the voices in our heads

And, yes, we’ve all got them.  Not so much a heard thing, perhaps, as felt and known.  You might call them thought forms, as did Alice Bailey.  The thing of it is, we all have our own and then! We also are subject to the influences from everyone else’s as well.

It is possible to rise above this input, I think.  We saw a program about jazz musicians, one of whom described what his version of this voice said to him.  He of course had the lovely critic sitting in his head telling him he’d never get it right.  You have to wonder why that critic is so often there, is so universal, and so often flies under the radar.  As in, you’re not consciously aware you’re telling yourself this awful stuff.  In this case, the musician was ravishingly accomplished but you could see that something had left a mark.

Meanwhile, back at toadstool central, events have flowed in such a way as to confront me with an impeccable sequence of all my deepest rooted fears and senses of inadequacy and out-of-body-while-chopping-vegetables-with-sharp-knives sort of thing.   Some weekend, in short.  Again? I think to myself.  Now?  REALLY?  But in the moments where the ability arises to say, well, this is a thought and that’s all it is?  Reality is reality and you don’t need to interpret it with your old issued at birth instruction manual?  A sort of spaciousness comes into the chest, lowers the shoulders from up around my ears, and the old thought form of failure and fear dissipates and fades even more.  It is quite a bit about letting yourself entertain thoughts of success, even though what that success might be is not visible particularly.  About saying, well, this whole thing may blow up but *I* don’t have to.  I may have to take a martini cure or two but it really is true: You can’t step in the same river twice.  So why worry?  At bottom, either you live through it or you don’t, so why waste time thrashing about as though there were some other ultimate results.  There is so little we can really effect and affect on some level, it seems sensible to at least attempt to focus on the areas where a dent might be made.  And this is generally in the area of how we are thinking about things, and in the attempt to at least do something a bit differently this next go round.  No matter how convoluted or self serving or whatever it might be that someone is saying or doing, if you can stay out of the force field of it all and just BE there, things can move for everyone.

In that vein, and in our ongoing locavore quest, we went to a local farmer’s market over the weekend.  While we can now stroll by the vegetables, this particular market has meat which is organic, pasture raised, and fed non-GMO food.  This was what we were after and wow.  I emerged from the market bearing a dozen chicken feet and some pork lace fat, among other things, for stock and wrapping things in, respectively.  Lamb next time perhaps. The really nice thing was how comfortable it was to be there and how easy to talk to all the farmers and purveyors. Nothing like the farmer’s markets we used to sell at in the bay area where everyone was a bit more closed off.  It felt like being at home, at long last.   That is an experience we haven’t had much of for some time,  and the pleasure of it was enough to carry us both along in a most reviving and pleasant way.  We rebooted a bit.  So, it’s odd how things come in groups of experiences, complete lesson plans if you will.  Once you develop the ability to enjoy the unknown quality of it all- as in start to finish no guarantees or maps-and trust yourself and your crew to navigate, there are possibilities that I at least find I’d never thought about.  For today that is what I’m sitting with, anyway, and my teeth only chatter once in a while.

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