this IS your beautiful world

"Why do you even read that guy?"

That's Joe in response to another one of my what-Jeff-wrote moments, when I'm telling Joe about something Jeff Goins said that I couldn't disagree with more.  It's not even disagreement, actually, since that seems so mental.  My reaction is visceral -- an instantaneous shaking-of-the-head Oh No, you poor thing, how sad for you.  

Here's why I read that guy.  He's got tons of great information about blogging, tons, that he gives away for free.  As I've written before, I am learning so much from him.  Really, on blogging, he's great.  AND then there is all the other stuff I get from reading him.  There's more.

I think it's so good for me to be in contact with people I don't agree with, people whose opinions give me that visceral Oh No, Pobrecito/a, that's so sad.  I have this reaction a lot, reading other people's blogs, blogs by the other members of From Left to Write, the bookclub I'm in, for example, a lot of them mothers of young children, a lot of them very Christian faith-y. I'm not part of the Mommy Blogger demographic at all, but somehow that's precisely what I like about it.  We sometimes couldn't be more different. And that's the point.

Difference is so helpful.  Use it.

Probably it's from yoga that I have this thought, that we should use everything at our disposal, every bit of everything, to find freedom for ourselves -- what some would call enlightenment or nirvana.  Whatever happens to you, use it in service of your own liberation.  Take it all and put it to work on behalf of your own becoming of the You you're meant to be, the You you want to be.  It's not always clear what you're supposed to do with some of the shit that happens to you, but that doesn't matter.  And shit does happen.  In Tantric philosophy it's what's called Lila --  the random oops of the universe.  You just never know what might happen, so when it does, take it. 

Use.  It.  All.

With this attitude, then, I can read an opinion that's the opposite of my own and not react, instead use it to illuminate with a bam what I do think, what I do value.  It's so great.  Values I otherwise couldn't articulate find their way, fully formed, into my mouth or my fingertips.  So very useful.  

What's great about reading blogs is that I know they're just by people, just people expressing their particular store of accumulated wisdom, what they've learned, what they're going through at that specific moment on their own individual arc toward fullness.  It's their truth.  I can stop by and read it and take in what helps me, leave the rest behind, knowing it's just someone else's story.

The world is beautiful.

So you're wondering where I'm taking you, probably.  All this long bla bla bla preamble.  Cut to the chase, already, will ya.  Here it is, the thing which was so useful to me this morning.

I just do not, for one moment, ever, think we live in an ugly world.  And it makes me a little sad that anyone could start from this premise.  Because if this is where you start -- that the world is ugly -- then that helps determine the path you take.  I'm not here to convince anyone about anything.  I don't need to write a persuasive paragraph to change Jeff or anyone else's mind about anything.  But you need to know that if you want to read about the world being ugly, you won't find that here.  

The world is beautiful.

In fairness, the whole passage from Jeff's newsletter goes like this

Not only do I not think the world is ugly -- oh my goodness, nothing could be further from the truth, and I think it's such a shame to start there, to not be able to take in through the senses the magnificence of this world -- but I'm pretty sure I'm not so down with muses, either.  I think we have everything we need, on the inside and on the outside.  All we have to do is open our eyes.

Just open your eyes.

My sister shared one of her friends' Facebook status on my page the other day.  I keep coming back to it and thinking about it and knowing it as truth.  When I read these words the first time, they just clicked into place, little falling Tetris blocks into the perfect space below, snap, whole.

Staying awake and living awake -- that's another thing.  Actually, maybe it's the ONLY thing.  Yes, it's the only thing.  

This world we're in: it's beautiful.  Yes, Lila happens.  Sometimes everything's going along fine and we crash our bikes, break some ribs and a collar bone and puncture a lung (sending love to my brother-in-law who did this yesterday).  Sometimes we're just going down a hill on our brand-new awesome bike and we hit something a little wrong and over the handlebars we go, just like that.  It wasn't pre-destined.  It's not happening to teach us a lesson (although it's a really good thing we were wearing our helmet).  It's just Lila, the oops of the universe.  Even when we're at the ER and we're busted up, we're here, a nurse is taking care of our needs, the phone calls are being made, someone is giving us pain meds, people are worrying about us and loving us, our hearts are still beating.

Our hearts are still beating.

And that right there is beautiful.  Sure, Lila.  Yes, heartbreak.  And yes, cancer and broken bones and death. But also yes, a hummingbird in flight.  Yes, trees in the wind.  Yes, lilac and friends and love and focaccia and coffee, always coffee. And yes.

Always Yes.

As long as my heart's still beating, I will never stop loving this world and everything in it, the stuff that's easy to love, the stuff's that's really really hard to to love.  All of it.  In a way I suppose this is easier for me since really I live in Paradise.  I just think about yesterday morning waking up in Point Reyes at Peggy and Jim's house, drinking coffee and eating delicious toast, walking on Dillon Beach on a sparkling spring day, eating fresh focaccia from Tomales Bakery, our fingers glistening with the olive oil, then lunch, more sun, and home to our farmlet, sated, delighted, home.  When the bad has happened -- when there's been darkness -- still we take it, we use it, we get better, we get stronger.  We live.

I'll keep reading people I disagree with, pobrecitos who say they don't see the beauty of the world, mommies with very different philosophies and tastes, whoever.  And dealing with the Lila when it comes, and boy does it.  And always, always, eyes open.  Always, always yes.

Comments

[stacey]

You are SO right. The world isn't ugly, at least not as a starting point. And I beg to differ on several of Jeff's beliefs
1) "the artist must create beauty"-I'm into beauty but it's I think it takes all kinds of art. It's great that some artists point out social injustice and other uglyness.
2) "it's not an easy life" I reject the suffering artist paradigm. Plenty of non-artists go wacko or become recluses.

Being weird I can get behind. :)

Maybe Lila is just the beautiful, friendly universe being weird.

[Ariane]

I love your idea, Stacey, that Lila is just the beautiful, friendly universe being weird! What a helpful way to think about things, at least for me: that was happens is play, what happens is chance, what happens is a reminder not to get too attached. :)

[Michelle]

I'm with you on most of this. The world itself isn't necessarily ugly, but there are certainly people out there who do their best to make it ugly for those around them. It sounds like you have the joy of living somewhere beautiful and having beautiful people around you. But as with everything, life is what you make of it - and I love the attitude you have towards making the most of it, no matter what it is!