August's sixteenth birthday. Boy, time flies. Damon said not to call until after 11 am LA time. I called about noon to sing the birthday song- a la Ross. Mike and I developed our version of the song. Mike couldn't sing to save his life. When on the altar, the priest would signal him to shut off his mic if he was singing. Really bad. So, he and I developed our way around this little problem. We sang off-key; we caterwauled; we howled while we sang the birthday song. Now, I sing solo. I keep up the tradition with my variations, not dependent on Mike's limitations. I can hold a note much longer; I can reach notes that he couldn't. This is fun. The family pretty much girds their lions in preparation for this serenade. But it is still special- I think.
Changes are happening quickly to my body in Bikram. I was doing a single standing posture when my body said NO. Okay, I stopped and moved much, much slower. I experienced changes in my left calf and somewhat into my thigh. Paying attention and respecting the messages from the body makes a big difference.
After class, I stopped off at the T-Mobile store. I haven't been able to access my GPS for at least a week. When I went to the door, it was locked, the store looked stripped, and there was a workman on a ladder. It was 9:30. The store was supposed to open at 9. What was striking was there was no note on the door saying what was going on. When I got home, I figured out I could call T-Mobile directly and get help. Yep! My cellular service button was on off. I have no idea how that happened.
I continued working on cleaning up the clippings from the diseased hibiscus. Yvette gave me two industrial trash bags. I have been cutting up the branches to fit in the bags. Scott said that when the sun hits the black bags, it will produce a heat that will cook those troubling little mites feasting on my plants. Once dead, the green waste can join the municipal green waste without fear of infecting other plants. I only work until the sun makes me feel par broiled. Then I go to shower and go on with my day.
The plan was to go to Hilo today to order the headstone for Mike's grave. I had to call the owner of the shop to see if he would be available today. Sorry no. I called B and told him that I was not going over. That means he went over to deliver a super large backpack for Elijah to carry his high school books. Since I wasn't going over today, B would have to do the school shopping with Elijah, too; the school has been in session since Monday. I wasn't able to do it this year with the kids because of timing. Maybe I can do it again next year.
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Musings: I'm putting this separately so those who are not interested can choose not to read it.
Research in neuroscience shows that we don't make rational decisions. Our nonconscious minds, using a life-time of knowledge, make those decisions for us. Well, yeah. God forbid, we had to use our conscious minds to make every decision. We'd be back in bed after half an hour. It would be exhausting.
But I find my conscious mind does have a role in decision making. While it doesn't do the driving, it acts as a traffic cop. In doing healing, I receive impressions. There are a few seconds where I can observe my reaction, and my nonconscious mind's instruction to do something. In that brief window, I have a choice to follow the instructions of my nonconscious mind or not.
When I'm in healing mode, I'm usually at my least anxious. However, there are situations where I get conflicting impressions. My conscious mind 'knows' things I could do to 'help' the client, but I also think it's not quite right to take that action. They are two different feelings involved. The most challenging part of the decision is sitting with the session's discomfort where I do 'nothing' and have to risk being 'a failure.' I have a choice. While being in that position can make me uncomfortable, I have never regretted taking the 'wait 'option.
Meditation has helped me observe what's going on in my mind before it's translated into action. I can discern the difference between actions driven by some form of fear versus the other option, whatever you call it. I know they feel differently. I know I have a choice. Do I always make the best choice? Don't be silly. When I was young, my choices were always driven by anxiety. I've had to work hard to learn when not to accept the counsel of fear.
