Tag Archives: life story

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Past

The past is a piece of work. We have to have it, because without it nothing would work in our human existence, absolutely nothing. We wouldn’t be able to remember how to walk, talk, get dressed, do math or act like a complete idiot. It’s essential to have it, but the key to having a useful past in our lives is to understand the difference between having a past or being the past.

Most of humanity seems to subscribe to the latter, and it has interesting consequences to say the least. When we believe we are the past, it takes on a life of its own, and it seriously limits our abilities in life regarding ourselves and others. We will limit who we are, what we believe to be true of ourselves and what we are capable of based on ‘past experience.’ So in effect we believe that because something has happened in our lives once or even a few times, is equal to saying that it will happen the same way again, so why even bother with it. Welcome to limitation nation, because that’s where that is taking us.

When we become our past experiences in this way, we cut out possibilities for new experiences in our lives piece by piece, and end up in a life that is dictated by habits, rituals, and a particular way to do things, and to think of ourselves and other people. This is the place from which we say and think things that say I, you or life has always been that way. And then we make future predictions based on this information, of course assuming for the past to repeat itself. ‘My past experience with this (person) tells me that x is going to happen here’ is a popular phrase in this world. And by operating from this vantage point about myself and others I try to make life predictable and manageable, because at least I won’t be surprised. And when things actually turn out differently than expected we think of it as the exception to the rule, thus making sure that our past stays in place. We actually use the past to blind us from the present, because we see only past experience and not what is in front of us. And with this we begin to narrow down our ability to experience anything new in our lives, the past will make sure of this with its raised finger of insecurity and fear. ‘Don’t even think of trying this,’ it says, ‘you know what happened last time…’ or ‘What makes you think that you could ever do this?’ and on and on it goes.

Luckily there are those among us who don’t work that way, they in fact have a past, but never learned to become it, and by virtue of doing so remain open to the present and keep learning and finding out new things about themselves and the world on a daily basis. Great achievements in human history came about only because those people did not let their past get in the way of their own evolution and growth. They made mistakes, they failed, they stumbled and fell, but they used what they learned from those past experiences to get better, to improve upon it and to keep going by not repeating that which didn’t work and moving forward into an unknown future. Nothing can keep these people from succeeding. And you know who these people are? Every single one of us as a child when we learned how to achieve the seemingly impossible feat of walking. I’ll let you think about that for a moment.

As we grow older, we add ego identification into the mix, and – bam! – the past becomes us, the story takes over, and with it comes the weight of endless past experiences. As I think of this, it strikes me as absolutely amazing that we fall into this trap and keep teaching each other that this is the way to be human, that this is the only way to have a life – to be a product of the past, be that past and own it. And we don’t stop with ourselves, we then do it to all the people in our lives, how many times has a parent in history looked at their child and said to them that their ‘past experience with them’ tells them that they will fail, do the wrong thing and end up in the same place as before? If all I see is the past, then I cannot see the present and won’t see the person in front of me, but my past image of them instead.

What if we became like children again, and used the past to our advantage by trusting that our mind will do a wonderful job in using the past to let us function well in this world and protect us from harm? I don’t struggle to remember that a hot stove top is hot after finding out, I just do. We naturally trust ourselves with the past in uncountable ways every moment. It works brilliantly well, we don’t have to become the past for it to serve us, there is a natural selection process in place. It makes sure to pull the past data necessary for us to function very well in this world. It is unconscious and reliable, we don’t have to remember to do this. It’s like breathing. Having a past is not only essential, it is incredibly valuable. Let it do its job, stop messing with the process by thinking you are the process. None of us are, we are the creators of past, and we are forgetters of it as well. If we trust the process we don’t have to think about it and the past takes care of itself.

Living with the past is a great thing. It makes for a life of curiosity and discovery. It keeps us safe while letting us play in a world of possibilities. It’s a great servant. But it’s not who we are, unless we choose to believe so.

So with another year coming to an end I invite you to play with this, hang out with your past tonight, have a drink and share some memories. And then say thank you and send it on its merry way to be an aspect of you, and not who you are. And then begin again by creating a new past, one where learning becomes natural and you are not bound by your past, but supported by it. It may just lead to a great story to tell about the past in the future…

Happy New Year.

Cheers,

Ralf

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Projections

I know that ultimately my blog posts and ruminations keep circling around and back to the same. Here is another awareness, another piece of consciousness creeping up on me. I think that this may be one of the reasons I haven’t written lately, because it always seems to be about the same ‘thing…’ I wonder if I may ever reach the point that I have said it in enough ways, discovered and became aware of enough, to be done? Guess I’ll find out.

Projections have really been on my mind ever since we have had our daughter. From the day she was born I became über conscious of my own mind’s thinking which was so full of the memories, stories and assumptions about me, and the world around me. I think this happened because I was in the presence of this pure and unclouded new earthling that was a blank canvas of consciousness. I vowed to myself that I would do anything possible to try and show her the world with as little projection of my world put over it as possible and instead would simply help by describing it and for her to form her own thoughts on things. Going alright thus far, but I have become painfully aware of these projections going on all the time, and in ways I never expected.

As I have been observing other parents and people hanging out with our daughter, I began to notice how much people project themselves onto the little beings. It is completely unconscious and innocent, but it’s happening. I have actually had another father tell me that he was tired of his six-month-old trying to manipulate him into feeling sorry for her. That hit me between the eyes, because this particular person is actually very manipulative, and it was shockingly clear to me that he was looking at his daughter through his unconscious lens and thus projecting his own process onto her. A six-month-old does not know how to manipulate, they barely understand that they are a singular human being, so this was a humdinger for me to listen to. I gently asked him to consider this fact, but he shook his head and stuck to his story. This is what I am talking about. We look at the child, and if we are not awake, we look at us instead. And then we base our actions on our own projections and assumptions. As I am writing this, it hits me how messed up that is.

Being with my daughter has put me on high alert with my own movie projection that is going on. I can see it playing more and more and walk out of the theater to make sure that I see my daughter and not my projection placed on her. I don’t always succeed of course, but when I get caught up in the show, I snap to it and stop whatever it is that I am doing at that moment, and then everything shifts and she comes back into focus. It always feels so good, too. Since I have been at this I have begun to see how my projector is running a lot in my everyday life as well.

These projections are of course simply another way to describe the eternal story telling my ego does in all these different ways, but it has been painful and helpful for me to see it this way. It shows up in the simplest stuff, the other day I started saying to my bride ‘Well, you know how (fill in the blank) makes you think…’ assuming that of course it would make her think exactly the same thing as me. These words actually came out of my mouth?! It was one of those nasty little projections doing its thing. Of course no one but me thinks what or how I think, period. But these little projections make me believe that anyone worthy of my attention would be in the same theater as me, watching the exact same movie with exactly the same reactions to what is going on. It sounds silly, but that is precisely how these projections work and in the process create that very limited world view and experience that we have.

Think about this, and how many times in any given day we do this. Why doesn’t this person see how wrong, stupid, ignorant, silly, annoying, dumb, offensive, insulting, etc. they are? This is a question asked from within the theater looking at someone sitting in an entirely different theater and us wondering why they would ever watch their movie, don’t they see how silly their show is? Come over here and join me in my theater, where we watch it all in Imax 3D, it’s like the real world in here. We show you how it really is, not like your little show over there, 16mm projector, sound all messed up, in black and white. Can’t you see that it is just a movie? Come here, let me show you reality. This shows up in the real world in the form of well meaning advice, criticizing, judging, all out fighting, and eventually, war. And we are all missing that we are being duped by our own show.

Having been aware of this little charade has made my life more exhausting lately, simply because there is so much of this going on, but I am also grateful to see these projections, because it is just another way to catch on to the intricate ways of my ego trying to keep me bought into the idea that I am my story, and that this story is all I am.

So here’s to all of us looking around once in a while to make sure we are not sitting in the theater of our ego projections where we get fed nothing but what we already know in so many different shades of grey (see how I did that?). Let’s get out of our seats, and walk out of the theater to see what is really going on. It may end up being a much better experience, especially since we wouldn’t know what’s next…

Cheers,

Ralf

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Coming and Going

The past seven days have been quite eventful around here. My favorite aunt passed away and one of my best friends welcomed a beautiful baby daughter into the world. Wow. Funny enough, this made me reflect on all the coming and going that is going on all around us, all the time.

My aunt, who became my aunt through my marriage to my amazing bride, was one of my favorite people. She had already suffered from MS for decades when I met her, and she was reduced to control of her left arm and hand, and that in limited fashion. But that was the only limitation that existed in this remarkable woman, for she was working on transcending the limitations of the human body. That is how I experienced her. When she ended up bed ridden for months because of some medical complications, I ended up going to her house weekly to read books to her and have the most amazing conversations about her life, our shared philosophy on things and what it may or may not be all about. This was an incredible time for me, and I hope for her as well. The first time one of the staff nurses came to check on her when I was there, she introduced me as her nephew, as if I had always been. It touched me so much, how she so naturally just thought of me that way and allowed me into her life. It reminded me that at the end of the day we are all human, all on the same planet, all mortal and doing this thing called life. And she chose happiness over self-pity or depression any day. Given her circumstances, this was a wonderful thing for her to choose, and it was not always easy of course.

Many times we would talk about how life was an inside-out affair and that she often would visit places in her mind and go on trips to places of and not of this earth, contemplating life and what may be beyond. She would tell me that doing this was giving her a sense of peace and acceptance of her condition, and a sense and experience of freedom at the same time. She told me so many stories of her childhood and pre-MS life, but they were never filled with regret or bitterness because that was lost. And she always talked about what MS had given her, and she would always say one thing: ‘MS showed me the deep and true love that my husband has (had) for me.’ I will leave it at that.

Within a week of her passing, one of my best friends welcomed a baby girl into his life. This is a man of great heart and compassion, who has loved our little girl since her birth in the sweetest way, and I knew then that he had no idea what would happen to him and his capacity to feel love once he had his own child. When I talked to him yesterday morning, he was in tears of joy in the face of such overwhelming love, we both ended up crying. One second your child is but an idea or concept, and the very next second, it is here, on earth, and we are in its presence. There is a purity of presence in a newborn that transcends all language and concepts and can only be felt. It is the most amazing, wonderful and awe inspiring feeling a human being can feel, I believe. It changes you instantly and completely, and for the rest of your life. And you never want to be without it again. I know that my friend is feeling this right now as well. At first our mind cannot process it, because it is outside of our experience, outside of thought. Outside of the ego identification, that is what makes it so powerful.

Only a parent can fully relate to this particular experience of love of course, but any and all human beings have the built in capacity for this. There never has been or ever will be a human being that is not born in the same state of utter perfection and purity of feeling. We all start out this way, and thus we all know what this state is like, whether we are conscious of it or not. That is reassuring to me. The world is in such a mess, and sometimes these days I feel like an alien visiting earth and observing the level of insanity that people engage in is beyond me, but at the same time I know I am part of it, I am here and I chose and choose to be here. So I vow to do my best to be.

We all come, and we all go. My aunt went to where my friend’s little girl just arrived from. And short of a belief that we all may have about what that ‘somewhere’ may look like or be, we can agree that we come out of someness and return to it at some point. Lest we forget that we are eternally temporary. All of us. Every thing. We tend to remember this during times of coming and going, also known as birth and death, but then we move right back into our daily routine of habitual patterns that are but a mere echo of those feelings of awe and humility in light of the impermanence that is present in those moments. Our lives and planet would be greatly altered if we all decided to live in awareness of this rather than turning from it as we usually do. It’s a gift to be in the presence of those that are coming and those that are going.

So I invite you to spend the rest of just today to look at yourself and all around you like an alien visitor to the planet. Look at your own body as the vehicle you get to use during your visit here, and dare to think about the fact that your departure is always imminent. You may be asked to board your flight back home at any moment. Use the time you have, use it to love, to laugh and enjoy your stay here, for it could be over at any moment.

Goodbye Aunt Ruth, and welcome Maya.

Cheers,

Ralf

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Disappointment

That’s always fun, especially coming from a parent or partner. “I am so disappointed in you” are those words we all love to hear. Even better when they are coming from our own voice inside.

Recently I had a moment of disappointment when I found out that Flying Leap did not make the shortlist for the literary award, at three o’clock in the morning, which ended up being a blessing, because it made me move through the disappointment rather quickly. Having an 11 months old child around means that I have not had a normal night’s sleep for that many months. So it wasn’t unusual that she woke up that early and I woke up as well. Since I knew that the shortlist was to be announced that day in the morning and Ireland is six hours ahead, I figured I’d check real quick. And there was the list, a moment of anticipation and then seeing that it’s not there. Immediate let down, strong opinions on the jurors and then bummage. Since it was in the middle of the night, I quickly moved through it, took a deep breath and let it go. Then I fell asleep again. It wasn’t until the next day that I looked at what happened and all this interesting stuff about disappointment popped up. So here it goes…

The word disappointment hit me first, because I saw it differently than I ever have: Dis-appointment. So I am appointing meaning to something, except it’s a dis-appointment, and the way I read that was that it was wrongly appointed. Totally changed the experience of the word and its effect. We choose to appoint meaning and importance to something or someone, and what should happen or what they should or hopefully will do. Why do we do this? Because appointing meaning to something makes it more important and valuable in some way. And when something is important and valuable, it has more weight, more meaning. It’s an interesting process that takes place here, because obviously we choose this entirely, and what I deem important and valuable may be nothing to the next person of course. So we appoint this meaning and then, we wait. We wait to see whether the person, the outcome will happen as expected and appointed. If it happens exactly the way we wanted, we get to be happy for a while, and then the next thing gets appointed. And if it doesn’t happen, we get to feel the level of dis-appointment that is in direct proportion to the appointment we assigned to it. And then the next appointment happens. It never ends.

The good news is that we choose this, the bad news is that we choose this.

So here is how my dis-appointment about the nomination played out: I had found out that Flying Leap had been nominated by a small library in the Czech Republic of all places. I had no idea how that was possible, how a copy of the book would have made it there in the first place. So I called them and ended up talking to the woman who nominated it. What followed was really curious – her English was limited and she decided not to nominate an obvious contender by a well known author, but wanted to find something that was more unknown and deserved to be made known to a larger audience. So she went ahead and did a search in Google books by entering some specific search criteria, and three books showed up, Flying Leap being one of them. She read the first review that came up (on GoodReads, because Google owns it), which was very positive, then proceeded to look on Amazon and BN.com, and ended up reading a little bit in the book on Amazon, as well as the back cover. She shared that it was clear to her immediately that this was the book that needed to be nominated, it felt right, and it was talking about a subject matter that most people will think about at some point in their lives. So she nominated it. But she never read it. They didn’t and don’t have a copy of it in their library. At that moment I appointed meaning to all this. I chose to believe that this was some divine serendipity at work, that this meant something. Surely this book was going places on its own, and this was it. It would have to make the shortlist, because that fit my appointed story. I didn’t go as far as believing it would win, but my appointment went as far as the shortlist. Only it didn’t, and I got to experience the results of a dis-appointment, an appointment I had chosen. Once I saw that, it was done. Now I am left with a feeling of gratitude for the librarian and the experience of having seen the book nominated for something. Pretty cool. Who knows what may come next, I am not going to appoint anything else to this. I will simply be enjoying what is.

We appoint meaning to stuff all day, all the time, from the smallest to the biggest in our lives. And more often than not we end up with a dis-appointment. But rather than taking an honest look at the fact that we are entirely responsible for this dis-appointment, we build and harbor more and more emotional energy and fallout to these dis-appointments towards others and life in general. All because we refuse or are unable to see that we choose this, that we are the one setting it up in the first place. We create it, we experience it, and we hang on to it. That’s the bad news in this, because if we are willing to play with the notion that we create this dis-appointment we are experiencing, we can no longer hold anyone or anything else responsible for it, and that’s a toughie for the ego-identified life to do. The ego needs someone or something to be responsible for the dis-appointment, it’s part of the cycle. Only then can I create more meaning in my life story, more content that I can add. Dis-appointments are a great addition to the library of our life story. But ultimately it is up to us to choose this. To choose to live in ego-identification and thus with all the dis-appointments that come with it, or not.

I invite you to play with this. Next time you are dis-appointed in yourself, someone else or by someone or something, take a look at what is going on. Trace it back to its origin and you may just find that the seed was planted by you. And you may just end up dis-appointed that you aren’t anymore, but that will be the beginning of the end of ill appointments …

Cheers,

Ralf

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Expectations

We have them all the time. We have them of others, of ourselves, and even of life itself. Add to it the idea that I ‘deserve’ something, and expectation can get out of control pretty quickly. Then it becomes a chain reaction.

I have been seeing this in myself a lot lately. I have been working with someone on a project and, without noticing, formed expectations around the whole thing. I expected certain outcomes and reactions from the other person. I expected them to do exactly what they said they would. Sounds reasonable, I know. I can hear you saying that this is normal, to expect a person to do as they say they will. And it is. But how does it serve me? What does it do for me to expect them to deliver exactly the way they said they would? Let’s check this out a little more.

So someone tells me that they will do something by a certain time and date and I rely on this. I expect them to do exactly as they promised. A lot may depend on them delivering this. Maybe a whole project or jobs are on the line if they don’t deliver. Maybe people could get hurt if they don’t deliver. With all this in mind it is perfectly reasonable if not responsible of me to expect them to deliver, right? Well, yes. What has been bugging me about this is that the expectation I hold in myself creates an uneasiness and weight. It is as though I am walking around in a sort of limbo state, waiting for my expectation to be met. Until that happens, the weight and tension around it is within me and won’t release until the expectation has been met. Then I feel that release and for a moment I feel lighter, relieved and as though things are now on track; except the next expectation shows up almost immediately. And if my expectation is not met, disappointment sets in and I end up with double the weight. But no matter what, the next expectation is right there. Whether it’s positive or negative makes no difference. The weight remains, and it’s one after another. It’s really not very pleasant.

All expectations do is add this weight and tension of anticipation. The limbo feeling. They do not produce any movement or creation. They have me hanging around and if I am waiting for someone to ‘come through’ it’s even worse, because now I am stuck with this feeling until they act. I have placed my peace of mind in their hands. If I have expectations of myself to do something in particular, that really sucks, because now I have the added feeling of me having to deliver. Meet my own expectations. Ever had one of those? I better get that project done by the deadline, I better get that A in the class, I cannot forget my partner’s birthday, every New Year’s resolution, etc. A lot of fun to be had there, right? It sucks. So what is there to do about this?

Let go of all expectations. Every-single-one-of-them. I don’t care what the expectation is about. Expectations are based on made up ideas about made up circumstances that we made up to be of importance to us. I can hear you wondering that without expectations nothing would happen. Expectations motivate us. Sure they can, but all I am asking is what the quality of this motivation is. Expectations are like a straight jacket on creativity. They pretty much define what is supposed to happen by whom and when. It’s limiting. Not having any expectation is opening. I am not saying that we don’t make commitments to things, or that we don’t promise to do the best we can. That’s different. I can have someone promise that they will do something and then simply let that be and see what happens. If they deliver on their promise, great, if not, then they don’t. Their choice, not mine. I get to be with this in any way that I choose. I can create any story around it or simply accept that the situation that is presenting itself as an outcome is the one in front of me and I get to be with it any way I choose to. Period. It circles right back to the idea that we create our life experience moment-to-moment, at all times. No one else does this for us. It is my choice to have expectations or not. I let go of all my expectations with the person I was working with and felt an instant sense of relief and room to breathe. I realized that they were either going to do what they said or not, but that this was simply their choice and had nothing to do with me. I let it go and decided to work with them for as long as it feels right, and when it doesn’t, I will stop.

Haven’t you ever had an expectation unmet, got upset, were disappointed, and created whatever drama around it you felt in line with the ‘size’ of the expectation? Then something happened that would have never been able to happen if your expectation had been met? Let’s say you expected your best friend to show up for dinner and they didn’t, and because of this, you decided to go to the library and work on the paper you’ve been avoiding and ended up meeting a girl/guy that you fell in love with? You expected that plane to be on time and it wasn’t, but because of this you met someone at the bar in the airport who ended up offering you a job? You expected your coworker to email the slides on time, but they didn’t and because of this your presentation sucked, you lost your job but ended up deciding to go back to school, or write that novel you have been thinking about? All I am saying is that expectations are a waste of energy and time. With them shit happens to us, without them, we decide what happens.

Take a look inside and see if you can find any expectations hanging around in the background. See how they feel. Notice the weight and tension they have. Then ask yourself what would happen if you simply let them go. Give it a try, the result may not be what you expected …

Cheers,

Ralf

 

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Memories

We have them. We make them. Without them what would there be?

I often wonder about memories and how important they are to our lives, or not. With my father’s passing this year, the notion of memories and particularly his memory have been on my mind. We are spending Christmas at my mother’s house (still odd to say that) and it has been the first time for me to be back in the place I grew up in since I was here this summer as my dad was getting ready to die. I had been wondering what it would be like to come here and not have him be in this space, but to have only my memories of him. Would it make me sad again, would I miss him, would it be strange to be here without him, my last memory of him sitting in his favorite chair which now sits empty? I honestly had no idea and went into it with an open heart and mind. Well, I am experiencing something I least expected and am frankly a bit unsure with yet, and have a hard time saying on here, because I still have some judgment about it, what are other people going to think? I figure since that usually doesn’t stop me, it shouldn’t now.

I don’t miss him.

As I am reading this, I am still a little bit taken aback by the statement, but that other part in me I like to talk about so much is letting me know reassuringly that this is a very accurate statement about the way things are for me. Ever since I arrived and had this realization, I have been asking myself how this can be. How could I not miss him? How is it possible? Am I a heartless being that has no feelings? Seriously, I was shocked at first. I tried to make myself miss him. I literally walked into his office, sat at his desk and tried to make myself miss him and feel sad. I thought that maybe I was denying myself feeling those feelings because I want to be evolved or something like that. As I muddled with this for the first couple of days it began to occur to me that I may want to leave this alone, simply be with this feeling and see what happens. Interestingly enough, a whole slew of ideas around memories started to show up, and they explained to me what was happening and why it was perfectly natural.

As I say in the intro, we make memories. Let’s think about this sentence for a second. We make them. As in we create them and make them up. Literally. Every moment of our life experience is only the actual experience at that moment and then immediately turns into a memory. Every-single-moment. No exceptions. This is a humdinger, at least to me. Everything in my life outside of the present moment is a memory. In a way, even thoughts about the future are a memory, they’re just a memory about something that may or may not happen. So memories are what create me. Without them I wouldn’t be able to exist. So they are a good thing. They let me remember all the useful things in life, like walking, cooking, talking, driving, remember where home is, and to remember to actually go home, etc. What occurred to me with this insight was that this is how memories are designed  to work for us. They are not meant to limit us, by defining who or what we may be based on them. We are not supposed to be our memories, but to simply have them. Big difference. Huge difference.

This is why I do not miss my father.

I loved him dearly and we had a wonderful time together those last few weeks we spent together, and I am lucky and grateful that I got to have that time and all the times before. What I have realized in being here now is that for as long that I have lived, my father and all other people in my life are a memory whenever I am not present with them. When we are present with each other in some way, in person, over the phone, via Skype or FaceTime (wow, how times have changed), we are hopefully present enough to experience each other fully without memory getting in the way. Any other time, we are experiencing our memory of each other. Realizing this has changed my experience in this place without him. Now that my dad is not here anymore in a physical way, I am experiencing him fully in my memory when I do. It has shifted my reality. I know that he has departed from the physical plane, so I do not expect him to be here anymore, and do not miss him. I would if I expected him to be here. But I am experiencing my memories, and they show up in different ways at different times, and their quality has changed. They are no longer attached to him in the same way as they were when he was alive, they stand on their own and let me have them whenever I choose to. They have taken on another meaning. I know that I will not get to create more memories with him any longer, because he is no longer, but that is ok. It is the natural way of things. We all will depart at some point, period.

With all this I can see more clearly how memories are a wonderful thing to have, but a very limiting thing to be. When we are our memories we will go to great lengths to defend them, justify them, keep them, for if I don’t have those memories, I disappear. People go to war over their memories, because when we have a collective memory to uphold our identity, we will not allow to have them ridiculed, threatened or taken away. When I am my memories, I have to to do what is necessary to keep them, or even make others take them on as well. When I have memories, they aren’t me, so I am not at stake. Total game changer.

As we are in the holiday season, I invite all of us to enjoy our memories as something wonderful that we have. I challenge us all to remember that we aren’t our memories and in the process rediscover the moments we are in right then, so that we don’t miss them for the sake of making a memory. Give yourself and all around you the greatest gift possible, the present of presence.

Cheers,

Ralf

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Life

This is going to be my most personal post yet, I reckon. My wife and I had a daughter in May. My book was nominated for a literary award in Europe. My father passed away last week. Bam. I can see people reading these sentences and going from ‘aww’ to ‘oh no.’ Interesting, because I don’t.

It’s life. Yes, I have gone through these experiences, and I am doing it in a way that some people find and found ‘unusual,’ and others may have thought to themselves that I was nuts in some way. Because I often don’t fit what’s generally expected, normal or even accepted behavior in our current culture. Going through my life experiences the way I choose to most of the time now has truly changed my perspective, and having had these notable events happen to me in the span of five months has shown me that my perspective has taken hold in me and cannot be pushed aside, even by my own ego. And I am glad that this is so. Let me explain.

Before our daughter was born, I had heard numerous stories from other friends who are fathers how having this baby born changes you, how when you see them for the first time, you realize your life is no longer about you, that there is someone else now you have to think of first, and that you are instantly in love the moment you lay your eyes on them. Well, not for this father. Labor was amazing, all natural, no interventions, and I was awed by my wife’s resolve, groundedness and strength. I knew women were strong, but holy crap, that was some kind of strong. Then our daughter suddenly pops out, is placed on my wife, I see her for the first time and my thought was: ‘Holy shit, what the hell is this?!’ No bursting heart, no realizations of any deep kind about anything. Just a big unknown I was looking at. I struggled with this silently. My ego stepped in, trying to make up a positive feeling for me, when that didn’t work, it began to analyze me and concluded that there was something wrong with me. My wife sent me home (it was 5 am), and when I returned a few hours later, she asked me right away what was going on as I walked in the room, and I told her that I didn’t know what to feel for this baby, that I had no sense about it belonging with me. She looked at me and said, ‘me neither.’ Bless her. We laughed and talked about it and decided to trust that we would feel everything in our own way and timing. And we did. We love her until death, she is a hoot, and she has become part of our lives only another parent can understand. But we do not own her. We simply chose each other to share our lives here on earth as child and parent, and we love her, and we will do our utmost to take care of her, and most of all, not fill her head with our own stories of what (her) life should be about. But that it is her choice, always.

So then my father dies. We didn’t live close to each other, so we would talk on the phone or skype, and we knew how to have distance without creating one. In the past few years he had joked more frequently that he was tired of living and really wanted it to be over. One time last year he and I were talking and I asked him if he’d be willing to make a deal with me about this; that he would tell me when he was done joking about it and was serious. He agreed. The call came this August. He had developed some more issues with his prostate cancer, nothing that couldn’t be handled, but on the call he said to me, ‘I am serious, son. I am done. No more.’ It was beautiful how clear and peaceful he was about it. Within a couple of weeks he lost 40 pounds and went downhill fast. I flew to see him and hung out with him for two weeks, talking, laughing, having fun and reminiscing about life and what it is and isn’t about. We talked about his upcoming departure, and that was good too. No fear on his part, more curiosity, if anything he was worried how my mom would do without him. He bounced back for those two weeks and everything I wanted to say and share with him I did. Except my daughter, which was alright he said. After I left he plateaued for another two weeks and was gone within another two. On his terms, and in his way. And I was with him all the way. And now that is complete.

I have been through both of these life changing experiences, and I felt stuff. The whole time I did. From fear, to worry, occasional self-judgment, joy, sadness, loneliness, you name it. Point is, I felt those things, but I never became them. My perspective on life in general and mine in particular have aligned. The perspective that my life is not mine to own, but mine to experience, and that I choose that experience every moment of it. Nothing can change that anymore. Not the birth of my child, not the passing of my father. They represent to me the eternal rhythm of the cosmos (or whatever you may call it) breathing in and out. There is nothing and no thing that is permanent. First we forget this, and then we try everything we can to not remember this. We lose our perspective on life. We get sucked into our story, and we will fight until death to maintain it. And we tell each other all the time that our stories are real and that who and what we are as a result is not only ok, but justified.

The most interesting challenge for me in going through these experiences this year thus far has not been my own feelings, it has been having to listen to other people’s attempts to try and share in them by coming from their limited story perspective. People were well intentioned, I know that, but most of them were coming from their story, and from reiterating the agreed upon collective stories around the joys (and trials) of becoming parents, and losing a parent. I get it. I can appreciate their honest wish to share and to support. But most of it was not helpful, because it wasn’t real. It was a story. The few people that were simply in a space of being with me, asking what they could do, without expectation, were the helpful ones. They did not have to say anything, their presence was what was helpful. Throughout all of this, my perspective remained solid. I will feel what I feel and keep moving through life. I am in a great place about having a daughter, and I am in a great place about my father having gone back to swim in the quantum soup. I am in the unknown as it is. That’s life.

We come in with a breath and we leave with a breath, how beautiful is that? So I wish for you that you can gain your perspective on your life that lets you experience it in all its facets, without having to become trapped in it. No matter what you are going through, remember that you are going through it, but you aren’t it, you are the experiencer. You get to choose what that looks like, no one else, again and again.

Cheers,

Ralf

P.S.: I am not allowed to publicly talk about the literary award nomination until November, when the list is announced.

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Change again

Funny how these come in twos sometimes…

It occurred to me that I didn’t write about the more natural way to be with change, at least as far as I understand it at this point. Like everyone else, I grew up learning that a certain constant in life was not only good, it was necessary. Children need a certain constant or at the very least rhythm in their day-to-day lives to function well. But that does not mean that they don’t handle or hate change, as a matter of fact, they live in a world of eternal change. By virtue of learning new things every single moment for the first decade and more, change is built in. The underlying structure we as parents provide serves a foundation for them to build their experience on. Ideally anyways. And then some parents go nuts, but that’s another blog post…

Point here is that when I was a kid, I learned that there was a foundation I had in my life and with my parents that was a given. It was there. Call it love, support, acceptance, structure, it was a deep sense of being safe. From that it was easy to go out and play and learn, and to be in change. This began to shift as my ego identification took over slowly but surely, and interestingly enough with that came more resistance to change. It turned into a threat to the status quo. It got hard to change. I didn’t welcome it (as much) anymore. All because I had become my story and my ego id didn’t allow for much change, unless it was in control of it.

In the midst of that shift, my grandmother always reminded me of the fact that change was actually a good thing. Sometimes when we saw each other, she would look at me with a warm smile and say, ‘You are going pregnant with something, I can see it.’ I always knew what she meant, and she was always correct. She saw that I was moving into and through a change, that it was on its way. By saying this she reassured me. She acknowledged that she could ‘see’ something, that it was coming and that it was natural most of all. That was so good to hear and feel. Then she would talk about how exciting it would be to find out what that change may be about, and when it would be ready to materialize. This created a different context and feeling around change for me. I began to notice on my own when I would get into a shifted state if you will, it’s the kind of feeling when we feel out-of-sorts, not only for a day but continuously for a period of time. I am sure that you have experienced this as well. It’s a funny feeling, you can’t quite pin it on something, but it is definitely there, the sense that something is off, something is going to happen, to shift. That is the feeling we have when we naturally move through change and let it do its thing.

We know how to be with change, it’s built in. Getting caught up in ego identification messes it up. When we get stuck in our story of perpetuation, change is an uncomfortable necessity at best and a threat to our existence at worst. It has to be. But when we step out of the story and begin to be in our lives, change becomes a companion on our walk through life. It’s always there, and depending on where we put our focus, we see it in little things all around us, or in the big shifts in our world. Maybe it’s a job change, or we move to another place, we welcome a child into our lives, we get married, divorced, someone passes, we win the lottery, no matter what it is, we are simply with the change, knowing that we are changing continuously as well. Our preferences, tastes, thoughts shift and change all the time. We are not the same person we were yesterday, even if we desperately try to hold on to the story and image we have crafted. Change is there. Not living as our story simply makes it easier to be change(d). We are change(d), all the time. We become change. We can be the change we want to see in the world. I love this saying, and I didn’t quite understand it until last week when I had lunch with a friend.

I used to think that this meant we would have to change to be the person we want everyone else to be (you know, loving, kind, benevolent, etc.) and then go out there and try to change the world to be like that. Quite the tall order. And actually quite arrogant. Missed it entirely. During my conversation with the friend over lunch he talked about this while quoting a spiritual person who had been asked by someone how to change the world, and had answered, ‘go home.’ My friend shared how the presenter ended up explaining what he meant by that and it lead directly to the challenge with the above saying about change. When we live our life outside of our story and end up being in momentness, more here, our whole person and being changes (continuously). Thus our world changes all the time, the very world we live in changes. Because we all may like to believe that we live on the same planet, but we do not, and we most certainly all live in our own world. So when I change, my world changes. And by virtue of this, the worlds of those I come in contact with change. However little, they change. Bingo. So elegant, effective and simple.

So here’s to having some fun with change. Challenge yourself to see it in you, and all around you. Notice when something is shifting in you and pay attention. Get enough rest, eat well, and exercise. You may just be going pregnant with something.

Cheers,

Ralf

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The Unknown

Somehow that word has gotten a bad rap. Most people shudder at the unknown. It’s the space in life no one likes to go to, or have to deal with. And most certainly won’t invite into their lives.

It reminds us of our childhood fears maybe, remember when we stood at the top of the basement stairs, maybe at the Grandparents’ house, and were looking into the dark abyss below? It was a scary and dark place with odd smells and weird sounds. It was the great unknown. Then there was the first summer camp or overnight stay at someone’s house, so many unknowns in that as well. When we start out on this planet as babies, we do not fear the unknown, because we are unknown. We literally know nothing. We are a blank and filled bundle of focused consciousness shoved into a human body. We don’t even know that we have a body in the very beginning. We do not know where we end and something else begins. Nothing is known to us. But that’s not an issue then, because we are a simply (a) being. In being there is nothing but the unknown. Think about this for a moment. Whenever we are completely present in a moment, we are not thinking about the future or the past, we are here and now, now here or nowhere. If you have ever looked into someone’s eyes with utter and complete love, you know that sense of momentness. Nothing matters and nothing in particular is on our minds, there is no room for anything to distract us. We know nothing, except that we are here. We are in the unknown.

Feels pretty great, doesn’t it? And then we go and limit our ability to experience this feeling, because we thrust ourselves back into ‘reality’ and start up our good ole ego identification to get back to the busyness of thinking about the future or the past. That is what we know. To plan, to prepare, to anticipate, to plot, to assume, to hope, to worry, to fear, to wonder, and on and on it goes. It is such a hard existence. We spend almost the entirety of our lives doing this, and by doing so are so desperately trying to hide from the unknown. It freaks us out and scares us to no end. The cosmic joke is on us though. While we spend all this time and energy to try and avoid the unknown, the Universe, God, Allah, the Great Nothing or whatever you choose to believe in is laughing heartily. They are laughing because we are always living in the unknown, whether we believe it or not, and there is nothing to fear. Truly.

We are all made of the same wonderful and mysterious stuff, we are all swimming in the same quantum soup, making ourselves up as we go along. And then we go and keep repeating the same thoughts and patterns endlessly to feel as though we know who we are and what we are doing. This way we may have a sense of control and know who we are. But what do we really know? If we look at it we quickly discover that all we know are our own thoughts and their repetitious patterns. It’s known, it’s reliable and most of all, very comfortable. Especially in opposite to the unknown. But we are always living in the unknown. Our habitual thoughts simply give us the illusion of knowing of what’s to come. We wake up and know what we are going to do, we go through our days with the idea that we know what’s next. And if we ever even feel a sense of the unknown ahead, we try to get as much information as possible on what may lie ahead so that we can regain a sense of knowing. The truth of the matter is of course that we never know what lies ahead. We cannot and we will never be able to. Period.

So what to do then? Take a look at it. We never know what lies ahead, we only believe that we do. And we like to believe that, because we are scared shitless otherwise. Why? Because in ego identification we have to try and know as much as possible about everything – in the past, the present and the future. The ego exists only in the concept of our lives as a time horizon event, we are born, we do some shit and we die. Within that short time frame the ego would like to do two things: Be in total control and hide from the fact that it is temporary. This way, the unknown becomes the most fearful experience. Conversely, the unknown is the space where control and permanence go out the window. It’s like the antidote to the ego id life. Once we are willing to step out of the ego, the unknown becomes a natural way of living. And it becomes the preferred way to live. Everyday I marvel at the fact that I have no clue what is going to happen, ever. I wake up and have no idea what will happen, or rather, all I have is an idea, and that can change at a moment’s notice. I plan for things I want to do, and I try to organize for what I have planned, but always knowing that in fact none of it may happen, that every moment of my life is an unknown. It is a lot of fun. Nothing is set, all can happen and you never know what that may be, but that we can know. Knowing that our lives are unknown is deeply reassuring. At first it’s like jumping into the pool on a hot summer’s day, a bit jarring and then immediately refreshing and comfortable, and then we simply float in the cool water and let it carry us. Much like the unknown. And then we realize that there is nothing to fear.

So go ahead and give it a shot. Start your day, plan and anticipate, but keep an expectant smile in the back of your mind that you really have no clue what is actually going to happen. That you are walking into the unknown. That everything could work out the way you anticipated or planned, or not at all. You never know …

Cheers,

Ralf

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The Impersonal Life

We take so much shit personally in life. Seriously, it’s out of control. We are all prone to doing this, just think about it.

We will actually sit in traffic and wonder why it is happening to us. We will get to the check out at the store, all the lines are busy, and we will think that this always happens to us, especially when we’re in a hurry. Bad weather ruins our grill party, flight delayed, car accident, cut off in traffic, dropping a plate full of food, someone else late for a meeting, someone does not return our call/email, guess what, it’s personal, it’s against me, and it sucks. Talk about full ego identification. May as well call it the ‘life is about me’ syndrome. Funny how that sneaks up on us and sets up shop in our consciousness. Once that has happened, life is a very personal affair. Everything is in some way about me, me, me. I know, I say that a lot, but that’s just how it is. In the ego id life, that’s how things come out, that’s what it’s all about. In all these different ways.

One of those ways is to take shit personally. As listed above, most of it doesn’t hold up as a personal issue for very long when looked at with a bit of perspective, meaning whenever we are not in the middle of it. Then it is blatantly clear that traffic is just traffic, lines are lines, etc. But when we are in the middle of it, it sure looks personal. I have taken it personally when a flight on one of my business trips was delayed because of a tornado outbreak in the Midwest. I actually sat at the airport, exhausted and wanting to get home, and felt sorry for my ‘personal bad luck’ that these tornadoes had to hit when and where they did, so that this would happen to me. Not a thought about all those poor people in the middle of that. As I am writing it, it sounds horrible, but at the time it made sense. Notice something? When we take shit personally, it’s seriously about me. We become self-absorbed monsters who couldn’t care less about anyone else. It may only last a few seconds or minutes, or even a lifetime, but while we are in this state, we are not very caring and loving people. Because this shit is about me, damn it, and who looks out for me but me?

I used to think that the alternative to this is to try and think of others before me. To focus on other people’s needs and make my own second. This way, I figured, I would be a good person who will do good things for people. After that I could focus on my own stuff. It was as if thinking of others would make me more selfless and force me to not think of me first, and also not take things personally. After all, if I am at the airport with my flight delayed, I would divert my personal frustration immediately to think about the poor people who may have gotten hurt or lost their homes. My flight delay loses its drama. There is nothing I can do for those people at the moment, but thinking about them and commiserating may help in some way at least. Only, it’s still about me.

I know that this is the moment where I lose some people, because it seems so awful to say that thinking about others is about me. But it is. The only thing that happens here is that we shift the focus of our very personal thinking away from ‘me’ and onto others, but in doing so, my ego id remains fully intact, because now I get to feel good about ‘me’ since I am a good person who cares about others. Others now will see me this way. I can see me this way. I care about others and put them first. That’s the kind of person I am. A good person. And others should know this and recognize this. I give of myself to serve others, others are more important than me. Do you see what’s happening here? It’s still about me. Granted, I may actually help someone else, but it’s not freely shared, it’s given from me to someone else. Strings attached, and if only to be thanked or seen as a good person.

There is a whole other way. It’s the way that is a natural byproduct of living with as opposed to as my ego, or outside of ego identification. Life gets increasingly impersonal. Quite literally, shit simply happens, and we actually choose it to be shit or not. The choice thing again. When we live life more in the here and now, we see choices before us all the time, in all kinds of ways. And if I choose my life experience moment to moment, then why choose to take what happens personally? It actually isn’t, it’s just life happening and unfolding in front of our eyes. It is what it is. Then we choose to turn it into a personal matter, or not. The former leads to all of the above, the latter gives us the impersonal life. We are participating actively in our lives, but we aren’t it. We feel what we feel, but we aren’t the feeling. We experience what we experience, but we aren’t the experience. We are the creator and observer of all this. Life becomes very intoxicating and interesting when lived that way. We still get to do it all, without having to be it all. We can share whatever we choose to share with others freely, and expect nothing in return. We help because we feel compassion, not commiseration. Our lives have a different quality when they are impersonal to us. There is more space and freedom, and more of a sense of sharing in it all, with everyone else. Totally different motivation for one’s own existence. Life is a more expansive affair that we share in, as all others do, and we get to choose our participation in it. Moment to moment, again and again.

Our lives are just a story, and we are the creator of this story. When we think we are the story, shit is personal. When we are not the story, there is no shit and it’s impersonal.

Next time you take something personally, pretend to zoom up above your head and survey the situation you’re in, or look at it as if you were weeks in the future looking back, anything that will help you create some space between you and the drama at hand. Then see what happens. You may just find yourself in a space of compassion for that poor schmuck taking it all so seriously and personally and have a lighter sense about it all.

Cheers,

Ralf