Wrenching life from the cyber social mad scientist

Lately there has been a spate of Facebook friends putting their page on hiatus and quite honestly it's unwittingly planted seeds of doubt, wonder and possibilities. They've all seemed to come to the conclusion that Facebook comparable to an all consuming fatal disease- one that saps your energy and life force, eats at you, little by little, and leaves you with very little time to live. Or better yet, I could liken the progressively addictive qualities of Facebook to the lobotomized victim of foul play. There must be some mad science performing a global experiment: how to enslave formally productive people to a cyber social program that eventually induces anti-social behaviors towards real-life family and friends.

I admit, I'm a tad bit alarmed by the discovery of the trail of thoughts whispering in my head; those pesky dissenters. I know exactly why those cyber buddies left Facebook, but how did they find the courage? Facebook consumes such a large part of one's day but we reason that it's 'productive' time well spent; we have countless 'a ha' moments from reading so many wonderful quotes, we pass along ingenious recipes and links to a gazillion articles, we share thought provoking photos, we catch up with others' cyber lives... and, and, and... I also take note of the piles of unorganized real life 'stuff' growing around me cluttering my mental space, projects left undone, to-do lists unwritten, house cleaning relegated to a level previously unacceptable, but since there is very little real life socializing taking place, no one will ever see it but family (those folks I spend little time with). Actually, I spend very little time with myself... I'm so connected, I'm quite disconnected from myself. I am indeed addicted.

So begins the detox - the vital journey back to me, the 'Me before Facebook took over 80% of the productive hours of my life outside of work'. I look forward to gaining perspective and checking off those to-do lists. Am I closing my Facebook account? No. Am I logging off indefinitely? No. I'm simply logging in less.

Rain

It's been raining for the past five days. For these dry parts, that's quite a lot. However, I'm grateful.

I'm grateful that I have a roof over head, besides the obvious  it creates a symphony of rain drops and I listen intently because it is a reminder of Mother Natures' presence, grace and power. I also gratefully await the green carpet of fresh, newborn herbs that will soon appear. So many, many things to be grateful for. It's a pleasurable choice after spending a lifetime meticulously finding every possible thing to complain about.

Thoreau always manages to capture our grateful interaction with nature and nature's profound effect on the reverent and thoughtful...

"Some of my pleasantest hours were during the long rain-storms in the spring or fall, which confined me to the house for the afternoon as well as the forenoon, soothed by their ceaseless roar and pelting; when an early twilight ushered in a long evening in which many thoughts had time to take root and unfold themselves. In those driving northeast rains which tried the village houses so, when the maids stood ready with mop and pail in front entries to keep the deluge out, I sat behind my door in my little house, which was all entry, and thoroughly enjoyed its protection...


http://thoreau.eserver.org/walden05.html

The gift of presence, I missed my entire life

“The present is never our goal:
the past and present are our means:
the future alone is our goal.
Thus, we never live but we hope to live;
and always hoping to be happy,
it is inevitable that we will never be so.”

~ Blaise Pascal (1623-1662);
French mathematician & philosopher

Photo from sweet-melis.com

The virtues of living in the present moment...

I've heard it said many times, many ways and then I recently heard it again and it clicked, finally. 

As a dedicated student of life with PhD honors in worry and brooding, the gift of presence was as impossible as the attainment of 'happiness'. Being a double Scorpio - and thus heavily fixed - I needed a stable reality anchored in long term conditions and situations. It did not matter that the reality was a phantom rife with long bouts of depression and perpetual anxiety - it was reliable.

However, the excessive unpredictability of these past three few years has finally brought me to my knees: in the midst of a saturn return and six months after the delivery of my last child, I was fired for the first time in my life (and experienced resulting trauma), I lost the following job within 2 months, had two miscarriages, went through a stressful lawsuit for the wrongful termination, endured the stress of purchasing a home, suffered losses in the stock market, was laid off, attempted loan modification, then a short sale, finally foreclosed and now long term unemployment. Within the last 3 months I've lived in 3 different locations and planned many more living options that fell through.

Needless to say, life has become less than stable and certainly lacks reliability. I can not say what tomorrow brings and I can't believe I'm actually in a state of detachment from hoped for outcomes. Finally 'living in the present' makes sense, It brings peace. It simplifies my mind by filling it with the five senses of each moment - what am I hearing, smelling, seeing, tasting and feeling? I'm paying attention to the thoughts that cross my mind and any time my mind strays to an emotional reaction, or thoughts of the past or future, I redirect them to here and now. I'm paying attention to each syllable my children produce, their body movements I paid so little attention to but want to remember. The gift of presence, being really present, has relieved my depression, decreased anxiety and returned a bit of laughter to my life.

Sure there remains a few things I could feel bad about, but I've given vast amounts of energy to feeling bad all of my life and have repetitively missed the beauty of the forest from being blinded by each tree. Money comes and goes, housing is temporary, resources decrease and despite my best, exhausting efforts, most of these things I've had little control over. Meanwhile, I missed the smiles, the sunsets, the tinkling of my baby's laughter - all the while admiring those people who've made a point of highlighting these very special ingredients of life.

I realized that despite the stress and horror of the past, I could pass away one hour from now while driving to the store. What if my heart fails while I sleep? I would have missed living every waking moment of my entire life.

Tomorrow never comes.

It's always today.

And even today is not guaranteed.

There is only this very moment.

The busy 3 yr old

[Right now, at this very moment there are raindrops falling outside my window, the Bearenstain Bears' wholesome episode is playing on the split screen computer window, my 16 year olds' room where I'm sitting smells like her body sprays because the 3 year old has been trying them all (and I'm smiling thinking about the 16 yr olds' reaction when she returns from her sleepover to find the results of her younger sisters exploration) and now the little one is busting out new dance moves after turning on the radio and within a split second, she's just brought me her box of chocolate covered almonds, closes her eyes and asks me if I can surprise her with the box one more time, I smile, comply and she displays the best surprised look of her life. All while I'm attempting to close out this post. Why miss out on this?]