourselves better and hear more in the world around us. We can move beyond thinking that we know, or that we have it all figured out, and approach life with more questions and an open mind.
I think of my stepmother who left a long and developed career as a surgeon to develop a new life performing music, first just on flute and now on a variety of instruments. How scary it must have been to leave an established path (even ones which we don't like) and strike out in a new direction! It is tough to give up a feeling of security that comes with routine, and try brave new things.
This is the same as when we let go of old ideas about who we are. What if we are not an athlete, funny, pleasing, easy-going, or a know-it-all? It's scary to think that we might be ignorant about much of the world around us, or that we really do care about our ecosystem enough to make our footprint on the world lighter. What if we're musically talented and like performing? What if we don't like our job but love teaching? What if our passion is to open an alpaca ranch and apiary in rural Montana? That's some scary stuff :-)
It's fun and terrifying to roll with what emerges in ourselves. I'm trying to roll with not knowing about the future, with not knowing what continues to cause pain in my knee, with really wanting to learn to play guitar, with seriously considering becoming a tai chi teacher, with wondering if I want to live in Palo Alto, or anywhere in the Bay Area, or in California at all. I'm trying to smile as often as I can, and let go of taking myself and my life so seriously.
What are you going to explore today? What do you really want to do before you die, or before you go to bed? Sign up for the pottery class, dig out the sketchbook, dust off the chess set, stay home on a Friday night to read, tell the barrista at your local independent coffee shop that she's cute, cook something you've never tried, give up refined sugar for a week, buy a bike. Tell that person you love them, go ahead... now that's scary, but so good.
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