I made up a story today, and then decided to change the script.
Here’s what happened:
Everyone in Jamaica is preparing to greet Hurricane Gustav. Realising the imminence of the storm, I offered to drop the lady who does my ironing to her home. She lives in what we in Jamaica call “di ghetto”. As I drove off from her drop-off point, to my left I saw two young men with a dog. One was seated, wearing a hoodie with the hood drawn up over his head. The other was standing in front of him holding the dog’s leash. The dog was a recently groomed Shih Tzu wearing a red collar. It was squirming a bit and the man who was seated seemed to be trying to hold it. Those are the facts.
But facts are never enough. As humans, we put our mind to work to try to make meaning of what we have observed. And so, this was my story:
The men stole the dog. That was my first premise for surely two ghetto youths would not be able to own such a groomed, pedigreed dog. Then I started to embroider this story even more – the seated man had the hoodie pulled up over his head, clearly trying to hide his face as a thief would do. I started to feel sorry for the dog and the owner. I became angry at the men, and even more angry at myself for not being brave enough to stop and rescue the dog. For of course, I also built into the story that being thieves, they must have guns, so I would be risking my life to rescue the dog! I worked myself up into quite a state, almost to the point of tears, memories resurfacing of my sister’s dog that disappeared the day Hurricane Ivan hit in 2004. By the time I finally called my sister to relate the story, I was quite distraught.
Luckily, my sister and I are checks and balances for each other. As I related the story, I started to really listen to what I was saying, abetted by her insightful comments and questioning. Soon, we were making up alternative stories about the scenario. And we ended realising that since we didn’t know anything, we could choose to believe whichever story we wanted to believe. And so we chose to believe the story that the dog was lost, the men found her and would take loving, good care of her throughout the hurricane. I felt good with this story. I sent loving energy to the dog and the men. Is this the truth? Who knows? Who cares? There are many other stories I could have chosen to believe, for they are all just stories – each as “true” as the other. What I do know is that it is the truth that I choose.
And isn’t that the way it is in our lives in general? Everything that happens, we make up a story. Most times it is the story that affects us, not the actual facts. We are in effect getting into highly emotional states about things that are not even true – they are simply our perceptions, assumptions and interpretations. It is good to stop and observe ourselves. When we find ourselves in a good state, chances are we have made up a good story. When we find ourselves unbalanced and emotionally out of sorts, then we know that our story is not a good one for us. Whichever it is, we must recognise that every situation is a story made up by us – unless of course, we really truly are in the present moment. For in the present moment, there are no stories – just being.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Monday, August 25, 2008
Facebook ego
Yesterday I opened my Inbox to see this Facebook message:
"Smile! You were recorde by a hidden camera”
Followed by this message:
"I see you in this video. When was it?"
I immediately clicked on the link and tried to open the video. I should have known something was wrong when it would not open. Yet I kept clicking and clicking, wanting to see this video of me! All sorts of thoughts raced through my head – when was it taken, what was I doing, how did I look, hope it is nothing embarrassing, etc. I eventually realised something was terribly wrong when I received a message from a friend asking if I had sent him the same video! As it turns out, over the weekend a hacker had penetrated the Facebook privacy firewalls causing a maelstrom of messages throughout the network. Friends are becoming enemies, as some of the messages are quite offensive.
Having warned all my Facebook friends, and cleaned up my laptop as best as I could, I now pause to reflect. Why was I so desperate to see the video that I kept trying to download over and over, despite a little voice that nagged at me that something was wrong? Why have my friends behaved in the same way, e-mailing me frantically, wanting to see their video, despite my posting warnings on my Facebook wall? Looking at my own behaviour I can only conclude that it’s EGO at work!
You see, the ego loves itself over and above everything else. It loves its own image, voice, smell – anything and everything that reminds it of itself, that will support and build its own image of itself. The ego is totally committed to its own perpetuation at the expense of everything else. It will destroy everything about you, just for its own sake. I put my laptop and my Facebook friends in danger because of my ego. Something (that inner voice) told me that what I was doing was not right. Yet, driven by my ego, I refused to listen. I continued on my mad clicking spree knowing deep inside that I was out of control, doing the wrong thing.
It is so ironic that at a book reading the previous evening I had read the chapter from my book "Free and Laughing" entitled “Something Told Me”, which is all about the importance of listening to the inner voice. Hours later, I had forgotten all of that, totally consumed by my ego. I now realise that I always have to be on guard with my ego. I always have to keep it in check. I must be aware that whenever I am doing something, and that niggling feeling, whisper or discomfort arises, it is an indication that my ego is in control. Time to stop, breathe and clear the frequency, so that I can hear the inner voice loud and clear, without the noise of my ego.
"Smile! You were recorde by a hidden camera”
Followed by this message:
"I see you in this video. When was it?"
I immediately clicked on the link and tried to open the video. I should have known something was wrong when it would not open. Yet I kept clicking and clicking, wanting to see this video of me! All sorts of thoughts raced through my head – when was it taken, what was I doing, how did I look, hope it is nothing embarrassing, etc. I eventually realised something was terribly wrong when I received a message from a friend asking if I had sent him the same video! As it turns out, over the weekend a hacker had penetrated the Facebook privacy firewalls causing a maelstrom of messages throughout the network. Friends are becoming enemies, as some of the messages are quite offensive.
Having warned all my Facebook friends, and cleaned up my laptop as best as I could, I now pause to reflect. Why was I so desperate to see the video that I kept trying to download over and over, despite a little voice that nagged at me that something was wrong? Why have my friends behaved in the same way, e-mailing me frantically, wanting to see their video, despite my posting warnings on my Facebook wall? Looking at my own behaviour I can only conclude that it’s EGO at work!
You see, the ego loves itself over and above everything else. It loves its own image, voice, smell – anything and everything that reminds it of itself, that will support and build its own image of itself. The ego is totally committed to its own perpetuation at the expense of everything else. It will destroy everything about you, just for its own sake. I put my laptop and my Facebook friends in danger because of my ego. Something (that inner voice) told me that what I was doing was not right. Yet, driven by my ego, I refused to listen. I continued on my mad clicking spree knowing deep inside that I was out of control, doing the wrong thing.
It is so ironic that at a book reading the previous evening I had read the chapter from my book "Free and Laughing" entitled “Something Told Me”, which is all about the importance of listening to the inner voice. Hours later, I had forgotten all of that, totally consumed by my ego. I now realise that I always have to be on guard with my ego. I always have to keep it in check. I must be aware that whenever I am doing something, and that niggling feeling, whisper or discomfort arises, it is an indication that my ego is in control. Time to stop, breathe and clear the frequency, so that I can hear the inner voice loud and clear, without the noise of my ego.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Relax and focus
“I didn’t know I was going to run so fast,” he said. “But I came out to be a champion, and I was. I just tried to stay relaxed. I’m always relaxing. That’s the way to go so fast: relax and just focus” - Usain Bolt
Will I ever tire of watching Usain Bolt winning Olympic Gold and breaking the 100m Men’s world record? I think not – just 24 hours later, I must have watched the replay at least 24 times! (The only thing that can top his run is Jamaica’s clean sweep of the Women’s 100m – 1, 2, 3 – sorry 1, 2, 2 as we have been awarded gold and two silver!) More than just watching him run, I love the way he is enjoying himself – the dropping of the arms, the beating of his chest (“ah mi dat”), the high stepping even before he crossed the line – here is a man who is living in the moment and enjoying it. He has no thought about what he could have done, how much faster he could have gone. He is simply present to the moment – his moment. How wonderful to watch his childlike spirit – this is what happens when you are present – you experience the joy and ecstacy that happens so often in childhood, but that somehow we lose as we “grow up”. I hope Bolt never ever loses it. I hope he never “grows up”.
As I listened to his interviews, I have been struck in particular by two words that he repeats – “relax” and “focus”. “I am always relaxing” – note that he speaks in the present perfect tense. He is telling himself all the time – relax, relax, relax. When one relaxes, one loosens tension and is able to flow, muscles and indeed the entire body lightening and lengthening. Now the body is ready to do one’s will. But Bolt is not just relaxing for the sake of relaxing – he is relaxing with a purpose and clear focus – “I came out to be a champion”. This is the human spirit at its’ best, and Usain’s body had no choice but to follow. Focus channels energy. Energy channelled into a body that is relaxed, present and ready? Well, we saw the result in Beijing!
This is how to achieve excellence in any area that we choose – focus, relax, stay present and enjoy the moment! Then, life will be a beautiful ride, and you can achieve the most amazing feats in fun and style!
Will I ever tire of watching Usain Bolt winning Olympic Gold and breaking the 100m Men’s world record? I think not – just 24 hours later, I must have watched the replay at least 24 times! (The only thing that can top his run is Jamaica’s clean sweep of the Women’s 100m – 1, 2, 3 – sorry 1, 2, 2 as we have been awarded gold and two silver!) More than just watching him run, I love the way he is enjoying himself – the dropping of the arms, the beating of his chest (“ah mi dat”), the high stepping even before he crossed the line – here is a man who is living in the moment and enjoying it. He has no thought about what he could have done, how much faster he could have gone. He is simply present to the moment – his moment. How wonderful to watch his childlike spirit – this is what happens when you are present – you experience the joy and ecstacy that happens so often in childhood, but that somehow we lose as we “grow up”. I hope Bolt never ever loses it. I hope he never “grows up”.
As I listened to his interviews, I have been struck in particular by two words that he repeats – “relax” and “focus”. “I am always relaxing” – note that he speaks in the present perfect tense. He is telling himself all the time – relax, relax, relax. When one relaxes, one loosens tension and is able to flow, muscles and indeed the entire body lightening and lengthening. Now the body is ready to do one’s will. But Bolt is not just relaxing for the sake of relaxing – he is relaxing with a purpose and clear focus – “I came out to be a champion”. This is the human spirit at its’ best, and Usain’s body had no choice but to follow. Focus channels energy. Energy channelled into a body that is relaxed, present and ready? Well, we saw the result in Beijing!
This is how to achieve excellence in any area that we choose – focus, relax, stay present and enjoy the moment! Then, life will be a beautiful ride, and you can achieve the most amazing feats in fun and style!
Saturday, August 16, 2008
The Apartheid Museum
I am back home in Jamaica reflecting on my recent trip to South Africa. One of the amazing things about the country is the buzz of hope and possibilities. Everywhere you go, despite the acknowledged challenges and hardships, you feel the energy of hope.
One of the highlights of the trip was my visit to the Apartheid Museum in Johannesburg. The museum encapsulated the nation’s journey from one of the most dastardly systems of oppression to the emerging sunshine of freedom. As I viewed te the exhibits I was struck by the violence rent man to man – African to African; English to Boer; Boer to African – seems like all groups were inflicting violence on each other all in the name of power and control. This history of violence was driven by fear of others, of the unknown, of uncertainty, of the future. Fundamentally, the fear was not from what others were doing or not doing, but from how people saw the situation and projected into the future. The fear was, and always is, in their minds.
I experienced such a mishmash of emotions – anger, pain, deep sorrow, joy, regret, hope and others – and I found myself thinking “Is this journey different to the journey that Jamaica has travelled?” I envisioned an Apartheid Museum in Jamaica that would chronicle our journey. And it occurred to me that it would not be dissimilar to the South African museum. Maybe the violence and oppression were not as formalised and institutionalised in Jamaica as in South Africa, but it happened, and worse, continues to happen. There has been no national cleansing, no truth and reconciliation, no healing, no coming out of our denial.
We Jamaicans are proud of the role we played in South Africa’s fight for freedom. What about our own freedom? How can we be so busy fighting for the rights of others that we neglect the rights of our own people? In standing up for the principles of freedom and democracy, are we standing up for our right in an authentic, genuine way? Or is it just grandstanding? For a truly genuine commitment to freedom would have us shouting the loudest in our own backyard.
Yes, we cried “Free Nelson Mandela” – over and over until he was free. What we must not forget nor neglect are the many Nelsons in Jamaica oppressed by a system that keeps them poor and uneducated, thus denying them of the hope of a future of dreams and possibilities! And further, we must never forget that we cannot build a society based on fear – for fear will only create more fear, which as I saw so clearly in the Apartheid Museum, only leads to a downward spiral of the fight for power and control. The turning point from fear is to come out of our denial, accept our past, forgive and then ….. LOVE!
One of the highlights of the trip was my visit to the Apartheid Museum in Johannesburg. The museum encapsulated the nation’s journey from one of the most dastardly systems of oppression to the emerging sunshine of freedom. As I viewed te the exhibits I was struck by the violence rent man to man – African to African; English to Boer; Boer to African – seems like all groups were inflicting violence on each other all in the name of power and control. This history of violence was driven by fear of others, of the unknown, of uncertainty, of the future. Fundamentally, the fear was not from what others were doing or not doing, but from how people saw the situation and projected into the future. The fear was, and always is, in their minds.
I experienced such a mishmash of emotions – anger, pain, deep sorrow, joy, regret, hope and others – and I found myself thinking “Is this journey different to the journey that Jamaica has travelled?” I envisioned an Apartheid Museum in Jamaica that would chronicle our journey. And it occurred to me that it would not be dissimilar to the South African museum. Maybe the violence and oppression were not as formalised and institutionalised in Jamaica as in South Africa, but it happened, and worse, continues to happen. There has been no national cleansing, no truth and reconciliation, no healing, no coming out of our denial.
We Jamaicans are proud of the role we played in South Africa’s fight for freedom. What about our own freedom? How can we be so busy fighting for the rights of others that we neglect the rights of our own people? In standing up for the principles of freedom and democracy, are we standing up for our right in an authentic, genuine way? Or is it just grandstanding? For a truly genuine commitment to freedom would have us shouting the loudest in our own backyard.
Yes, we cried “Free Nelson Mandela” – over and over until he was free. What we must not forget nor neglect are the many Nelsons in Jamaica oppressed by a system that keeps them poor and uneducated, thus denying them of the hope of a future of dreams and possibilities! And further, we must never forget that we cannot build a society based on fear – for fear will only create more fear, which as I saw so clearly in the Apartheid Museum, only leads to a downward spiral of the fight for power and control. The turning point from fear is to come out of our denial, accept our past, forgive and then ….. LOVE!
Friday, August 15, 2008
Long live the Kumina King and Queen!
Last night I attended a performance of the National Dance Theatre Company of Jamaica (NDTC). As I settled into my seat, I glanced at the programme and noted with glee that the performance would close with my favourite NDTC work, Kumina. I consider it a masterpiece and never tire of it. I have seen Kumina so many times I know I could easily perform it if the company ever needed a spare dancer!
As the pulsating roll of live drumming and singing started, my body naturally started to move. Then, the riveting moment – the entrance of the Kumina king. This role was created and has been danced from inception by Rex Nettleford, the Artistic Director of the NDTC. It is HIS role. He has so embodied it that his entrance in Kumina always elicits enthusiastic applause. As my palms came together, I noted – the king was not Rex! This could not be Kumina. All of a sudden, this dance that I have grown to love so much, was not the same. A multitude of critical thoughts raced through my mind – the drumming was slow and weak, the singers sounded offkey and tame, the king looked timid, the male corps were untidy, etc. I found myself wanting the performance to end.
And then, something changed. The moment when the king commanded a change of rhythm of the drummers broke my state. I sat up and realised that there is no way I could enjoy this performance, for I was not present to it. I was actually watching Kuminas of times past, not this one. As I became present, magic seemed to happen - the drumming became more vibrant, the king took regal control, and the queen was beautifully elegant. What changed? Did the drummers, singers and dancers suddenly become imbued with some special energy? No. What changed was me. I became present and was able to enjoy the performance as it was presented with no comparisons with the past. And this is how it is with our lives – when we are not present to the moment, then we cannot see the beauty of it.
As the royal couple glided around the stage in the kumina foot shuffle, backs swayed, chins held high and only the hips gently rocking forward and upward, I saw Kumina in a new light. This young couple brought their own energy and vibrancy to their roles. Their movements, fired by their youth and vigour, were true testimony to the legacy of the NDTC - that this iconic work could pass from one generation of dancers to another and get even better! I felt, as the performance concluded and I applauded mightily, long live the Kumina king and queen! Long live Kumina!
As the pulsating roll of live drumming and singing started, my body naturally started to move. Then, the riveting moment – the entrance of the Kumina king. This role was created and has been danced from inception by Rex Nettleford, the Artistic Director of the NDTC. It is HIS role. He has so embodied it that his entrance in Kumina always elicits enthusiastic applause. As my palms came together, I noted – the king was not Rex! This could not be Kumina. All of a sudden, this dance that I have grown to love so much, was not the same. A multitude of critical thoughts raced through my mind – the drumming was slow and weak, the singers sounded offkey and tame, the king looked timid, the male corps were untidy, etc. I found myself wanting the performance to end.
And then, something changed. The moment when the king commanded a change of rhythm of the drummers broke my state. I sat up and realised that there is no way I could enjoy this performance, for I was not present to it. I was actually watching Kuminas of times past, not this one. As I became present, magic seemed to happen - the drumming became more vibrant, the king took regal control, and the queen was beautifully elegant. What changed? Did the drummers, singers and dancers suddenly become imbued with some special energy? No. What changed was me. I became present and was able to enjoy the performance as it was presented with no comparisons with the past. And this is how it is with our lives – when we are not present to the moment, then we cannot see the beauty of it.
As the royal couple glided around the stage in the kumina foot shuffle, backs swayed, chins held high and only the hips gently rocking forward and upward, I saw Kumina in a new light. This young couple brought their own energy and vibrancy to their roles. Their movements, fired by their youth and vigour, were true testimony to the legacy of the NDTC - that this iconic work could pass from one generation of dancers to another and get even better! I felt, as the performance concluded and I applauded mightily, long live the Kumina king and queen! Long live Kumina!
Monday, August 11, 2008
The hug
During my visit to NYC last week, my cousin Cantu and I arranged to meet at the Barnes and Noble bookstore to kickoff our marathon shopping afternoon. As Victoria and I walked into the store, we all waved happily and energetically “Here I am” and flew into each other’s open welcoming arms for a long, warm hug.
As we unravelled from the tussle of three bodies, six arms and three sets of teeth gleaming broadly in unbounded smiles, a diminutive elderly lady came into our orbit. She had been standing there watching us with her hand on her heart, tears in her eyes and was saying over and over: “Oh. This is so beautiful to see people hugging like this. You have made my day”. We brought her into our space, acknowledged the beauty of the hug and gave her a hug too. It so touched our hearts that she was so touched.
And that is the joy of the present moment, when three people are hugging each other totally focused and present to that moment of hugging. That moment extends to others so that our observer was also absorbed in the joy of the hug. Who got more joy – the huggers or the observer? I really don’t know. Perhaps there is no “more” during a present moment. Perhaps the joy of the moment is absolute – it just is, with no comparisons. Everything is relative we often hear. Yet, that moment of hugging was relative to nothing. For Cantu, Victoria, our friend and me in that moment we were not remembering past hugs or anticipating future ones; we were not distracted by thoughts of anything else – all our attention was focused on that moment of hugging. We were one with each other, with our family of birth but also with our entire human family. The elderly lady was no stranger – she was us.
The beauty of such joy is that it continues even after the moment of the actual hugging – we felt great to have made someone’s day, in addition to our own; our observer floated away on a cloud of joy, no doubt to have a different type of day than she was having before; I am still revelling in the moment four days later as I write this, and hopefully, you, the reader, are feeling the joy of that moment – and of this one, which is all there is.
How mighty and magical is the moment!
As we unravelled from the tussle of three bodies, six arms and three sets of teeth gleaming broadly in unbounded smiles, a diminutive elderly lady came into our orbit. She had been standing there watching us with her hand on her heart, tears in her eyes and was saying over and over: “Oh. This is so beautiful to see people hugging like this. You have made my day”. We brought her into our space, acknowledged the beauty of the hug and gave her a hug too. It so touched our hearts that she was so touched.
And that is the joy of the present moment, when three people are hugging each other totally focused and present to that moment of hugging. That moment extends to others so that our observer was also absorbed in the joy of the hug. Who got more joy – the huggers or the observer? I really don’t know. Perhaps there is no “more” during a present moment. Perhaps the joy of the moment is absolute – it just is, with no comparisons. Everything is relative we often hear. Yet, that moment of hugging was relative to nothing. For Cantu, Victoria, our friend and me in that moment we were not remembering past hugs or anticipating future ones; we were not distracted by thoughts of anything else – all our attention was focused on that moment of hugging. We were one with each other, with our family of birth but also with our entire human family. The elderly lady was no stranger – she was us.
The beauty of such joy is that it continues even after the moment of the actual hugging – we felt great to have made someone’s day, in addition to our own; our observer floated away on a cloud of joy, no doubt to have a different type of day than she was having before; I am still revelling in the moment four days later as I write this, and hopefully, you, the reader, are feeling the joy of that moment – and of this one, which is all there is.
How mighty and magical is the moment!
Saturday, August 09, 2008
BFF
We had a "cousins reunion" in NYC last night at dinner. No gathering with me in New York is complete without my friend Eliz. She is family - not just to me but to my cousins as well. Eliz and I figured out, with much exclamation, astonishment, surprise, denial and pride, that we have been friends for 42 years, having met in first form at Wolmer’s!
Nowadays Eliz and I rarely see each other. When I pass through New York, or she whooshes through JA, then we link up for a meal or a quick visit. Our mothers, Daisy and Helen, developed their own friendship independent of their daughters. This friendship had them visiting and travelling with each other, communicating regularly and taking care to nurture and treasure their friendship. This was how Eliz and I kept up with each other - through our moms. Our relationship has been different to our moms' - intermittent communication (read: months or years) with barely an e-mail, and never a letter, card or note! Yet, as we acknowledged last night, Eliz is my BFF (“Best Friend Forever” for those of you over 25, or who have children over 25). When we meet, it’s back to being the giggly schoolgirls we were at Wolmer’s – chatting about boys (yes we still do that, although they are now men), our work, our families, our health (read: weight) and of course catching up on our classmates at Wolmer’s and reminiscing about the good old days. The reconnection is immediate, comfortable, unpretentious. I am myself with Eliz, and she is herself with me.
We parted with promises of communicating with each more by e-mail, and my threat to get her on Facebook (my threat to everyone nowadays). Yet, I know that if she doesn’t get around to answering my e-mails – it’s OK. The next time I am heading to NY, or she is coming to JA, we will link up again, counting the years as BFFs, and celebrating our treasured friendship!
Nowadays Eliz and I rarely see each other. When I pass through New York, or she whooshes through JA, then we link up for a meal or a quick visit. Our mothers, Daisy and Helen, developed their own friendship independent of their daughters. This friendship had them visiting and travelling with each other, communicating regularly and taking care to nurture and treasure their friendship. This was how Eliz and I kept up with each other - through our moms. Our relationship has been different to our moms' - intermittent communication (read: months or years) with barely an e-mail, and never a letter, card or note! Yet, as we acknowledged last night, Eliz is my BFF (“Best Friend Forever” for those of you over 25, or who have children over 25). When we meet, it’s back to being the giggly schoolgirls we were at Wolmer’s – chatting about boys (yes we still do that, although they are now men), our work, our families, our health (read: weight) and of course catching up on our classmates at Wolmer’s and reminiscing about the good old days. The reconnection is immediate, comfortable, unpretentious. I am myself with Eliz, and she is herself with me.
We parted with promises of communicating with each more by e-mail, and my threat to get her on Facebook (my threat to everyone nowadays). Yet, I know that if she doesn’t get around to answering my e-mails – it’s OK. The next time I am heading to NY, or she is coming to JA, we will link up again, counting the years as BFFs, and celebrating our treasured friendship!
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