Synchronicity

Greetings, Dear Ones,

It's been a lovely few weeks learning to love what is, integrating the enneagram insights I spoke of in my last blog post.  What I am beginning to notice (you may know this better than I) is how eager the Spirit is to provide what one needs once the need has become conscious.  Let me explain.

Looking at Type One, the Perfectionist, I have had to admit how desperately I punish myself for sins and imperfections, real and imagined.  And at the same time, how desperately I defend myself against criticism, constructive or gratuitous.  It's a bit like having an internal older brother -- I'll beat myself up with abandon, but don't let anyone else take a swing at me, even if I deserve it!!

So, of course, the first thing I do is troll around looking for clues to how to avoid all this pain.  There are some, most of which are terribly obvious and no less useful for being plain as the nose on one's face.  Detach from your inner critic, take breaks from your work, appreciate other people's gifts and contributions (no, you don't have to do it all).  I'm chagrined to acknowledge how few of these I actually recall from having read the list several times in the last week!  But there is one that has really stuck with me -- one that the Spirit seems to want me to pay attention to.


Type Ones need to give themselves permission and opportunity to play!  How cool is that?  And I knew that once, a long time ago.  But then I signed up to earn another degree, and decided that if I gave in to the desire to do fun things, I'd never get the work done, so I gave up.  But in these past few weeks, I've had all sorts of reminders that playtime is not a luxury to be sacrificed at need, but a necessity to be cultivated.  A few examples --

Last weekend I went on retreat with my wonderful brothers and sisters of the Lindisfarne Community.  In preparation, I began to play my harp again, practicing some hymns and folk tunes that I really love.  I was rusty, but it felt really good to work out my own arrangements, and feel the vibration of the strings and the wood against my chest.  A friend had made a stand for the harp so that it stood at the proper height, and for the first time I got to enjoy what a harp should really sound like.  Playing at the retreat became secondary to the joy of just playing -- playing -- an instrument I've loved for a long time.

And the retreat itself was fascinating.  I felt awkward and inept most of the time.  It's only the third time I've been with this group, but being part of it means the world to me.  I can't tell what the others think of me, and it's so important to make a good impression, and I can't tell a joke to save my life... but Spirit provided relief in some lovely ways.  There was Lilly who, at almost-a-year-old, decided that chewing my cincture during meditation was the most fun ever. There was Yanchy who gave us the chance to stand in the grass and move in the gentle forms of qigong, pointing out that it's ok to let go of all those muscles we use to hold ourselves up and in and 'looking good.'  There was Scott who just gave me a hug for no particular reason on Sunday morning because it was beautiful outside, and being together in the Spirit is a good thing.

And this morning on the radio I heard a conversation about the human need for play, not just for children (although children don't seem to be getting enough genuine free playtime any more), but for adults as well. That's the synchronicity -- when the question becomes conscious, the answers appear.  I need to play more.  Relax that inner critic and enjoy myself.  I actually do enjoy doing my dissertation writing -- who wouldn't love exploring these fabulous saints?  But the tension around getting the chapters approved tends to drain some of the spontaneous joy out of the process.

Today I will hit the road with my husband, and pick up a travelling case for my harp.  And I won't feel guilty, either.  The work we do is good and important, but only in the service of a whole human being.  Today I will attend to other aspects of who I am and who I can become.  Perhaps some of you will play with me, at least in Spirit, and we will thrive together.

Blessings, Beth