So first, let me say that I am ambivalent about whether blogs--my blog specifically--orter be entertaining. Worth reading--and worth writing--absolutely. And any photon of sunshine I can bring to a reader's idle moments, well that's mighty gratifying. I admit I was surprised at how quickly I became absorbed with observing the ebb and flow of web traffic, and how seductive the 'look at me' self-disclosure element of the blog can be. But I'm hoping every so often to get something substantial worked out here too.
So, before I started, it had occurred to me that I could use the lojong slogans (dear reader, the link is displayed to your left--but pray don't click until you're done here because I haven't figured out how to make my links default to target=blank) as an ignition tool for writing, on occasion. The slogans are the product of an obscure figure in the Tibetan Buddhist tradition, and one of the dharma writers I read a lot, Pema Chodron, has used them in her teaching. Hey, they work for me. But--I don't know if I can write entertainingly with them.
Many of them have a certain gentle humor to them, though. Like these:
Don't expect applause.
Don't try to be the fastest.
Don't be so predictable.
or, today's choice,
Don't wallow in self-pity.
If you're wondering whether all the slogans begin with "Don't"--they don't.
So let's cut to the self-pity.
Today, into tomorrow, SuperHusbandMan is on his job interview for a faculty position at Big Southeastern U, and it's this potential future transition that has unleashed in me a furious rush of multicolored mood swings. Self-pity, though, is a standout, and 'wallowing' is a rather restrained choice of words to describe my relationship to that attitude. I am utterly captivated by my own situation, even while recognizing that it's not especially compelling. To me, as I sit transfixed by the reflecting pool contemplating the gorgeous complexity of my inner world, the possibility that we'll be moving to an area I know not of, where those I know not reside, is just overwhelming.
The amusing thing is that I'm actually a restless, change-addict type of gal, so you'd think I'd be on this like white on rice. Instead I've been having flashbacks on stuff I'd forgotten was traumatic from the last time I pulled a switch like this. But I do recognize that this is pretty commonplace stuff--not especially special. Not uniquely special. How many redundancies can I cram into expressing this?
I'm not in this alone. There must be literally millions of families relocating this year.
Is that why there is an instruction: "Don't wallow in self-pity"? Because I should get a real problem--I should just suck it up?
No, I don't think that's what the slogan is about.
It might be something like the distinction made in dharma between compassion, and idiot compassion. They say that acting with skillful means requires compassion, but compassion is not enough--you need prajna, which is a kind of knife-sharp discerning intelligence, to use your compassion properly. One example of 'idiot compassion' is what 7-step people have made famous as 'enabling.'
I must be imagining that I'm lovin' myself up when I'm wallowing ... but really, imagining that I'm unfortunate doesn't ease my suffering. Just as good a slogan for the situation would be another of my blog categories: 'chaos should be considered extremely good news.' Being thrown off balance cuts me closer to my core, ultimately helps me shed some dead layers.
I really have no idea why the phrase 'shake and bake' comes to mind at this juncture, but it may be a sign that I orter go to sleep.
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