The Art of trying Not to “live the whole thing at once”

Wisdom from Naomi Shihab Nye & a few pennies from me

Photo by Daiga Ellaby on Unsplash

Hi! How are you? No, really~ how are you?

I write to you now from my dining room table. To the right of me, a bay window & tiered stand hosting conservatively, two dozen plants. (I could get on a whole tangent about this & how Covid turned my husband into a “plantsman”😂, but I’ll save that for another time.) Maybe I’ll backspace this out, maybe I won’t. Maybe it fits in perfectly with my struggle of ‘trying to live the whole thing at once,’ the ‘too many plants,’ some kind of metaphor, or talisman for my ‘bursting at the seams life.’ I could possibly make something of this; what they give, (these plants) & what they take. I could ask, “What is needed for these plants to thrive?” “And what is needed for me to thrive?” Is there common ground & so on. While I’m amused to just be noticing this thin thread, still something; I’ll just leave them here, just questions for now.

Within reach of these fingers that type to you is a candle gifted to me by my 91 year old Daddy for Mother’s Day. It’s made of pure beeswax & smells like lilacs; lilacs because they were my Mama’s absolute favorite. I lit it just now for the first time. I went out yesterday and gathered live lilacs in full bloom from the three bushes scattered about our backyard, taking just one sprig from the struggling bush; noting more seed there than flower. I then huffed this varied, violet, shaded bouquet long & deep, as if somehow, the near swallowing of this scent would bring her to me; rouse her from the dead even, my Mama? How silly! But Grief is funny that way. Our subconsciouses just as elusive, pervasive & impactful. Neither care about what’s possible. They want what they want unabashedly. They both seek a soothing comfort, a something that feels like “home,” or belonging. Both are saturated with emotional salience; encoded deeply through our sensory memories; powerful enough to bring us a whole afternoon, in flashing frame on a single breeze, note, or…; or any singular thing, that sometimes, we can’t even identify.

It wasn’t my intent to write to you about grief, or even the subconscious really, ha! But here we are. And this is what I love about writing: how it can take me somewhere unexpected, hand me little treasures, like a small child cleaning out an attic or basement~ “Look what I found!” With writing, I get to decide what’s said, what gets left off; shape the story any way I like in the telling. I can even backspace the whole thing & start over. And while sometimes the thought of that is exhausting, if not defeating these days; there is also liberation, relief; empowerment in this “beginning again.” Or so say I on this day, anyway.😉

But today~today I won’t begin again. Today, I will choose to just continue. Continue “to manage” as the brilliant Naomi Shihab Nye writes in her comforting prose, even though I think her title evokes something different & possibly misleading, or at least less that her whole piece does. But I’ll let you decide for yourself. I’ve included it here, in case her words resonate with you, as they did me. Are you, like me, sometimes trying (even accidentally?) to “live the whole thing at once?” To be, do, learn, experience, create, care for, share etc. etc. all in the same day; same hour; same moment, even? Are you, like me, sometimes doing one thing, while some critical voice within is reminding you of all that you “should” also be doing, all that you are not doing, all that you are doing, but doing not quite right~incomplete, or sub-par? Are you, like Naomi, (& sometimes me) unable to sleep; deeming yourself a failure already, before you’ve even started? [Behold this masterpiece below:]

To Manage

by Naomi Shihab Nye

Listen

She writes to me

I can’t sleep because I’m seventeen

Sometimes I lie awake thinking

I didn’t even clean my room yet

And soon I will be twenty-five

And a failure

And when I’m fifty-oh!

I write her back

Slowly     slow

Clean one drawer

Arrange words on a page

Let them find one another

Find you

Trust they might know something

You aren’t living      the whole thing

At once

That’s what a minute    said to an hour

Without me     you are nothing

from Voices in the Air

Maybe this is just me, (& Naoimi~lol) but I don’t think so, which is why I decided to share this piece and my thoughts. I think it’s important to acknowledge (if only just for myself) that being “present” to our lives, fully occupying one moment at a time, is a practice; that the word practice has inherent in it, the need for repetition, not perfection. I forget this. Do you forget this?

Further, in our “hustle & grind” culture of today, the notion of ‘one thing at a time,’ or going slow, with an emphasis on ‘being’ over ‘doing,’ experience & effort, over outcome~well, I will admit, seem impractical, if not an act of radical rebellion that will surely leave us…? Hmm. Well, that is for each to decide for themselves.

This is what I want for myself, my children, all those I love, and for you, whomever you are reading this: To be fully present in your life & recognize that you, we are, (& I am) in fact, deciding. (And of course we don’t “get to” decide many, many things; & more to come from me on how to create the nervous system conditions for ‘choice’ too; but for now~ just an acknowledgement that we can become conscious in our lives. We can notice when we’ve gone ‘unconscious’ so to speak.)

So, as for me~ I decided some 5 or so years ago now; after spending decades in “over-functioning,” in “hustle & grind,” achieve, & prove energy, that I am no longer interested in whatever that payout allegedly is; which is not to say that I’ve stopped participating altogether. No, in fact, perhaps the opposite; because now my intention is to participate deliberately, on purpose; fueled by my inner furnace’s (aka: My “Soul Self”) desire to create & share, rather than the sense of the obligatory mandate of “musts.”

I decided I wanted to Feel Alive & fully present in my life; to embrace what I love for the sake of it, & to give myself my own fierce attention; (the most precious, limited commodity we all have; though we don’t know how much of it we have). I decided, Yes! Life is horrifying and terrorizing; unfair, & filled with suffering; but it is Also gorgeous and magical; miraculous & filled with love and connection; possibility and transformation. I promised myself Not to enter the land of “toxic positivity,” or gaslight (myself or others) in my joy pursuing efforts; but that in the “both/and”equation above, I needed more of the good stuff. And surely, I needed to be awake for it too!

Like Shihab Nye says: “You aren’t living the whole thing” 🤯 [& her last line (pure brilliance) & her use of spacing too] “Without me you are nothing.”

Wow. So many ways to interpret these words, these lines, the ones that precede them. They are laden with surprise lessons, both for literary technique & living itself.

So to share some of what I take from this, I see a reminder that I am not meant to live the whole thing at once. Ah, yes. And I see also a caution, or a revelation in “you aren’t living.” I ask myself, “Am I “living” today?” And I can ask this moment by moment to practice attention; to not leave my attention behind; to stay conscious.

As for “without me….” Whew! How can we even “Be” without ourselves? We can exist, sure, but I posit we cannot truly “be.” And for how long did I just drag my ‘body-suit’ around without my “Self?” And by this I mean, my “Soul Self,” or “Wise Mind,” the “me of me,” not my Ego, or my “auto-pilot.” I humbly remember how I still slip so easily back in to this habit; this habit of leaving “myself” out of my own life. Alas, I look again to see the words “you are nothing” that follow “without me;” [and while it is the ‘minute’ speaking to the ‘hour’ (in this poem)] & 🤯whew!~ (this could be a whole dissertation on “time” & the “spending” or “bending” of it;) I want to highlight instead a slant that posits “without me you are nothing,” can also mean that without the precious moments that make up our lives, there is no life, yes? Without even the most ordinary moments strung together with the extraordinary ones, there is no whole. To me, it speaks to how paying fierce attention to the little moments is paying fierce attention to our whole lives.

And I’ll share with you that this whole line of inquiry rouses memories of my tendency to ‘people please’ & my former days of desperate co-dependency; (which, although I know was a survival mechanism of sorts,) I now look back upon, not as a noble gift of self-sacrifice to another, but rather, in a whole new light. (After years of therapy & personal work), I see how ‘not showing up fully,’ intentionally (in consideration of & for my whole self) was both an abandonment, and an insult.

To only have considered “the other,” without considering myself (regardless of where I landed in the final choice) meant that I abandoned myself, and since the other person didn’t get to see the ‘full me in my truth;’ I robbed them of the real me too! So actually, nobody got me. Which, Woah, huh? (I’m sure I’ll re-visit this whole subject of ‘over-functioning’ as it relates to the nervous system & attachment theory; and co-dependency too; as I have much to share on these topics personally & professionally.)

But in closing, I want to share that I set out to write you that I miss writing here, chatting with you, as it were, that I have not forgotten my April 20th post promising a follow-up on “noticing” (as a part of the conditions necessary to be in the “space to create.” Specifically, I wanted to share a video of a ‘sensory attention’ practice. (And I will. Just not today). You see, today, Naomi Shihab Nye brought me home to myself; to the point of it all; she reminded me of my big picture; she reminded me of practice; she reminded me I need to bring myself along if any of this is to be real.

So I set out to tell you I have intentionally (& unintentionally to some extent🫣) been focused on many other things that have kept me from sharing here:)

(A few noteworthy examples being: my once baby boy graduated from Syracuse University last weekend🤗, another Mother’s Day, my second without either of my “Mamas” has passed. I swam in the “both/and” of deep grief & immense gratitude savoring my 3 adult children, playing cards, laughing, & just enjoying one & another’s company last weekend. I see that grief is still & always will be with me, sneaking out here in candles & lilacs. I am inviting it in, however inconvenient. While savoring my grown children, I’ve packed up & sent off my two “littles” for a sun-filled getaway, & I helped set up our Winnebago in its new home, overlooking the most spectacular view. I can’t wait to write to you from that space!

Of course, in these past weeks, I also saw clients, and made dinners, and walked my dog, and folded laundry, and did some yoga, and dishes, and lots more! (Like every one of you!) I can’t forget to tell you that I’m in the most incredible spaces here: to name just two of many: Writing in the Dark, & Gentle Company) savoring your work, & partaking in craft workshops & poetry gatherings (& replays when I miss). I remain in awe of the talent, generosity & authenticity in this space. I’ve Also been working on creating my very own Workshop that incorporates nervous system healing tools & writing! While yes, I am so excited about this, the down side, is that I might as well be from the 1800’s when it comes to working with the requisite technology. Ah well, I shall persist in messy forward motion.

Lastly, most on point, I want to share that I did go to the forest (as I do on most days), but on one particular day I went for you. In fact, I was happily engrossed in creating the sensory recording for you (as I wrote you on April 20th that I would~this experiential “noticing” & savoring;) so eager was I to show you how this present centered awareness can invite a “felt” sense of safety & open a space, a lightness; invite connection to your “wise mind;” when nearly finished, my phone rang & interrupted the recording!!! Ahhhh🤪😂

Sure, I could just have posted it anyway. After all, borrowing once again from Shihab Nye, (see below) I know I “will never catch up;” (But to what I now ask?) I know I “could tumble any second.” Still, I’ve decided “what to do with my time.” I have decided this is an important project; this being here. This matters. Lots of the other stuff I’ve been up to also mattered, so I’m letting myself off the hook a bit. I decided I would both write you, and try again with the recording. So~I look forward to sharing a sensory recording with you real soon! (With no interruptions :-) Until then, “The Art of Disappearing” by Naomi Shihab Nye:

The Art of Disappearing

Naomi Shihab Nye

When they say Don't I know you?

say no.

When they invite you to the party

remember what parties are like

before answering.

Someone telling you in a loud voice

they once wrote a poem.

Greasy sausage balls on a paper plate.

Then reply.

If they say We should get together

say why?

It's not that you don't love them anymore.

You're trying to remember something

too important to forget.

Trees. The monastery bell at twilight.

Tell them you have a new project.

It will never be finished.

When someone recognizes you in a grocery store

nod briefly and become a cabbage.

When someone you haven't seen in ten years

appears at the door,

don't start singing him all your new songs.

You will never catch up.

Walk around feeling like a leaf.

Know you could tumble any second.

Then decide what to do with your time.

Xo,

Colleen