Spacious Solidarity Blog: Day 66

I decide to sleep in and skip early morning meditation. After coffee, a shower and drinking down the second half of yesterday’s smoothie, I call back a friend who left me a voicemail two days ago.

She is doing much better than the last time we spoke. We talk around what’s changed and how things are going now. I’m glad to hear that some of the things we discussed last time and the advice I gave has been helpful. She thanks me for being a good friend.

I haven’t always been a good friend and I’m still aware of the times I fall short even with the best of intentions. Friendship is one of those areas of life that seems the most complex. Every relationship is different, there is no one size fits all.

There’s this interesting tension between asking for permission to be just as I am while also engendering trust that I’m open to feedback and committed to getting curious about the ways I sometimes show up that aren’t helpful, or even potentially harmful.

A lifelong exploration. One of those questions that, as Rilke wrote, I just have to keep “living into.”

I spend the rest of the morning catching up on email and doing a bit of writing. For lunch I make myself a salad with greens, tomatoes, kalamata olives, boiled egg, vegetarian schnitzel, humus, olive oil, and a bit of salt and pepper. Yum.

I’m trying to eat better. I’ve noticed I’ve put on weight since the beginning of the lockdown. It doesn’t help that my partner is on a highly restrictive diet and losing weight as fast as I’m putting it on. I think I’ve been unconsciously eating for the both of us.

Also, I eat when I don’t want to be in touch with fear. Crisps and chocolate are a mainstay, and manjar (dulce de leche) has also now taken its place in my daily regime. Either in my porridge or on fruit or ice-cream.

Or sometimes a spoonful straight out of the jar.

The manjar evokes memories of my mother and childhood trips to Chile. A large part of me wants to believe that you can add it to anything and it makes it better. This includes my emotional landscape.

It only occurs to me today that it’s also not vegan. I’ve been trying to go vegan for years. I’m almost there, just eggs and cheese to go. I keep waiting for the vegan cheese options to be stomach-able, but they’re just not there yet.

So now, instead of continuing on the trajectory of less dairy products, I’ve added another one in. I remind myself I’m still not a fully integrated person. I am full of contradictions and complexity.

Just the other day I boiled three more cans of manjar. I’ve already opened one for myself. I plan to give one away to my neighbour. I’ll give another one to my cousin and his wife who live in London the next time I’m able to see them.

And then that’s it. I commit to not making any more manjar.

After lunch the doorbell rings. I know something is coming, as a friend texted a few days ago to confirm our address. He was on the retreat I led last week and said it was a little thank you.

It turns out to be a hammock.

Last week this friend posted a picture of a hammock he had just hung in his back garden on the retreat Facebook page. I commented that I had to work at not being jealous and instead simply be happy for him.

I immediately text him to say thank you and that getting me a hammock is above and beyond. I plan to bring it with me on my next picnic and hang it between some trees. I’ll send pics.

I spend the rest of the afternoon writing until it’s time to get on Zoom for a two-hour mtg. I have to work hard to stay focused and present. These days more and more of me prefers to be in creative, emergent spaces and this mtg feels too task oriented for me.

I’ve been reflecting a bit on the difference between generations, particularly when it comes to values. One thing that keeps jumping out at me is the emphasis the baby boomers put on doing what’s needed.

You just do what’s needed, whatever is needed. Regardless of whether or not you like it or are good at it. Because it’s what’s being asked of you. And you do it for as long as it needs doing, regardless of whether you feel like you’re dying inside.

This is a great way to combat the ego.

Although I appreciate the altruistic intention behind this value, I also find it painfully stifling and demoralizing.

I have also at times heard it pitted against a deeply held value of mine.

I value cultures where people are asked to do what brings them alive and is a good use of their talents and skills. In these contexts, one is expected to do things they aren’t good at or interested in doing.

Cultures rooted in this value create strong, healthy contexts because everyone is holding a piece of the bigger picture in a way that works for them, is their strength and makes them happy.

I’ve come to the conclusion that there are generational differences here, no right or wrong way. That it’s complex and the work is to engage with the tension and seek out opportunities where there is convergence, rather than divergence, of values.

After the mtg I eat dinner on my own, as my partner is on Zoom with a counseling client. Then it’s time for me to do some online teaching again.

The session starts out well. I give a bit of input on the theme of inclusivity and lead a short practice, exploring our deep heart wish to be free from suffering and then giving permission to the parts of ourselves that may show up in response to that heart wish.

The enquiry includes tender sharing about what people noticed during the practice. At one point, as I’m listening deeply to someone, I notice they have frozen. I wait a breath and then say, “I think you’ve frozen.”

I take a look at all the other faces on the screen and realise everyone has frozen. It’s not them, it’s me. All of a sudden the Zoom screen disappears altogether and I’m left on my own.

I try to get back on and get the dreaded “page not responding” message on my browser. Then I try on my ipad, same.

Thank God I thought to load Zoom on my phone the other day after my first Zoom anxiety dream. I re-connect to the session with my phone using 4G.

I give my entire talk using the phone and then ask them to get into breakout rooms to discuss. While the host is busy sorting that out, I reconnect with my laptop, as my internet has magically started working again.

We’re exploring how giving all the different parts of us permission to simply be as they are supports us to live our way into a more inclusive mind state. This can subsequently help us be more inclusive of others, especially people who are different from us.

It’s a rich exploration and also a toe dip into a much bigger sea of a topic. I’m pleased with how it’s gone, even with the technical glitches.

It’s interesting what people hear and catch onto in one’s teaching. For some reason, this evening the word that has jumped out for many in the group is “permission.” Perhaps that’s because in our culture we’re so often not given permission to simply be as we are, who we are, what we are, in all our beauty and all our ugliness.

Somehow, when there is permission for all of us to show up fully, then we can start to actually work creatively with what’s there. Otherwise, parts of us continue to run us from the shadows.

After teaching we go for a late-night stomp through Hackney Downs. On the way I notice a couple of huge white lilies growing in my neighbour’s front garden.

Another neighbour has most likely moved out, leaving a pile of crap on the paving including four vintage hoovers, indoor cross-country ski tracks, and a bizarre painting of a naked woman emerging from water and either throwing or catching a fish, it’s difficult to tell.

Closer to the park we pass a car that’s been colourfully painted like a mural. I’m sure we’ve passed this car a hundred times before but I never thought to photograph it. It’s interesting what you notice in the fading light of that liminal space between day and night.

The park is unusually crowded for this time of night and we make a guess that it’s because the day was so hot and the evening still comfortably warm.

It feels like people have lingered on well past the end of day. The park must have been bumpin’ earlier because all the bins are overflowing with trash. I take a snap of one, appreciating people’s attempts to get their rubbish as close to the bin as possible, once they could no longer fill it.

As we start walking around the park we see a lit up blue tent in the distance. Wow, people are really going for it. I comment to my partner that I’m surprised there are no police around trying to move them on.

But as we get closer, we realise that the tent is actually a dress and someone is wearing it and others are taking photos. It’s a photo shoot. I take some pics of my own.

When we get home it’s finally time to fix the front curtains which had been put off from the night before. We get the ladder out and I get up on it with a can of WD40 and new clips. After a lot of huffing, puffing and an obscene amount of profanity, the job is done.

I watch the last two episodes of Dead to Me, Season 2 which actually got a lot better and ends well. Then it’s a bath and straight to bed.