My Ninja Journey Part XIV - "Leaning into the Punch"

 

 If a fist flies straight for your face, what is your first instinct? To duck for dear life? Protect, hide and pull away, far from the punch? I'm learning that in the warrior's ring, if you pull your body away from the propelling power of a punch, you are actually moving deeper into its trajectory, giving it more time to land well. A warrior in the ring learns to abolish all instincts to pull away from the punch. Instead, she pushes her body straight into it. It is only when you lean into your greatest fear that you inch just out of its path, actually too close for impact. One of the greatest lessons I've learned on my journey to ninjahood: The way of the ninja is to head straight for the glove.

Fear is like a chunky, hairy, unshowered samurai with the sharp edge of his sword blocking your path, preventing you from stepping another inch forward. Denying fear only feeds it more power, rather than giving it a simple, "Hey, how the hell are ya? Can I take your coat and sword?" It's like trying to ignore an ex-boyfriend at a party while simultaneously trying to sneak obsessive peaks to see who he's with.

Fear is like the ex in the corner; the more we try to ignore it, stifle it or stuff it away, the more space it consumes in the room. A ninja goes straight to the corner, straight to the core of her fear. What is the worst that can happen? If I do go up to him I might bumble, seem silly and look like I haven't moved on… Okay so he thinks I haven't moved on and have a speech impediment. So then what? I'm thought less of by someone I don't even want to think about anymore?

A valuable ninja lesson I've learned is that metabolizing the absolute worst that can happen is actually a cathartic way to relinquish fear. Tilt into the fear instead of dipping between the ropes, straight out of the ring, because it is only as you continually face all the fists, head for all the dark corners of your fear that the power in them dissolves and you can lay your head down at night knowing no one and nothing owns you. It's been hard, but I'm leaning in and believing. Try it. Embody trust and then live as if no hit could ever keep you down. And you know what? None will.

Until next time...

My Ninja Journey Part XIII - "Kung Fu Falling"

Accidentally peeing in public, falling face-first in the dead center of a party, completely losing your place in a pitch to a new client team because of your jack-hammer stuttering until you give up, fall silent, adopt a catatonic blank stare, turn and walk right out... Episodes like these are evidence that you are in the game. In my quest for ninjahood, I've learned the key to success is not in achieving flawless, fall-less, confident perfection, but in learning how to take chances and navigate the tumbles. We ninjas call it "Kung Fu Falling."

Traditionally, as boys grow up they are encouraged to take risks, try new things, compete in sports, skateboard all night and bleed all over their little skater shorts. They become well-versed in taking tumbles. Girls, on the other hand, are encouraged to value fitting into the group, never standing out and cooperating even if it means diminishing ourselves a little - or a lot. Never the break dancing superstar, just the girl standing by with the boom box. This has created a great reticence in many of us, a discomfort with falling, failing, or ever trying. An interesting statistic: Only one in ten girls will volunteer to try a new technology in the classroom, whereas nine in ten boys volunteer.

Ninety percent of having the confidence to try something new is rooted in your comfort with falling, even if it's in front of an audience suppressing laughter at your expense. When I used to take riding lessons, my horse would often give me a nice, public humbling in front of my fellow riders (a few being very cute and adorable "jocks"). I frequently wound up on the ground instead of maintaining my seat, as my horse tried every trick in the book to dismount me. (I found out later he'd secretly been reading the equine manual "Ridding your Rider for Good: A Step-by-Step Guide to Reaching Every Horse's Dream of a Luxurious Life at Pasture.")

Despite having my ego shoveled down my throat, along with a pound of dirt and grass, actually experiencing those falls and surviving them lessened my fear of how horrible they are. Sometimes I even manage to rise in a fit of laughter at my dorkitude because falling is freeing. Bruises are beautiful, couraeous to acquire, and sassy to show off later. They are like postcards of ninja living.

Isn't it cool that when someone really sheds her ego and gets real, gets human and makes mistakes, it actually invites other humans to connect with her? When someone says, "I know it all, I've got it covered," there isn't any room for anyone else to participate, relate or share wisdom. But when you are humbly fallible, you become more accessible. The anxiety of perfectionism lifts while fluidity and community step in. The biggest comfort is in knowing that your genuine loved ones will stick by you whether you stay on the horse or fall off headfirst.

So dive in. Try. Kung Fu Fall. Laugh, get up. Then stay up.

Until next time,

My Ninja Journey Part XII: Emptying Your Cup

There's a story about a professor who visited a monk. The monk started pouring the professor a cup of tea, and he just kept pouring and pouring, tea spilling everywhere. The guest flipped out, to which the monk explained that his mind was like the teacup: too filled with his own ideas to let anything new in.

I've emptied my teacup, and went back to the place we all once knew, when we were children: unscathed, open willing, malleable, curious. Shoshin, a Japanese martial arts word, describes the state of consciousness that always remains fresh. It is a warrior's goal to live every moment with a clean-slated beginner's mind… Even after you find out, that, when he mentioned he was "duplicitous," what he meant to say was that he had a secret life involving a Russian the night before, three Brazilians a month ago, and a couple of female co-workers along the way. Even after the promotion you worked eighty hours a week for months to earn was given to the boss's niece, who came in one day and proceeded to take over your office and then spend two leisurely hours on the phone talking about where to get the best "mani." Ever after the person you thought you knew so well "got to know" the barrista at what is now your "former" favorite Starbucks. Even after all forms of catastrophic hurt – after all of the "they'd nevers" are replaced by the "they sure dids!" – we have the choice to begin again, to act as if the skid marks burning on the heart aren't really impeding every decision, infusing every choice with a brand new sense of "oh, hell no!"

The struggle for shoshin is like that of a child, once totally open to the world, who reached for the warm light of a flame only to feel the scorch on her skin. She never wants to touch again. How can you remain open and get to know that new, potentially "special someone" when you are acutely aware of the possibility of everything ending in a third-degree burn?? In the past, I have employed great skill in avoiding personal availability to burns. I've traveled, worked eighty-hour weeks and cushioned myself with busy schedules – leaving no room for "that." It's comfortable. It's safe. It protects and guards the heart. But there is a big difference between being tough and being courageous. It only takes a protective guarding to be tough, but it takes fearless courage to crack open. And it takes a warrior to remain open.

To obtain this state of shoshin you must first understand a universal fact about humans: unless someone is completely wacko, a person's top priority is not to hurt others on purpose. The ways in which others have ended up hurting me usually speak more about their limitations, our timing, the lessons I've learned – and the lessons they needed to learn… But it is not proof that the masses are out to make sure I am hurt by a thousand voodoo pins of pain. Hurt happens; it's the way we are challenged as humans to shake up and grow. Forgive the past. Forgive the humanity in others. Put it to rest. Let it go. Empty your cup.

After forgiving all of the firestarters, you must then learn to use the past, as opposed to wading around in it. You don't have to think of memories as "bad" experiences or wasted time. What matters is that you are circling closer and closer toward your truth through each debacle. That is the nature of life; all of us spinning around, running into dozens of others, taking nicks and chips off each other. We chip away until what is left is a beautiful sculpture, shaped by life, shaped by our lessons. The task of the warrior is to choose opening relentlessly; to allow others in and to chip away at you, teach you. In this way, all experiences have a home as our instructors. Use the past as fuel for wisdom. Use it to learn that you don't need to tumble down hills with every Jack and Jill. Get intuitively selective, make wise choices about who is worth the fall and, once you have - dive like you're never been bludgeoned before!

Until next time...

My Ninja Journey Part XI - "The River of Life"

Life is like a river - always moving, changing, gushing, rushing, whipping, brimming, frenetic, all at once - just like your typical Monday. You can either go with its flow or you can stand in the middle, waving your hands liike a frenetic traffic conductor, and make futile attempts to stop it. I have acted like an obssessive-compulsive conductor at times, needing to control the exact longitudinal direction of the flow, at what speed it might run and toward which coordinate it will head, and then washing my hands repeatedly thereafter. I have tried to organize the river in a vain attempt to make others see a vision and promptly get on that plan.

Whenever I've tried to exert control over this massive river, I've always ended up getting flung around in its white-water rapids and spit out onto its bank, clear once again about who's the boss. The river. The impetus behind my (what seems to be occurring more frequently of late) tight tunnel vision is the the deep-seated doubt that life, left to its own devices, will do me right. If I just control it "enough," then it'll be exactly as I need it, without deviations, disasters or random damages. Because there are no appointments held open for "chance brutalization" on my schedule!

Truth be told, I am not only resistant to artibrary bruising like others of the human variety, I've been secretly resistant to good as well. Resistant to unexpected successses, windfalls or awards (all three of those potentially appearing in the form of a person, place, or a thing). The notion is peculiar, even to me. All I know is that, believe it or not, deep down inside I'm an extrovert of the painfully shy kind who sometimes acts like compliments are made of kryptonite. ( Yea, that's right - I'm from Krypton. Sorry girls, but Superman is such a player! And unfortunately, I was born a "sidekick," so no x-ray vision, no ability to fly or run faster than a speading bullet, no super-human strength... The only "powers" I have aren't what most would call "super..." I DO possess the highly underrated ability to multi-task, eat whatever I want and not gain weight, create very unusual and insulting swear words, do a hell of a back-bend, and can have multiple orgasms just by pressing... uh, well, heh maybe I should keep that little "power" to myself... Damn, it sucks to be me sometimes!;)

Think about that for a minute. What a stalled-out life - controlling the possibility of bad while rejecting the possibility of good!!

Good, bad or ugly, there really is only one choice - to be in the river and let her flow. It is in the river that miracles can happen. If you are always controlling the exact nature of your route you will miss the brilliance of falling off the path and happening upon a field of posies that inspires you into a whole new chapter of your life. Stumbling down a a dead end that brings you to your knees may teach you a new lesson that causes a total awakening. But that only happens when you're open to tthe natural detours and undulations of life. When you have tunnel vision, with a rigid set of marks you want to hit in life, there is no room left for the river's plan for you. It is like being hell-bent on heading to an envisioned tributary. "Must get to tributary, must get to tributary. It has three whole kohaku koi, a picket fence and a trout I really dig." But the river. The river, man, the river wants to take you up in her fury and brilliance, and drop you in her coolest, biggest tributary imaginable with gads of vibrant tropical fish, coral mistaken for jewels and a whole room full of dig-worthy trout. Get lost. Get swept Go for the flow.

I've learned the quest of the ninja isn't only to be in the river, but to be the river. Be the strength of the whipping current. Be the pliable fluidity of its changing waters - strong enough to withstand life's great waves of heartbreaks, disappointments and loss, but malleable enough to bend, not break, harmonizing with the ups and downs instead of bucking against them. The river is always morphing, moving, traveling, evolving, sometimes in silence and soemtimes in a rage. Gorgeous. Big. Surging.

All I know is that when you're in the river you just know it; you feel it. It's the undeniable tickle in your nose, the calm in your gut, the inspiration climbing up your throat; the feeling that you are in your moment. Be in your river. Get tossed, get taken, get carried to your most limitless tributaries.

Think about it.

Until next time...

My Ninja Journey Part X: "Bad Pickup Lines"

 Like every other woman on the planet (of the Ninja variety or not), I’ve been the object of some really bad pickup lines. The following are just a few of the more "unforgettable" ones:

“Great legs. What time do they open?”

“That shirt’s very becoming on you. Of course, if I were on you, I’d be coming too.”

“Can I get your picture so I can prove to all my friends that angels really do exist?”

“Ok, I’m here. What do you want for your next wish?"

“The name’s Right. Mr. Right.”

“I’m addicted to yes, and I’m allergic to no. So what’s it gonna be?”

“Does your watch have a second hand? I want to know just how long it took for me to fall in love with you.”

“Apart from being sexy, what do you do for a living?”

These “incidents,” though somewhat insufferable, inspired me to ponder one of the most delicate interfaces of communication – that with the opposite sex. I ruminated on one particular aspect of this complex conundrum, mainly, “Is there really a “good,” or “effective,” way to approach someone of the opposite sex and then communicate to that person that you are interested, find him/her attractive, or want to get to know him/her on a deeper level? (And this connotation of "a deeper level" does not involve engaging in a wild frenzy of sexual activity…)

After deliberating for a while upon my observations, I came to a conclusion regarding this mysterious form of communication and devised a theory, of sorts, concerning the perfect thing to say to that ‘hottie’ when the occasion calls for it. To put it briefly, it's not so much what you say as it is how you say it.

My strategy is really quite simple. But to make things even clearer, I’ve created a hypothetical situation to demonstrate my concept:

Destiny is just leaving her apartment when she spots Mr. Right unloading his groceries from the trunk of his "Volunteer Fireman"-marked truck. She's previously observed him in the neighborhood, noting his tattooed biceps and his propensity to be an easy target for cookie-hustling girl scouts. She really wants to meet this guy. And the perfect moment has been presented for her - he’s now walking her way, carrying ten grocery bags effortlessly with one arm, the sleeve of his white t-shirt taut against his bulging muscles. What should Destiny say to open the door of opportunity?

Here are her options:

A. "Hi there. I notice you walk by here often with groceries. You must cook. What's your favorite recipe?"

B. "So.... What's it like being a firefighter?"

C. "Hi there, guy carrying groceries. Slow down for a sec and pull my finger."

The correct answer? C! I love C!! That response rules and the rest drool!

Ok, so you probably think I'm crazy... (But you already knew that... I am studying the teachings of Master Trungpa.) With that said, I’ll go ahead and explain my rationale. First, the technical explanation: A and B stink. Now in layman's terms: The responses in A and B are eloquent and make perfect sense. And those are the same qualities that make them wrong!

My concept is conceived upon the basis that it's more important to use good timing than good content. In other words, it is more important to not only recognize an opportunity when you see one, but to take it, than it is to say anything smart, clever, or even coherent.

Answer C seems to have a lot wrong with it. It's too demanding and juvenile. But that's also why it’s great! It takes little thought to create. It's free from second-guessing. It can come flowing out of Destiny’s mouth in .5 nanoseconds. It’s called "seizing the moment."

No one is really listening to the words you use at the beginning of a conversation with them anyway. (One reason people often forget your name or the company you work for.) They're in shock and awe that a stranger is talking to them! They're looking from your face to your hands, wondering whether you're a friend or about to clobber them with a club. That's just our inner caveman subconsciously surfacing, I guess. The bottom line? Don't waste your breath saying anything clever at that particular moment.

One of my close friends recalls the first thing he said to his wife when they met. He claims (actually he swears up and down and every other direction in between) that he said, "Hello, my name is Jack. I'm so glad to meet you." But in reality (and I was an eyewitness to the whole shabang), he said, "Ugh, I don’t think I should have eaten that sardine sandwich. I think I might have to barf." Did my friend’s stupid, inarticulate words matter? No, they did not. What matters was that he was smiling (despite his inclination to hurl at the moment) and relaxed when he said them. (And yes, Jack is still married to "the girl he almost hurled on.")

Opening a conversation with a stranger is mostly an exercise in non-logic.You'll waste your breath trying to say the perfect words at that most fleeting of moments. You just want to stop Mr. or Ms. Maybe, gain their focus, and create some trust. Let your words be simple. Don’t worry - later on you can demonstrate your charming wit...

The great thing about all this is that you can stop second-guessing yourself and start indulging your stupid side. I once knew a guy who approached a woman at a party. He said, "I like yellow shoes on Scandinavian people." Last I heard, those two were looking for a bigger house for all their babies. Talk about results!

Until next time...

My Ninja Journey IX - "White Lies"

 

President George Washington, a.k.a Mr. "I cannot tell a lie," had it all wrong. In fact, studies now show that kids who are able to tell lies effectively are more successful when it comes to getting along with others.

See Johnny lie. See Johnny have many friends.
Stretching the truth (i.e. lying) is a natural component of human instinct because it's the easy way out. We all do it, so there is no reason to deny it. Some white lies save relationships, some ease a hectic situation, and others buy us time. The list could go on forever.

A while back, I found an interesting article on the subject of lying. The article discussed a new AP-Ipsos poll to determine how much people really lie. The results were very interesting - and surprising. Almost half of its respondents said lying was never justified. Yet in the same poll, almost every respondent said it was OK to lie in certain situations, such as protecting someone's feelings.
Apparently white lies are an acceptable, even necessary, part of our lives - even though we dislike the idea of lying.
In the AP-Ipsos poll, four in 10 people said it was sometimes OK to exaggerate a story to make it more interesting, and about a third said it was OK to lie about your age. A third also said it was sometimes OK to lie about being sick to take a day off work.

It all depends on the nature of the lie, of course, but in general, white lies can assist the well-mannered in handling some of life's more difficult scenarios with a little more grace. Unike bold-faced lies made for purely selfish reasons, white lies can help you avoid crushing someone's heart - or ego.

With all that said, I've learned it's better to avoid lying and just tell the truth. Sometimes the truth hurts, and what you say may not make you popular - but it's the best option of all.

Until next time...

My Ninja Journey Part VIII - "Auto-pilot"

 Once every six or seven blue moons, I'll arrive at some appointment with a coke in one hand, purse in the other, and NO recollection of the drive there, where I parked, or how in God's name I managed to leave the house in such an awful outfit! I call this "going on auto," and it's a dangerous way to fly. Like a pilot who sets the plane on auto for a quick snooze (or a quick swig of booze), I space out while numbly moving through my mental, albeit high-speed, daily list of to-dos. I am Just. Not. There.  Life is passing right before my eyes and I am on Pluto!

I've noticed that this never happens with babies or kids; everything to them is constantly new, carbonated, and surprising. They say miracles live in life's little details. Beauty lives in the details. Colors and smiles and sweet scents live in the details. After continuous bombardment of stimulus and sheer repetition, our senses numb to these finer points. A ninja combats this by treating every experience, every moment, with a blank slate - a newborn brain. She then commits to this state of conciousness, saturating the way she experiences her daily life by constantly heightening and expanding each of her five senses.

I read an article written by a Zen Buddhist about a meditation experiment performed on Transcendental Meditators, Zen Buddhists, and regular people. ( In transcendental meditation, one can really sink away deep into meditation, whereas the point of Zen is to stay eternally awake, incredibly present and alive to every moment.  Stay with me here!!)  In the experiment, the Transcendental Meditators and the Zen Buddhists were told to meditate, and the control group was told to sit comfortably and breathe deeply. In each group a loud, alarming noise sounded. The Transcendental Meditators didn't even register the noise.  The Zen Buddhists registered it, then went immediately back to an intense calm, meditative state.  The control group registered it sharply and then stayed alert for some time.  Next, the experimenters applied the noise at regular, frequent intervals. The Transcendental Meditators still registered nothing. The Zen Buddhists kept registering it every time as if it were the first - with a sharp drop, and then back to a calm, meditative state.  The control group reacted the same way they did to the first noise; however, they became less relaxed and more agitated each time the noise was sounded.

An interesting experiment - yet I'm using it as an analogy. Like the Zen Buddhists in the experiment, the goal of every ninja is to maintain this "newborn baby" ideal, to keep her senses completely alive to the world, never once going TOO far off the deep end (whether it's due to meditation or "going on auto"), to not be totally aware of her surroundings at all times. She is forever refreshing her ideal, wiping her sense-slate clean for the next stimuli.

Thomas Edison would test new research assistants by having them over for soup. If the candidate seasoned the soup before tasting it, he wouldn't hire them. He didn't want someone who made assumptions based on the past, habit or repetition. The lesson I gleamed from that? To treat every soup, every sound, every experience with all five senses. Expand my knowledge of the world. By keeping the five alive, living is like one incredible acid trip without the whole bad psychedelic tie-dye imperative.

Until next time,

My Ninja Journey Part VII: "One of Life's Sweetest Pleasures"

"A kiss is something you cannot give without taking and cannot take without giving."

 "A kiss can be a comma, question mark or an exclamation point." 

~Mistinguett

"It is the passion that is in a kiss that gives to its sweetness; it is the affection that sanctifies it."
~Christain Nestell Bovee

Kissing. It conjures up a swash of wonderful emotions, sensations and meanings. Originally an instinctual prelude to mating, kissing has transformed humankind by becoming the universal glue that binds. A nonverbal communication that declares a thousand things. A bridge to our past, present and future. Destiny where "soul meets soul on lover's lips" (Percy B. Shelley).

A kiss is both given and received. It's spontaneous. Unique. Intuitive. Indelible. Secretive. Affectionate; passionate. Romantic and blissful. It can be sexual. Or pure. Innocent. Or provocative. It can't be faked. Its duality can bring great joy. Or deep sorrow. Render you weak. Or brave. Vulnerable. Or invincible. It can awaken. Or even kill. A link between our inner psyche and outer world, a kiss is a mysterious, yet revealing, life-sustaining force. A symbol of tragedy. And betrayal. Of greeting and farewell. Simple, yet so complex, its power is infinite.

A wise NGF (Ninja-GirlFriend) of mine once noted it's a sweet piece of the big loooovvvee puzzle. And most of us girls, being the super sleuths that we are (especially of the ninja-variety), have a remarkable ability to spend an inordinate amount of time considering this intricate and intriguing mystery of the heart. In our pursuit of romantic nirvana, we think about kissing inside and out. Front, back and center. Morning, noon and night. In the shower; driving. Shopping. Doing our makeup. Sleeping. Whatever and whenever.

When the self-evaluation is semi-digested, we discuss it with our fellow NGFs. Sharing experiences, looking for meaning, finding relevance in subtle nuances and casual gestures. Making a silk purse out of a sow's ear. It's amazing how our imaginations can spin yarn when it comes to this rather carnal activity, convincing us of truths that might not otherwise exist...

But beyond the shiverin', sexy-feel-good of it, what do we really know about kissing? Is it truly the doorway to the soul that poets wax on about? The barometer of connubial bliss? The yin to the yang? The moth to the flame?

For me, understanding the meaning of this potentially intoxicating interaction has become my manifest destiny. (Not really... "Manifest destiny" just sounded cool.) No, seriously and truthfully, I've long felt its gravitational pull. It's mesmerized me and preoccupied me. It's shaped my perception of things.

As a little girl, I remember believing that only married people could kiss on the lips. (Did I mention I had a very strict upbringing?) In my innocence, I sensed there was an intimacy to this sacred act that warranted an official union. How else did I account for various characters on TV who kissed each other? According to a six-year-old's code of ethics, thin pieces of cellophane must have sheathed their mouths, preventing unsanctioned lips from touching. (Clearly, I was already familiar with Medieval social manifestos on propriety and decorum because kissing was considered serious business back then. One could be forced to the altar if caught kissing in public!)

Eventually, (at the age of 24... no, just kidding) I came to realize that a blood test and license were not a prerequisite for locking lips. I'd also come to know that the quest for kissing of the truly romantic kind would be a tad challenging in "grown-up" life. Despite a spirit that's always been ready, my fulfillment would
swing from feast to famine.

Not long ago, I was experiencing a seemingly terminal kissing pause - the kind that has you appreciating just how a nun can live a life of chastity - when lo and behold, I found myself at a party standing next to a guy with major kiss-a-risma. He was chatting up the girl on his left, but his magnetic allure distracted me from my own party-companion. Somewhere toward the end of the evening, we started talking. I liked the way he thought. I liked the way his mouth looked when he talked. I liked the ease that washed over me. As we made our way away from the party, he suggested we find a coffee shop to continue the evening. We moved from Starbucks to CC's, sipping coffee and hot cocoa while sensing that palpable crescendo of chemistry and synchronicity. Somewhere in between deep personal questions like "Have you ever had a broken heart?", the kissing began. It was kissing of the highest order. A flatlined sex life was suddenly shocked back into a healthy rhythm... Sigh...

The kissing that occurred on that most memorable, sacred night would break the drawn-out dry spell. Almost overnight, a whistlin' tundra was transformed into a lush, tropical jungle. And so I began an unprecedented kissing romp-capade, jumping from lily pad to lily pad.

Months later, waking up one morning in a hazy state of early-dawn daydreams after an evening of some very scrumptious kissing, I began flipping through the "Boys I've Kissed" pin-up calendar in my mind. Seemingly forever possessing a 14-year-old mentality, I pulled myself out from under the cozy covers to scribble
down the jumbled "Kissing" file-cabinet that was suddenly unlocked from the deep corners of my mind.

These notes of historical (or hysterical) significance got me thinking about all the utterly delightful kissing experiences I've been lucky to have. Women are often told they'll need to kiss many a frog before they find their prince. Or that kissing is the key ingredient to a happy romantic life. Mostly, a kiss is simply a nice way to say hello. And spread a little love. It's also fun to do in the shower, at the movies, on a park bench, over a candlelit dinner, or in bed first thing in the morning. There's really no better way to spend time with someone you love, like, or unabashedly lust for. Whatever else it may be, kissing is a beautiful thing.

So spread a little love with a kiss. And remember the "Kissing Credo:"

Kiss with enthusiasm and respect. 
Kiss with adandon and no regret. 
Kiss knowing each one counts for something. 
And forever be in quest of kissing!

Until next time...

My Ninja Journey Part VI - "Mount Fugi of Life"

 By the time I was twenty-five, I had stumbled into acquiring everything I assumed a human who might later be forced to attend school reunions should have. I had rustled up a tall, good-looking husband. I had a job title that made my parents proud, one I liked to say out loud. I had purchased a home with my husband in a quaint little suburbian subdivision with everything a first-time home owner could want short of a picket fence, despite the whole "being able to afford it" part. I finally felt like I belonged to the world, like I was enough.

Fast-forward to present. Everything I had acquired that I thought made me complete, whole, is now gone (along with a few extra things I had taken for granted that I'll just call "bonus points"). The beautiful home that I was going to start a family in burned to the ground, my husband and myself barely escaping with our lives, not to mention losing EVERYTHING. The job I had was long gone. Even the tall, good-looking husband I had "rustled" up fell out of the picture. Throw in my parents' divorce, my mother's death, along with my grandmother's and aunt's deaths within a three-year span and the picture I painted in the first paragraph doesn't sound so appealing anymore... Everything I had mistaken myself for had been systematically stripped away. I was left starkly naked. With or without my permission, life had broken all my ties that blinded. Who was I if not these things that stamped societal approval of my existence?

Like a snowball with a seed at its center, we roll down the Mount Fuji of life, amassing layers of expectations and misbeliefs about ourselves and how we should live our lives, until the simple seed can no longer be seen. This blind, insulating accumulation starts to seem like life stats taken at the the hospital: "Yes, she bought her first home, check! Blood pressure and career title? Check, check. Pulse and marriage certificate? Check."

I've learned that as humans we sometimes tumble far from our truth. As warriors, we fight to come back. We shed every single thing standing in our way, and sometimes when we we don't, life has this lovely way of doing it for us anyway. I've been asking myself a lot of questions of late, and although I haven't found the answers to any of them yet, I mull them over almost daily: Who am I living my life for? What ideas about myself are holding me back? Am I keeping my life small because of some misconception that i won't be liked if I'm successful? Am I afraid I won't be liked if I'm not successful enough? Am I afraid to move on from a situation because it would involve risk, change, and uncertainty? Am I afraid to stop eating a baker's dozen before bed because mainlining sugar is more comfortable than sitting still and being in the moment?

I'm still reading the Shambhala book, "The Sacred Path of the Warrior," in my quest for ninjahood, and Master Trungpa says "one must cut a few buds if you want your rosebush to grow back twice as abundant." Look at your life. Intuitively we all know what is not authentically a part of ourselves. We know what is ready to be clipped. Whether it's a relationship or a little habit, letting go of what stands between you and your most pure self can be painful and radical. A warrior-ninja is here for epiphanies and progress. With that said, I have come to the realization that in my quest to become a ninja, I must identify all the ties that blind, and then let each of them go.

The warrior's way is to get in touch with the core of you, the you at the center of all that snow. The you that laughs easily and feels light and can't wait to wake up in the morning. The you that looks straight in the eyes of the one you love, speaking nothing but your truth. The you that doesn't need to prove anything or live for anyone, is just enough - exactly as is. So your life rarely feels like a "have to," and nearly always a "want to." A "can't wait to." Think about it.

Until next time...

My Ninja Journey Part V - "No Apologies Necessary"

I read recently that there is an overwhelming difference between how men and women respond when they bump (physically) into each other. The majority of women are quick to apologize, even if they were the ones bowled over by a runaway train with a Blackberry.

Not too long ago, a fellow ninja (and longtime friend) shared an interesting observation with me. She said, "When I used to work in a building with an elevator, I was amazed at how many women got on the elevator and said, 'Sorry.' Really, it's like one in three women in the building did this, and no men ever did. I could never figure it out. Sorry for taking up space? Weird. Another woman, a brilliant young executive, preceded every single thing she said in business meetings with, 'Sorry, but I thought..'"

I'll be the first to admit that I'm overly apologetic. It's something I work on NOT doing daily, no hourly. Why? Sorry diminishes the power of your opinions, all but writing off the point you are about to drive home. An apology is defined as "an acknowledgement expressing regret or asking pardon for a fault or offense.' It is no grave offense to enter an elevator, take up space, or have a point of view. Save your hearty sorrys for when you are caught half-naked with the new mailroom hotty in the Starbucks bathroom on your "sick day." Now, that's an appropriate time for a, "Goodness me, I'm just so SORRY! There happened to be this spontaneous tornado alert and we hid in the bathroom and then there were aliens and chaos and a dog ate my clothes and cured me of my cold!!"

I'm learning not to live my life as one big apology. It's definitely not the ninja-way.

Until next time,

My Ninja Journey Part IV - "Incognito"

 

 One time when I was in high school, I was in this asylum-style emotional state, lost on my first "out of town" trip alone to visit my brother in Slidell - a mere hour and a half drive from home. I was astray, bright red, with tears streaming down my face, my car stopped almost in the middle of the street trying to figure out which way to go. I looked over at some guy in a Volvo passing by and he simply lifted his hand, made a thumbs-up sign and gave me a smile that beamed, "Everything will be alright." It was so kind, so out of context, so minimal, and yet, like an arrow it pierced straight through the feeling that I was riding it all alone. An act that took less than ten seconds, still fresh in my mind more than ten years later. There is something incredibly magical in random acts of kindness.

The sage stage of giving is in doing so without words, without requirements, without pausing for thanks. This is the way of the warrior: not only to give, but to do so incognito. When it is anonymous it automatically circumvents all those messy human quirks like ego, wanting extra credit or buttering someone up for a requested return on a later date. When i was little and my brother wanted to take apart some electronic toy I had so he could build a strobe light or a trip-wire alarm for his room, I immediately went into bargaining mode. "I'll give you my new walkman (yes I'm that old) if you don't pin me down with your knees to try and see how close your drool can get to my forehead without actually touching it for a week, my walkman AND my remote control monster truck if you don't do it for a month." As the youngest, it was rare that someone wanted something I had, and rarer still that I could ever get people to play by my rules, so I used all I had to get all I thought I needed.

Giving with expectations of return is like casting a line with a worm on a hook to reel in a fish, and then gutting the fish later. Bargaining in business is not only appropriate, it's intellight, but in relationships with loved ones? Gutting. It sets up a spirit of power broking and amputates the true essense of giving, which is love. Wanting the other to have more. Wanting the other to feel nice. Making life easier for someone you care about. It can be difficult to do, but I've discovered a litmus test of sorts if you are unsure of your gifting/giving motives. Before I give of myself - whether it's my free time, money or heart - I ask myself, "Will I resent this later? Will I be wanting thanks, pausing for acknowledgement? Will I be irrirated with a rash of 'Look at all I do for them?'" I've learned there are two basic ways of giving: "Listen, I've got very limited resources, if I give it to you... it better be good and I'd better get a lot back." Versus, "Listen, honey, I've got loads here, take some of this extra weight off my back. Enjoy!" It's a powerful feeling to give from your pool of "enough." Plenty begets plenty - like mold, where some exists, more grows. A friend of mine with incredible money karma claims that whenever she is financially insecure or tight, it is in that hour that she gives more, tips generously and is fluid with her money, kick-starting the flow - like lowering national interest rates, which makes money easier to acquire, thus activating spending. It is because she sends the world a powerful message first, "I have more than enough," that the universe mirrors it back to her. It is just plain attractive and infectious.

Believe in abundance, live with a little thumbs-up, and perform random acts of kindess, anonymously. You never know which simple little gift will end up profoundly affecting a perfect stranger, who may be silently grateful for years..

Until next time...

My Ninja Journey Part III - "Self Loooovve"

 

Have you ever met a woman who you just know has a real sense of self? Maybe she's not even the hottest kitten in the litter, but she definitely has something else going on, something bigger, something emanating from her. Shining. Blazing. Drawing you in. This is a ninja living from her center, regardless of the exterior - living from her essence. This essence is our most true self - the unadulterated, unguarded, playful, fierce, damn fine self.

In my quest to achieve ninjahood, I've been reading the Shambhala book, "The Sacred Path of the Warrior." In it, Master Chogyam Trungpa talks about how each of us has essential goodness within. (Yea, deep stuff!) We are born with this vital good, and once we realize this we no longer have to convince, embellish or dress up our sense of being: we already are. All right, Trungpa, I can jive with you, meditation man. I have this basic goodness within: I am good. There I said it.

Master Trungpa says to see your good qualities and accept your flaws as a beautiful part of being human, even if every meal you ate today just happened to be a six-pack of powdered doughnuts you bought at the corner Chevron. Even if it is four in the morning and you swore you'd never call your ex ever, ever again. Learn to love yourself in the raw, unconditional, profound way that you love your big sister or your BFF. Know you'll never, no matter the circumstances, leave her side for one solitary second. This is the way of the ninja, to love yourself that ceaselessly.

Ok. That's all fine and dandy. But self-love? I've been accused of being "slightly disorganized, even "peculiarly challenged." It seems to take me longer than most to learn the basics, and it's taken me even longer to embrace all of my shortcomings and misadventures of the painful kind. It's taken several years to fully embrace my body "as is." But I'm still left with a question mark above my head when it comes to the real self-love. The stuff all the talk shows, magazines and self-helpers expound upon in between commercial breaks, selling me well-packaged promises for face, butt, thighs and everything in between..

But according to what I've read by Master Trungpa, apparently the most intimate, sensational relationship we are all capable of isn't the one with Prince Charming - it is the one we can have with ourselves.

Well, that's all I feel like sharing today. I think my journey into ninjahood is well on its way... So, until I feel like being all philosophical again I leave you with these ninja words to ponder:

Happiness doesn't knock once you've finally become perfect. Happiness knocks down your door once you realize that you already are.

Until next time...

My Ninja Journey Part II - "Scaling the Mountaintop"

 
I had a typical, run-of-the-mill, dysfunctional family of the peculiar and slightly eccentric kind growing up. I look back now and realize I gleaned a whole lot of "character building" out of those crucial stages of evelopment. An Irish-Scandinavian lot with a taste for booze (well, one in particular) and a mind for stubbornness, we lived in a smaller suburban/country area with a flare for similarity, symmetry, and organization. My family was anything but.

One night, I happened to be upset about something and, to cheer me up, my mom insisted we throw on layers of goofy dress-up clothes and march through the neighborhood singing "You and I travel to the beat of a different drum." Just Mama, myself, and Linda Ronstadt - and the neighborhood, in awe.

In short, my upbringing wasn't typical, but it sure was educational. From a bland town, born of a slightly insane family and incubated with a big sense of adventure, I craved the wanderlust and independence I had innate within me, so I left my hometown the first chance I could. (Mind you, I didn't travel THAT far - just 20 miles or so to my home state's capital..) As the saying goes, "you can't choose your family, but you can choose to move a million miles away from them."

Miles away or down the block, a ninja's primary purpose is to live a life led by love: in all relations, in every decision, nearly every day, even at famliy reunions. The family inferno is particularly hot with opportunities to practice acceptance and love. For some, it's probably effortless to get along with kinfolk. I envy you. Not to say that I'm not on speaking/hugging/kissing terms with every member in my immediate circle, but we can certainly be a confrontational group.

In my quest for ninjahood, I've learned that the starter step in familial recovery is to accept them just as they are. (Actually, I began learning this step LONG before I began my gigantuan quest to become a ninja, I'm just learning to fine-tune these skills now.) Before this genuine acceptance causes you to break out in spontaneous Pollyannish hives, you must first learn forgiveness. You must first wrestle with something in order to pin it down; scale the mountain in order to reach the top. To accept without true forgiveness is like forcing a clown smile over fury and calling it a fine time. With real forgiveness, acceptance just happens.

As I always say (note I said "say," not "do"), don't put off tomorrow what you can do today. (I can be a bit of a hypocrite sometimes...) Start forgiving now. Today. Whatever it takes. There is no better moment. We never know when any of us will be yanked from the stage, curtain drawn. If that has already happened with one of your loved ones, then you really know the weight of this (I'm speaking from personal experience). But I've learned that even if a family member is no longer with you, there is still the opportunity to accept and forgive the past, even the loss. Family is not a choice: love is. The choice of the warrior-ninja? To unwaveringly choose love like it's your last day on stage.

Until next time....

My Ninja Journey (aka My Imagination Gets a Little Weird on Sleepless Nights...)

Deep in a lush jungle of life, past a bushel of perennial exes gone very wrong, just beyond the hangover hills, and to the left of the thick briar of bounced checks, lies a sacred dojo. A place of wisdom, a place of eternal learning, a space where courageous ninjas have trained for generations. Nestled in this heart of the dojo lives Mama Ninja, a wise, magisterial guide. She is the thread that connects all ninjas; she lives inside each of us. She’s the attentive voice, waiting patiently, answering kindly, inspiring nothing short of an inner revolution. She is ready for me to call upon her, ready to teach me the sacred, ancient precepts that will enable me to invoke my most evolved, potent self to become... a Ninja.

Ninja. A breed that lets the milk spill, the eggs break, and the truth erupt. A breed that looks Challenge right in the eye and asks her to dance. A breed that, simply put, is a member of the most select, fierce, and damn fine sisterhood to date.

Becoming a Ninja is a journey. The journey is a process. It is about being human. About being beautifully imperfect. Humorous. Real. A mountain can only be climbed by taking the first step. And it’s ok to take the first step and then fall. Or fail. Stumble, bumble, fumble. Or step ahead - even a few steps ahead - and then have to go back and retrace them all.

Becoming a Ninja isn’t ALL about self-exploration and inner journeying. Ninjas have plenty of fun too. Coming into this ancient sisterhood brings with it many advantageous and pragmatic perks as well. For instance, a Ninja can be in a crowd of hundreds and be understood only by her accomplice with the aid of "Ninja Speak," a secret language for warrior ears only... Here are a few examples you might hear around a "dojo" ("dojo" has more than one meaning in the Ninja tongue - in this instance it refers to a closely-knit group of Ninjas who trust, confide in, and share warplans only with each other):

Benny - a "friend with benefits." Example: "Yes, of course I’m stopping by my benny tonight. I’ve been extremely dehydrated as of late."

Dehydrated - a "dry spell," a bad streak of sexless life. Example: "It’s been seven months. I’m incredibly dehydrated. I’m almost ready to call last year’s benny."

Bonsai - a man who needs a lot of trimming, teaching, working on. Example: "He certainly is hot, but man, what a bonsai! I just don’t have that kind of time."

Flaccid - a man who takes the run of the mill "emotionally unavailable" to an award-winning status. Example: "I went all samurai on him when I found out he was yet another flaccid. I wonder what God put where his heart is supposed to be - a freezer??"

Going Samurai - losing your noodles on someone, going crazy mad. Example: "When she found out Mark was cheating on her AGAIN, she went all samurai on him. His friends are still giving him a hard time about that black eye!"

Haiku - like the short poem that is its namesake, a haiku is a relationship that is short-lived, never understood, and sorta irritating. Example: "Oh yes, Bob? Yes, some haikus are better left forgotton. I pray daily for total amnesia of that entire episode."

Sterile - an impeccably boring guy, a ninja most likely dates him because she wants her hair played with that week by someone inoffensive. Usually dropped in under a month, unless the sterile has a sumo. Example: "I just need a good sterile while I’m in the last stretch of my deadline."

Sumo - a man with very gifted proportions. (No example necessary in this definition.)

Wasabi - hot and spicy man. Example: "I don’t care if he does carry a man-purse. He’s totally wasabi!"

Potentials - the category of men who one would consider frollicking with. Example: "Stop by the party, there will be a bunch of potentials there!"

Sticky - suddenly finding yourself in a very peculiar social circumstance. Example: "When my ex walked into the bar with my old roommate it suddenly became very sticky."

I can’t reveal any other "Ninja secrets" right now... ( Well, actually that’s all I’ve thought of so far..)

And so, it is with great resolve, perseverance, and fortitude that I make the commitment to myself to understand that the enrichment of the self is of the utmost, vital importannce. From the center of the heart everything else spins out: love-life, career, productivity, family. During the flight of life I must put on my own oxygen mask before helping another. This commitment is for my growth, my passage into Ninjahood.

As I continue on my arduous journey, discovering and assimilating the ways of the Ninja, I will evince more elucidations, experiences, and expositions (sorry but I love alliterations) in "My Ninja Journey" journal.

Until next time... (i.e. my next episode of insomnia..)

Blah Blah BLOG!

  Definition of interest:

BlOGGER:  A sad, lonely, stagnant organism sitting ad infinitum at his computer typing feverishly away at his machine, striving to enlighten the world of his mundane, pointless opinions.  Reference:  "The Fairy Guide to the Human Language."  (Written by yours truly, of course!


With that said, here I am, BLOGGING!  I have often wondered how blogging would feel.  I've wondered what sensations the blogging "craze"would evoke.  Would I get high?  Would I feel happy, sad, mad?  Would I feel better about myself?  Accomplished?  Well, I'm blogging now, and I feel NOTHING!  Of course, I haven't blogged anything of real value - yet.   So perhaps as I delve deeper into the blogging phenomenon, my scientific findings will change...  But, alas, I'm not a scientist.  (Did I mention I'm a Fairy?  I.e. a tiny, elusive being in human form, who is clever, mischievous, and possesses magical powers.  Reader: Beware!)


What do people (humans) blog about?  The few blogs I've read, so far, have been mostly about "blogging."  It seems to me that the fascination is all about the blog itself.  Which makes me wonder:  Do humans have a brain?

That, my friendly giants, is the makings of another blog.