Just when I thought I was going to really “wing it” through Phase I, I realized that part of me got left behind in the Reception Battalion (note the lag time between my last entry and this one)! I imagine it as sort of my own version of that old Lily Tomlin/Steve Martin movie, All of Me.
For those of you who haven’t seen it (or don’t remember it), the story goes that Lily Tomlin’s character is dying and she gets some Tibetan meditation master to transfer her body into that of a younger, beautiful woman. It doesn’t quite work out and her soul is transferred into the body of her lawyer (who she doesn’t like), whose soul remains in his body. As it happens, Edwina [Lily Tomlin] has control about the right half of Roger's [Steve Martin] body, his soul controls the left. They both struggle to get her soul into the right body, but along they way they find they both have conflicts to solve.
I am struggling to get my (full) soul into Phase I – but obviously I have some conflicts to resolve.
So that Mess Kit I talked about in my last entry needs some additional…Mess…I guess (Oh, boy – here comes the Dr. Seuss version of Break Up Boot Camp):
I daresay, that’s quite a mess!
Why, yes it is- a mess, I guess.
Could it be from all that stress?
More or less, I must confess.
But I diverge…Sorry. But perhaps that gives you, dear readers, the opportunity to see my mind truly at its most authentic (which in lay terms means: ALL OVER THE PLACE!).
Ahh- and that brings me to where I know I need to be to get my mind, body and soul fully into Phase I: THE PRESENT.
Over the years (and years, and years) I have learned that the most important place to be is the present. This has been an on-going struggle for me to achieve. There are, obviously, times when I can (and have been) present, so I know that it is possible. However, I have trouble staying there, particularly in times of stress (oh, yes, I mean like the stress I choose to live in when I am dealing with a break up).
Back to the Mess Kit. And, the additional Mess. Interestingly, added to my Mess Kit this week are two books. One that is required reading for my upcoming Grad School classes entitled, Turning the Mind Into an Ally (by Sakyong Mipham) and the other, Eckhart Tolle’s new taking-the-country-by-storm book, A New Earth. Now mind you, I began reading the first book because it’s a requirement. I didn’t want to believe that A New Earth is a requirement either, but I came to find last night that it is (for me, in the here and VERY now).
I was having trouble getting into A New Earth. A friend of mine told me “you have to read this book” and told me I had to come over to her house so she could give me a copy (this was several weeks ago). So I got the book and I started reading but I was having trouble getting through the first few pages. So, I left it to sit beside my bed with the other I’ll-read-it-when-I-am-inspired-to-do-so books.
I ran into my friend yesterday and she asked me if I was reading the book and I said, “oh, well, you know – I’ve been so busy and, well, I’m actually having trouble getting through the first chapter” (I don’t think I confessed first few pages). We continued talking and I told her I was still having a hard time with the break up thing and that the pain I was experiencing felt very difficult to go through.
“It feels very deep,” I said, “very old. Like it’s in my DNA.”
“Skip to Chapter Six,” she instructed. “Just skip to Chapter Six and Chapter Seven. It’s all about the ‘Pain-Body’.”
So yesterday afternoon, I opened to the Table of Contents of Tolle’s book and noticed Chapter Five was entitled The Pain-Body. So I thought perhaps I should start there. And you know what? She was right. It’s EXACTLY what I am going through. This crazy negative thought-feeds negative emotion-feeds negative thought-feeds negative emotion-feeds thought-feeds negative emotion-feeds negative thought-feeds negative emotion – are you getting the gist?!
Obviously when I am in that nutty-toxic spin cycle, I am not present (this is also what Mipham’s book talks about as well), and I am all about ME. It becomes an icky-ego thing that keeps me separate from the good, healthy part of me, others and God.
This is not new information, but it is the information that I need at this present time and the way it is presented is in a way I need to hear anew.
So I am, at present, going to continue trudging through Phase I and remaining present for it, regardless of how remedial I feel. Maybe I’ll opt for some easy reading, like Dr. Seuss Goes to Boot Camp:
One Phase
Two Phase
Red Phase
Blue Phase…
Monday, May 26, 2008
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Be All That You Can Be: Part I of Phase I
Almost one month has passed since the conception of Break Up Boot Camp and I think I am FINALLY moving into Phase I (known in Army Boot Camp as the “Red Phase” or “Patriot Phase”. I am not sure why, but for MY purposes, I am defining it as pledging allegiance to the healing and health of my well-being).
Remember the old army slogan, “Be all that you can be”? Well, Phase I – or Break Up Boot Camp’s “Patriot Phase” - begins, my friends, with just that: Being all I can be. Which means keeping the focus on ME: my feelings, my thoughts, my motives, my behaviors and my actions. It means paying attention to what I want, what I need, what is acceptable to me and what is not. It means being compassionate with myself and respectful to myself.
It means that Inner Drill Sergeant (IDS) is at it daily yelling: “GIVE ME TWENTY!” And though it certainly wouldn’t hurt me to do twenty sit-ups or twenty push-ups (though in all honesty, I’d be lucky to pump out five REAL push-ups), the “twenty” (or “TWENTY!”) refers to twenty things I’m grateful for and/or twenty prayers and/or affirmations. Personally, I think standing in front of a mirror and telling myself that “I am beautiful, talented and worthy of love and abundance” is just as hard (if not harder) as doing five push-ups. But when the IDS yells, I hup-to! *In Army Boot Camp, I’d be shouting at the top of my lungs:“YES, DRILL SERGEANT!”, so I think I’m on the right track here.
Phase I in Army Boot Camp also includes the Gas Chamber: where you spend some time hacking and coughing and, from what I can gather feeling pretty sick. You have to take off your mask twice (I think) and state your name, rank and serial number and while you are doing this you’re supposed to keep your eyes open. I equate this to going through those few horrible moments - sometimes an hour here or there still – in the midst of Break Up Boot Camp where I am thinking about HIM and feeling overwhelmed by the pain and sorrow, and I have to take a big, deep breath and say (sometimes out loud): “I am okay. I am right here in this moment. God will drop me in a better place than he found me. Hold tight. This too shall pass.” Eyes opened.
Rifles are also distributed during this phase in Army Boot Camp. BTW: It’s NEVER called a gun. It’s ALWAYS a rifle. When you receive your rifle, you learn how to hold it, point it, take it apart, clean it, put it back together, and repeat and repeat and repeat, ad nauseum! Same thing in Break Up Boot Camp, but I’m not calling it a rifle. It’s a MESS KIT.
The Mess Kit is an arsenal of armor that is used to “protect and serve”. It contains this Break Up Soldier’s ammo: Inspirational quotes; Books and CD’s that offer spiritual nourishment; CD’s with songs that buoy me up and instill joy; a “to do” list to remind me what to do when I feel scared, sad or when I feel like I am losing my way; a list of friends and phone numbers for those outreach calls that are, oh – sometimes sooo hard to make; and anything else that totally floats my boat and comforts, supports and/or propels me in a positive direction. I know exactly what’s in my Mess Kit. I just have to remember to use it, put it back so I can reach for it whenever I need it - and repeat. And repeat and repeat. Ad nauseum.
This concludes Part I of Break Up Boot Camp’s “Patriot Phase.” I am grateful to be here, as hard as it feels sometimes. I am glad to be out of the “wading” phase and into action!
* I have been told that dedicating work to someone or something other than oneself often allows you to follow through with it more readily, so I am dedicating my adventures through Phase I of Break Up Boot Camp to my friend, Pvt. Danny M. who is in actual Army Boot Camp as I write this, and to the gal in Minny whose husband up and left just recently. I don’t know you – but I am right there with you!
Remember the old army slogan, “Be all that you can be”? Well, Phase I – or Break Up Boot Camp’s “Patriot Phase” - begins, my friends, with just that: Being all I can be. Which means keeping the focus on ME: my feelings, my thoughts, my motives, my behaviors and my actions. It means paying attention to what I want, what I need, what is acceptable to me and what is not. It means being compassionate with myself and respectful to myself.
It means that Inner Drill Sergeant (IDS) is at it daily yelling: “GIVE ME TWENTY!” And though it certainly wouldn’t hurt me to do twenty sit-ups or twenty push-ups (though in all honesty, I’d be lucky to pump out five REAL push-ups), the “twenty” (or “TWENTY!”) refers to twenty things I’m grateful for and/or twenty prayers and/or affirmations. Personally, I think standing in front of a mirror and telling myself that “I am beautiful, talented and worthy of love and abundance” is just as hard (if not harder) as doing five push-ups. But when the IDS yells, I hup-to! *In Army Boot Camp, I’d be shouting at the top of my lungs:“YES, DRILL SERGEANT!”, so I think I’m on the right track here.
Phase I in Army Boot Camp also includes the Gas Chamber: where you spend some time hacking and coughing and, from what I can gather feeling pretty sick. You have to take off your mask twice (I think) and state your name, rank and serial number and while you are doing this you’re supposed to keep your eyes open. I equate this to going through those few horrible moments - sometimes an hour here or there still – in the midst of Break Up Boot Camp where I am thinking about HIM and feeling overwhelmed by the pain and sorrow, and I have to take a big, deep breath and say (sometimes out loud): “I am okay. I am right here in this moment. God will drop me in a better place than he found me. Hold tight. This too shall pass.” Eyes opened.
Rifles are also distributed during this phase in Army Boot Camp. BTW: It’s NEVER called a gun. It’s ALWAYS a rifle. When you receive your rifle, you learn how to hold it, point it, take it apart, clean it, put it back together, and repeat and repeat and repeat, ad nauseum! Same thing in Break Up Boot Camp, but I’m not calling it a rifle. It’s a MESS KIT.
The Mess Kit is an arsenal of armor that is used to “protect and serve”. It contains this Break Up Soldier’s ammo: Inspirational quotes; Books and CD’s that offer spiritual nourishment; CD’s with songs that buoy me up and instill joy; a “to do” list to remind me what to do when I feel scared, sad or when I feel like I am losing my way; a list of friends and phone numbers for those outreach calls that are, oh – sometimes sooo hard to make; and anything else that totally floats my boat and comforts, supports and/or propels me in a positive direction. I know exactly what’s in my Mess Kit. I just have to remember to use it, put it back so I can reach for it whenever I need it - and repeat. And repeat and repeat. Ad nauseum.
This concludes Part I of Break Up Boot Camp’s “Patriot Phase.” I am grateful to be here, as hard as it feels sometimes. I am glad to be out of the “wading” phase and into action!
* I have been told that dedicating work to someone or something other than oneself often allows you to follow through with it more readily, so I am dedicating my adventures through Phase I of Break Up Boot Camp to my friend, Pvt. Danny M. who is in actual Army Boot Camp as I write this, and to the gal in Minny whose husband up and left just recently. I don’t know you – but I am right there with you!
Thursday, May 8, 2008
The Waiting (and the Wading) is the Hardest Part!
Apparently, "real Army basic training" is broken down into three phases: Phase I (Red Phase), Phase II (White Phase), and Phase III (Blue Phase). Before you're allowed to begin Phase I, however, you have to spend time in Purgatory, officially known as The Reception Battalion. Which is exactly where I think I have been. Some say that the Reception Battalion is the hardest part of Army Boot Camp. I am hoping it is the hardest part of Break Up Boot Camp as well.
It is said that the Reception Battalion gives you a chance to practice waiting...and waiting...and waiting. When you get bored with waiting in Army Boot Camp it is said that you'll be allowed to practice waiting some more. I suppose, similarly, it can be said that when you get in enough pain wading (through tears, fears and sorrows) in Break Up Boot Camp, you get to continue wading it out (in pain) some more.
The good news, is that there is always an end to the Reception Battalion – both in Army Boot Camp and in Break Up Boot Camp.
And I think I’m nearing the end of the Reception.
While in Army Reception Battalion, you get your shots, process your paperwork, you’re issued your uniforms, and that very favorite of all -- the haircut (you even get to pay for it yourself). Between times, you'll go to chow (three times per day), and you'll wait. You'll know your group is getting close to getting out of Purgatory when the Drill Sergeants start to notice you.
So I’ve received my shots (“God Shots” – i.e. little wake up calls from Marianne Williamson’s latest book and from some of those “Anonymous” meetings I attend), processed my paperwork (countless journal entries, and gratitude lists – for what I have and what I don’t), been issued my new uniform (it’s that constant look of self-assurance I am wearing, whether I actually feel that way or not), and am planning a new haircut when I get my next paycheck (I once knew someone who used to get her haircut every time she went through a transitional period, and she claimed it gave her a new perspective. Hmmm…). I’ve been “chowing” down on spiritual texts and practices and drinking in all that my friends offer in the way of love, support and guidance.
I’ve had a couple of “aha!” moments and some complete minutes of serenity. I’m even considering making my bed (hospital corners included), which I’ve neglected to do for the past two and a half months (how's that for telling on myself?!).
Not wanting to jump the ol’ rifle, but definitely feeling a sense of impending movement, I think the wade is almost over.
Look out, Phase I: I’ll be there soon!
*Shoot! I forgot to get the name of the person who wrote the stuff about actual Boot Camp! Sorry for the plagerism. Just hope it doesn’t lead to a dishonorable discharge – yikes!
It is said that the Reception Battalion gives you a chance to practice waiting...and waiting...and waiting. When you get bored with waiting in Army Boot Camp it is said that you'll be allowed to practice waiting some more. I suppose, similarly, it can be said that when you get in enough pain wading (through tears, fears and sorrows) in Break Up Boot Camp, you get to continue wading it out (in pain) some more.
The good news, is that there is always an end to the Reception Battalion – both in Army Boot Camp and in Break Up Boot Camp.
And I think I’m nearing the end of the Reception.
While in Army Reception Battalion, you get your shots, process your paperwork, you’re issued your uniforms, and that very favorite of all -- the haircut (you even get to pay for it yourself). Between times, you'll go to chow (three times per day), and you'll wait. You'll know your group is getting close to getting out of Purgatory when the Drill Sergeants start to notice you.
So I’ve received my shots (“God Shots” – i.e. little wake up calls from Marianne Williamson’s latest book and from some of those “Anonymous” meetings I attend), processed my paperwork (countless journal entries, and gratitude lists – for what I have and what I don’t), been issued my new uniform (it’s that constant look of self-assurance I am wearing, whether I actually feel that way or not), and am planning a new haircut when I get my next paycheck (I once knew someone who used to get her haircut every time she went through a transitional period, and she claimed it gave her a new perspective. Hmmm…). I’ve been “chowing” down on spiritual texts and practices and drinking in all that my friends offer in the way of love, support and guidance.
I’ve had a couple of “aha!” moments and some complete minutes of serenity. I’m even considering making my bed (hospital corners included), which I’ve neglected to do for the past two and a half months (how's that for telling on myself?!).
Not wanting to jump the ol’ rifle, but definitely feeling a sense of impending movement, I think the wade is almost over.
Look out, Phase I: I’ll be there soon!
*Shoot! I forgot to get the name of the person who wrote the stuff about actual Boot Camp! Sorry for the plagerism. Just hope it doesn’t lead to a dishonorable discharge – yikes!
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Mayday! Mayday! Mayday!
For those of you who may not be familiar, Mayday is the international distress code word for a situation in which a vessel, aircraft, vehicle, or person is in grave and imminent danger and requires immediate assistance. Examples of "grave and imminent danger" in which a mayday call would be appropriate include fire, explosion or sinking. Or major AWOL from Break Up Boot Camp. MAJOR AWOL!
I attempted two Mayday calls this morning, but was met on one call with a voice mail message and the other with a husband who was taking a group of 150 students to a theatre in downtown Chicago for a production of Sweeney Todd and couldn’t find his own ticket. Cheerily, I told him I would call his wife on her cell phone and upon hanging up, promptly…did not.
Now, past experience has told me “CALL YOUR FRIENDS. DO NOT – and I repeat – DO NOT PICK UP THE PHONE AND CALL HIM!” It’s a hideous compulsion. Why would you want to call someone who…okay, never mind! This is about ME. This is about MY healing. NOT him. Like I said: it’s a hideous compulsion. I wanted to call him and I didn’t want to call him and I let the “I want to call him” side take over because…because…going back to what’s familiar and comfortable is my default mode (next to crying, which I defaulted to today as well) and unless I stock my support arsenal to overflowing and sit on my flippin’ hands and pray my butt off, I will – oh, yes! – sabbotage myself! Ahh- the real enemy: ME!
I have barely dirtied my fitigues in Break Up Boot Camp and already I’m ahead of myself and fighting in the trenches. With a tissue as a weapon. Oooh – intimidating, I know. An imminent slow, painful death, to be sure.
So, yes: I phoned him. I won’t go into details. The call was short. Pointless. And just spun me so far out of myself that I am no better off than I was when I started writing last Sunday’s entry.
I need help. Mayday! Mayday! Mayday! Fun Fact: “The call is always given three times in a row to prevent mistaking it for some similar-sounding phrase under noisy conditions, and to distinguish an actual mayday call from a message about a mayday call”(Wikipedia). Facts aside, I CLEARLY - no similar-sounding phrase about it - need help. I can’t spend every Sunday a big mess. I must do something different. “Really?,” you ask in that sarcastic voice I know you’re using right now (don’t deny it. I know most of the people who are reading this blog).
So, yes. Something different. I was actually formulating an idea about that this week that was going to be the entry I’d write tonight, but I AWOL’d instead. So back to square one. I have a feeling I will be in Basic Training for awhile, so no worries if you choose to not check in to the blog for awhile. It may be the Break Up rendition of Ground Hog Day. Or, maybe you’ll check back next week and we’ll all be surprised.
I hope so.
I attempted two Mayday calls this morning, but was met on one call with a voice mail message and the other with a husband who was taking a group of 150 students to a theatre in downtown Chicago for a production of Sweeney Todd and couldn’t find his own ticket. Cheerily, I told him I would call his wife on her cell phone and upon hanging up, promptly…did not.
Now, past experience has told me “CALL YOUR FRIENDS. DO NOT – and I repeat – DO NOT PICK UP THE PHONE AND CALL HIM!” It’s a hideous compulsion. Why would you want to call someone who…okay, never mind! This is about ME. This is about MY healing. NOT him. Like I said: it’s a hideous compulsion. I wanted to call him and I didn’t want to call him and I let the “I want to call him” side take over because…because…going back to what’s familiar and comfortable is my default mode (next to crying, which I defaulted to today as well) and unless I stock my support arsenal to overflowing and sit on my flippin’ hands and pray my butt off, I will – oh, yes! – sabbotage myself! Ahh- the real enemy: ME!
I have barely dirtied my fitigues in Break Up Boot Camp and already I’m ahead of myself and fighting in the trenches. With a tissue as a weapon. Oooh – intimidating, I know. An imminent slow, painful death, to be sure.
So, yes: I phoned him. I won’t go into details. The call was short. Pointless. And just spun me so far out of myself that I am no better off than I was when I started writing last Sunday’s entry.
I need help. Mayday! Mayday! Mayday! Fun Fact: “The call is always given three times in a row to prevent mistaking it for some similar-sounding phrase under noisy conditions, and to distinguish an actual mayday call from a message about a mayday call”(Wikipedia). Facts aside, I CLEARLY - no similar-sounding phrase about it - need help. I can’t spend every Sunday a big mess. I must do something different. “Really?,” you ask in that sarcastic voice I know you’re using right now (don’t deny it. I know most of the people who are reading this blog).
So, yes. Something different. I was actually formulating an idea about that this week that was going to be the entry I’d write tonight, but I AWOL’d instead. So back to square one. I have a feeling I will be in Basic Training for awhile, so no worries if you choose to not check in to the blog for awhile. It may be the Break Up rendition of Ground Hog Day. Or, maybe you’ll check back next week and we’ll all be surprised.
I hope so.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
