I will now dive onto the ground, roll over and play dead. We create a third way to wiggle our self outside the box. Playing dead sounds serious. Though far better than experiencing deepening depression or suicidal thoughts, playing dead anticipates transformation. Just as dreams of death mark transformation, so playing dead marks transformation. Evoking this state offers a chance to do some magical thinking and realignment. The practice acknowledges the need to disengage and the not yet readiness to head in a different direction. Some brick walls have to be scaled rather than walked through. Playing dead allows us to lie down, contemplate the height of the wall and often times allows us to arise into an environment of altered scale, where we step over the barrier, easily.
Perspective Exercise #9: Playing Dead
With two year-old temper tantrum theatrics, we cast our body down on a bed or well-carpeted floor and announce to the air surrounding us that we have had it and will play dead. We may play dead for all of a few seconds or for a long morning. Let the awareness of playing float inside consciousness. Detach and see what details we notice. Then when ready reengage with life. Jot down a reverie to remember. Plan for the next demise. At some times of year this represents the only way we can get our self to detach enough to gain a perspective on how we don’t let our self separate from some less than fun activity that we overvalue. After a spell of lighter fun activity that earlier activity can sometimes be quickly accomplished and pronounced done. Or simply pronounce it done. We evoke an awareness of non-linear time. Non-linear time wraps around our awaeness, close by.
Standing outside the box gives me a whole different perspective on gardening and maintaining a yard. I know I enjoy playing with dirt and water. I know I do not know enough about gardening to grow vegetables. I know, though, that I like yards that have something always blooming. I do not have too much concern for color. So I begin to play in and with the yard. I grow flowering weeds. I move around what is there. I focus on areas where big trees once grew, blocking sunlight. I begin brick walks to imaginary places. I begin placing stones on the ground to mark and relate one spot to another randomly. Eventually I stack stones into cairns. Something deeply satisfies me in this process. Around the stones I plant simple species that require little attention. The yard becomes an enchanted playground. Due to bugs and heat, some times of year, the playground closes. Due to the temperate climate some times it unexpectedly opens. Neighbors and friends have extra plants to share. Clumps take up perennial residence. I see my swamp daisies across the street and down the way. I can stack stones in other places and meet other people who stack stones. In Vancouver enchantment overcame me, I see stones stacked in the inter-tidal waters. These stone balancers encourage me to attempt greater acts of balance.
When we step out of our boxes and balance on edges, sometimes we simply expand the fields in which we play with a new sense of our center of gravity. And that center rather than holding the grave holds levity. We can travel lightly upon the earth.
Perspective Exercise #10: Outside the Box
At a loss for a talisman of these changes in perspective, I have to hear the words I use. Outside the box requires a box.
So take a small box, and place inside it a collection of annotated small "pages" for each token we have created. Also imagine a box that would hold the universe.
Like a flash card put a reminder on the reverse of the "pages." Now randomly tuck them into the box. When needed spread them out and notice
the content, the messages, and hopefully the humor.
Friday, April 9, 2010
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment