Putting the Present to Practice

Now that the dust has settled after reading Eckhart Tolle's The Power of Now, I thought I’d do a little follow-up post.  It is only natural for inspiration to wane after time, for us to forget the lessons we learned and to revert to old habits, but for whatever reason, this book has continued to improve my approach and my perspective on life.  Here are a few of the big takeaways that continue to have moved me:

             Time

 “Time isn’t precious at all, because it is an illusion. What you perceive as precious is not time but the one point that is out of time: the Now.” – Eckhart Tolle

I used to worry about time a lot, especially with things like life and mortality, the past and future, by anticipating and worrying about imagined future events that were completely beyond my control.  This was exhausting.  I thought that I needed to worry about the future, as if that would help prevent the things I worried about (death, catastrophic events, awkward social interactions) from happening.  It was only until I read this book that I realized that this kind of incessant worrying is completely counterproductive and unnecessary. 

Now I try not to focus on mind time, to worry less about things that are out of my control, and to not think too much about the future.  This is not to say that I don’t consider chronological time, which involves putting events on my calendar and requires some modicum of planning, but the obsession, the worry, the anxiety about the kinds of things that are completely beyond my control has been reduced drastically.  And I have to say, I feel a huge weight lifted off me.  Life really is so much more enjoyable this way, the way that it should be. 

 

 Overthinking

 “Worry pretends to be useful but serves no actual purpose.” – Eckhart Tolle

Overthinking is another issue I've always grappled with.  I am an INFJ, a Pisces, and an English major, meaning that I have all the personality traits of an overthinker.  All I did in college and grad school was read books, analyze them, and then write about them.  I used to think that being an overthinker was a good thing.  It was only when I realized that it’s actually being that is the key to enlightenment -- the opposite of thinking -- a light bulb went off.  Just the other day I was reading an interview with Singer Janelle Monae who said that “[R&B singer] Erykah Badu once told me, ‘Stay out of your mind.’  Whenever I’m anxious about something, I remember those words to anchor myself and not overthink the moment.”  It's comforting to know that some of my favorite artists struggle with this too.

 

Thinking too much zaps our energy stores (leaving less for things like creativity!), when all we have is the now, this very moment.  If we’re in our heads the whole time we’re missing out on experiencing the richness of our lives right in front of us.  Though I might be inherently prone to overthinking, I’ve learned that when I step outside my head and actually think less I’m a much happier and more content person.

 

Acceptance and Surrender

 

         “Sometimes surrender means giving up trying.” – Eckhart Tolle

So much of my life has been focused on striving, improving, and becoming that I often fail to realize that it’s okay to just accept where I’m at and be for a bit.  The cliché really is true: you have to just stop and smell those roses from time to time.  While lots of things can be achieved by being so future focused, it's easy to lose sight of basking in the glow of life as it is now.  Accepting and surrendering, that is, just letting go to whatever state you're in and not resisting where your world is at the moment, is a completely new concept for me, but it is incredibly freeing and invigorating.

Friday night I came home after work and dinner with a friend and was exhausted from a long week, so instead of resisting the urge to do nothing, I accepted it and surrendered to where I was.  I stripped out of my work clothes in the kitchen (don't judge:  you know how hot it's been!) and laid down on the floor and watched the sunset.  It sounds strange, but it was my own way of accepting and surrendering in the moment, and it was perfect.

 

Painbody

"If you are present, the painbody cannot feed anymore on your personal thoughts, or on other people's reactions." - Eckhart Tolle

Eckhart Tolle writes about this thing called the “Painbody,” which he describes as the “emotional aspect of egoic consciousness.”  (This article explains it really well.)   Painbody can be likened to an addiction to unhappiness.  While I am not fundamentally a negative person, the concept has made me more aware of how easy it is to grasp onto the negative, to latch onto thoughts that fuel negativity and dysfunction in relationships.  While we don’t like feeling pain, we are also somehow drawn to it, kind of like masochism.  By realizing the kind of actions that fuel the painbody, I have been working on my awareness of it within me, which has made me conscious of when it tries to rear its ugly head. 

Just a Tuesday Tickle.

A random list of thoughts brought to you on a Tuesday by yours truly.

1. It occurred to my on my ride home from work today that Enrique Iglesias's "Bailamos" might be one of the great long-lost pop hits of the '90s.  Just don't watch the video because let's just say it hasn't aged well, the styling of which has reduced the song to a corny choreographed mess.  But the song really is a sexy little number.  Listen to it, and you'll hear what I mean.
2. This article made me feel a little less guilty about consuming a half-watermelon every time I crack one open. 
3. The writing in Dexter continues to blow my mind.  Dr. Vogel offered up this gem (Episode 2 of Season 8), which really resonated with me: "I developed a framework for your survival.  That's what mothers do."
4. Another beautiful quote from the ever-inspiring and enlightening site, Brain Pickings, has stayed with me ever since I came upon it the other day: "Always be more than you appear, and never appear to be more than you are." - Angela Merkel 
5. It's amazing what things do to your ego (and after reading The Power of Now I've become that much more aware of how ego is involved in everything we do, think or say), but alas.  So, one of the Entertainment Weekly's editors followed me on Twitter the other day and then "favorited" one of my tweets today.  Is it bad that it kind of made my ego's day? 
6. I'm pumped that Sara Bareilles's new album comes out on July 16.  Her songwriting's so pop-rock delicious.  I also happen to be a pretty big fan of the beautiful/talented/good girly/nerdy combo.  (And as an FYI, she's pretty fun to follow on Twitter.)
7. I'm always walking that fine line of whether it's inappropriate or appropriate to tell someone I've dreamt about them.  The honest part of me feels a strange ethical obligation to let them in on it, as if it's something they need to know, to be privy to; the other part of me realizes this might come off a little creepy.  I wonder if this is some kind of strange compulsion or whether it's normal-ish.  (Thoughts welcome.)

Maine Beer Company's Lunch: The Soulmate of Beer?

I visited Maine Beer Company’s (new) digs in Freeport, Maine, over the long holiday weekend and I will say that it didn’t surprise me that the brewery, which includes a bustling little tasting room, lives up to the growing reputation of its product.  Before I go too far, I should mention that I only know about craft beer by way of reading about it and taking sips from my husband’s glass.  Being the curious cat that I am, however, I find myself intrigued by the craft beer movement.

What’s intrigued me about Maine Beer Company is its entire approach to its product.  From the bottle, which is taller and more slender than a standard beer bottle and therefore more akin to a wine bottle, to the crisp and clean-like-linen label, to the slogan “Do what’s right”, Maine Beer Company is all about quality over quantity, with nothing – from taste to image -- being sacrificed.  It's apparent that the product, the beer, sells itself, which is suggested on the label as being consumed within 90 days of the "stamped born date" as "[h]oppy beers do not age well."  Lunch, Maine Beer Company’s perhaps most sought-after American IPA, receives a world-class rating of a 97 by Beer Advocate, emits a delightful aroma of citrus and pine.  And though I’m no connoisseur, it is the most delicious-smelling beer I’ve ever set my nose on.  No exaggeration. 

After visiting the birthplace of Lunch, the tasting room of which is situated in a light and airy space where you can order all MBC’s offerings as well as some interesting mashups off a chalkboard, I was struck by how the space itself was a continued reflection of the company’s product with its white-washed walls, hand-carved taps, and large picture window where you can watch beer being made as you sip an IPA born yesterday and play a little game of Jenga with your friends.  All of this is comfortably flanked between a pastoral farmhouse setting and Coastal Route 1.  Ah, Maine - the way life should be.

Like Maine Beer Company, I am a quality over quantity person.  Take a look at my friends and you will see what I mean.  They can be easily counted on two hands and are all equally incredible people: smart, interesting, wonderful, and wise.  They all happen to have superior qualities to me, which I'm well aware of, and hope that through immersion their greatness will eventually rub off on me.   

Maine Beer Company is kind of like that knock-your-socks-off person you meet who’s almost too good to be true:  Smart.  Interesting.  Deep and also funny.  Humble.  Wise.  Attractive.  Fun to be around.  Refined but not snobby.  Can be found uptown or upta camp.  And bonus!  (Also happens to be quite sexy.)  As you probably know, this is a next-to-impossible combination, though of course it does exist.  Hey, just take a look at Lunch!  But when it comes down to it, many of us are a little intimidated by that knock-your-socks-off beer, person, or thing, and instead settle for what is easy, cheap, and ubiquitous.  Though my good friends aren't easy, cheap, and ubiquitous, I happen to go for this combination in my mascara (which is usually L'Oreal Voluminous, if you really want to know.) 

Sometimes, people will go for what’s a little below them because it has the dual effect of temporarily boosting their egos while also expending no intellectual or emotional energy on their part, which is not always a bad thing, though it is usually accompanied with temporary gratification and ultimately leaves them kind of bored and under-stimulated in the end.  To get to the thing that knocks your socks off typically takes a little extra work, a bit of effort, some hustle and flow.  Take MBC’s Lunch, for example.  It can be hard to find at your typical corner store, is rather pricy at $6 a bottle, and might be confusing to the palate at first, which is why many of us go for the easy-to-get and often underwhelming Budweiser; the overrated and oversweet Pumpkinhead Ale (just because it's seasonal doesn't make it better); or PBR, the beer that everyone knows and everyone makes fun of, but will still hook up with, because hell, cheap ass is still ass.   

Though my friends would receive similar ratings to MBC’s, I actually happen to have a beer palate of a five year old, which is why you will likely find me sipping on any sudsy low-end light beer, if my preferred drink of choice -- a vodka tonic -- is not available (though if you know me really well my ultimate preference would be chocolate cake).  So, let's be real here -- who am I to write about Maine Beer Company's Lunch?  All I can say is that I know a good thing when I see it. 

What's Missing from Entertainment Weekly's All-Time Greatest?

Entertainment Weekly just issued its “100 All-Time Greatest” issue, which lists the supposed greatest movies, TV shows, albums, and novels of, well, all time. In the Editor’s Note, Jess Cagle writes that “[w]e would decide what was best, without worrying whether it adhered to or violated conventional wisdom,” which included trying to “honor contemporary work that will endure for centuries to come alongside the classics.”

While I am well aware that music is as subjective as one's taste in the opposite sex (which is why many people look at me funny when I tell them my all-time celebrity crush is Tom Selleck!), as a music fanatic I couldn't help but share a few albums that I think should’ve been included in the “All-Time Greatest issue”, although for whatever reason didn’t make it there.   

So I'm just going to go out and say it.  Why the eff did not one single Steely Dan album make the list?  I realize that some do not like Steely Dan and that some may not have heard of Steely Dan (those who have not are either 12 and/or exclusively listen to whatever the Top 40 station spoon-feeds you, and for that your opinion doesn't really matter in this case.)  Most anyone who loves music, or perhaps more importantly knows music, realizes that Steely Dan is a serious band for the serious music nerd, case in point being Paul Rudd’s character in the movie Knocked Up.  His friends made fun of him for it (because that's what douche-y dudes do, but as a music producer he knew his stuff and made his case for why Steely Dan is one of the greatest bands ever). While my life changed (good art has that effect) when I really discovered Steely Dan at the age of 17 is actually pretty irrelevant here, especially since Katy Lied and Pretzel Logic are both albums that have received wide critical acclaim and beyond that are just really universally great pieces of music.  No disrespect to EW, but for these reasons, at least one of those albums should have made the list.

Whether you like hip hop or not, I was quite appalled that not a single Roots album appeared on EW's list, though I did agree with the inclusion of Jay-Z’s The Blueprint, De La Soul’s 3 Feet High and Rising, and The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill. The Roots are the kind of band that transcend their genre.  And by this I mean that people who don't even like hip hop happen to appreciate the Roots. But strictly on an album level, their records are the sort that encompass a very distinct mood and theme (of particular importance since EW's listing is based on greatest albums and not bands). Most notable, and missing from the list in my opinion, were Illadelph Halflife (released in 1996) and undun (released in 2011).  Both are the kind of albums that will continue to blow your mind no matter how many times you've played them over.  Listen for yourself, and you'll likely agree.

Finally, how did Al Green's Call Me (which I like, understandably) make the list, but not Shuggie Otis’s Inspiration Information? That album is disgustingly incredible. Released in 1974, it maintains a consistent laidback, romantic mood, while simultaneously unfolding like a novella.  As a timepiece of the 1970s, it also somehow still manages to transcend the time period. For example, I could play the album in summertime 1970s Greenwich Village or summertime 2010s Greenwich Village and in either era it would hold up as one of the great Greats. And, well, “Strawberry Letter 23” and “Aht Uh Mi Head” are easily five-star tracks, at least they are for me.

And that's all I have to say about that.

Why I Like the Big K (Where Image Isn't Everything)

Despite the narrow aisles and low ceilings, constructed for a time of skinnier people and skinnier carts, Kmart feels simultaneously spacious and airy and at the same time, from a different era.  You go there not because the prices are lower (like Walmart) or for its snazzy, trendy wares (like Target); you go there because there will be no lines, no people to run into from work, but also likely no pocket-sized Pizza Hut/Dunkin’ Donuts/Starbucks (which is neither unfortunate nor fortunate, I suppose).

At Kmart, there happen to be fewer shoppers sporting SpongeBob PJ pants and slippers, screaming kids, and the current common cold du jour than the Walmarts and Dollar Trees of yore, though it is not to say that the store doesn't cater to a humble group of folk.  At my local Kmart, for example, there happens to be a high percentage of Franco-American senior citizen shoppers with their polyester pants and carts stocked with whatever cleaning products that happen to be on sale, which provide a certain familiarity because they happen to remind me of my own late Franco-American grandmother.  
 

Nevertheless, while I am never particularly jazzed by the stock of goods that Kmart has to offer (things like storage bins and shampoo always seem to be just a little inflated in price and there is no particular flashy gimmick, such as the promise of a nice stash of new Essie nail polish or trendy, one-season-only apparel freshly hung on the clearance rack), there is something warm and fuzzy about the Big K, and what can I say? I am a real sucker for the warm and fuzzy.

Typically, the soundtrack at Kmart brings me straight to the late 1980s or 1990s, playing ballads from Heart or Celine Dion or even Amy Grant (I believe "Baby Baby" happened to be playing the last time I was there), and it makes me want to head straight to the coloring book aisle and pick out a little something for my former 6-year-old self. 
 

 

In its glory days, the Kmart I used to go to was a bustling destination complete with a well-stocked music department, not to mention Walkmans galore.  But the especially exciting feature at the Kmart from way back when was its in-house cafeteria, which, if you could get past the cloud of cigarette smoke, lent a delightful little reprieve to the end or middle of the Big K shopping experience.  They had every fatty, processed, nutrient-devoid dreamboat snack you could want: hot dogs, chicken fingers, French fries, various cream pies, your standard stash of handy-sized chips, and a nice selection of fountain sodas (including, I believe, Mello Yellow).  The cafeteria abutted the hair product section, which was next to the cosmetics section, which meant that the Caboodles (remember those?) were somewhere mixed in between.  How I remember this is no matter, but I loved my Caboodles almost as much as I loved my perm. 

But back to 2013.  I found myself wandering the aisles this past Saturday, well, because I needed some laundry detergent stat and because Kmart happened to be next to the record store where I picked up some Seals & Crofts (summer is when I crave the smooth '70s tunes).  And while I was there it occurred to me how grateful I was to be able to have the freedom to aimlessly wander the aisles of Kmart on a Saturday, but also how grateful I am that there is such a place in 2013 that is neither flashy, nor hipster, nor bottom-barrel cheap, nor particularly relevant, which is, quite honestly, really refreshing.  

 

With its underwhelming aesthetic and lack of identity, Kmart is a kind of unassuming and safe haven, much like Empty Nest (that everyone used to watch but everyone apparently forgot about besides me, it seems), or maybe it’s just where I like to spend a random hour on a random Saturday afternoon, simultaneously out in the world while also away from it.  We all need a little of that in our lives, I think.

Image credit: Pinterest

From Impure Thoughts to Thoughts of Self-Acceptance

Growing up Catholic, going to confession was a regular ritual in my family.  Once a month, my mom would drag my siblings and me to a church three towns away so we could tell a priest our sins.  Truth be told, it was equal parts humiliating, cathartic, and simply a task that was part of my Catholic upbringing.  Nevertheless, I always felt better afterward, because (a) I felt that for the 15 seconds while I did my penance in the church pew I was devoid of all human sin; and/or (b) the whole thing was over until the next month; and/or (c) we typically went out to eat afterward.

The problem with confession as I saw it was that I typically wound up confessing the same slew of sins each month, particularly the personal biggie: "impure thoughts."  When I was old enough to realize that having such impure thoughts was even a sin, I asked my mother how to confess such a thing.  My mother, being the cradle Catholic/enlightened woman that she was, had the apropos response for her precocious child:  "In that case, you say that you've had 'impure thoughts.'"  I was thankful to her for giving me the perfect catch-all for such a complex-to-me-at-the-time-kind-of-sin.

Now that I'm all grown up, I know that these "impure thoughts" are simply a fact of life that can't be erased from my mind no matter how much I try.  After all, I'm a human being with a fully functioning brain and body that are intended for making babies but which serve so many other purposes.   Now I'm not ashamed for such impure thoughts that enter my mind because it reminds me that I'm alive and thriving, and that my body is as engaged as my mind, which is a beautiful, biological thing.  

Furthermore, trying to erase thoughts of any kind only increases the potential for such thoughts to squirm back in, because that's just how the mind works.  We have an uncanny way of rebelling against ourselves, don't we?  (Well, at least I do.)  While I've evolved to know that impure thoughts are natural and acceptable, there are always other things I'm working on or striving to improve, different spiritual philosophies have taught me that self-judgment does not an enlightened mind make (a Buddhist philosphy instead of a Catholic one), which in my adulthood seem so much more logical and practicable. 

Only until we accept ourselves for our various shortcomings, weaknesses, and transgressions, et al. are we more likely to find success in changing and overcoming them, because it is upon self-acceptance that achievement in overcoming shortcomings suddenly becomes wholly and truly attainable. 

Feeling guilty about our weaknesses or failings only consumes energy that could be applied to more positive areas of our life that could by default reshape our focus away from our weak areas.  Since our bodies and minds only have so much energy, as it releases from the negative to the positive these thoughts/actions happen less often or, if you're truly a saint, not at all.  (Though who wants to have no "impure thoughts" at all?  Isn't that what makes us perhaps a little more interesting and endearing? I like to think so.)

Finding Home

Why I've only gotten into the Dexter series now that it is in its final season is beyond me, but in picking Season 7 up (via Netflix) midstream I have belatedly realized all that I've been missing out on for the past seven years.  Oh, well.  Better late than never, right? 

What distinguishes the show from others is that it is both plot AND character driven, revealing a complicated protagonist, Dexter, who happens to be a symphathetic killer, since he "only" kills the bad guys.  One of my favorite aspects of the show is that we get to hear Dexter's inner monologue, at times wry and sadistic, and other times tender and thought-provoking.  According to those in the know, Dexter's emotional capacity has evolved throughout the seasons, with him revealing in Season 7 the ability to experience the depth of love in a way that he never has before.

In "Argentina," the show's aptly titled Episode 8 of Season 7, Dexter makes a poignant declaration at the end of the show about the idea of finding your own version of home in the world, where he says:

          No matter where we go, we take ourselves and our damage with us. So is
          home the place we run to or is it the place we run from? Only to hide out
          in places where we are accepted unconditionally, places that feel more like
          home to us. Because we can finally be who we are.

The statement struck a chord in me because it was not only beautifully stated, but because it rings so true.  Whether we have it, had it, or are continually searching for it, we are all always longing for that place -- whether physically or mentally -- that we can call home, that place where we can just be. 

It's a place where we are not always understood, perhaps, but where we are completely accepted, where we are free to be our sometimes silly, oddball selves, so much so that our quirks -- those so-called issues/isms/little things that we may be ashamed to share with some people -- are not only openly received, but are cherished, nurtured, and loved.  Sadly, for some, that place may never be found, but for those who've stumbled upon it, it is truly the ultimate of all places to find and to be, if you are so lucky.

And that's all for tonight.