#self-refelction

[rainbowtwo]

The Practice of Self-Reflection

'Looking in the Mirror

When we look in the mirror, the one thing we don't want to see is an ordinary human being. We would like to see someone special. Whether we are conscious of this or not, we are simply not content to see an ordinary human being with neuroses, obstacles, and problems.

We want to see a happy person, but instead we see someone who is struggling. We want to think of ourselves as compassionate, but instead we see someone who is selfish. We long to be elegant, but our arrogance makes us crass. And instead of a strong or immortal person, we see someone who is vulnerable to the four streams of birth, old age, sickness, and death. The conflict between what we see and what we want to see causes tremendous pain.

The Pain of Self-Importance

We are imprisoned in this pain by a sense of specialness, of self-importance. Self-importance is the underlying clinging we have to "I, I, I, me, me, me, mine, mine, mine," which colors all of our experience. If we look closely, we find a strong element of self-importance in everything we think, say, and do. "How can I feel good? What will others think? What will I gain? What will I lose?" These questions are all rooted in our self-importance. Even our feeling of not measuring up to who we think we should be is a form of self-importance.

We like to see ourselves as strong and in control, but we are more like a fragile eggshell that is easily broken. This makes us feel deeply vulnerable - and not in a good way. The vulnerable self requires protection, armoring, the gathering of forces and the construction of walls. As a result we become fearful of relaxing with things as they are and increasingly uncertain that anything will work out the way we would like.

It takes courage to go beyond self-importance and see who we really are - but this is our path. The point of all Buddhist teachings - formal or informal - is to reduce self-importance and make room for the truth. This process begins with self-reflection.'

- Dzigar Kongtrul, It's Up to You, The Practice of Self-Reflection on the Buddhist Path.

[mobiusot256]

Missives from the past

I've been going through my old stuff. Notably, picking things to get rid of, and things to hold on to. I have already accumulated too much cruft to be of any good use to me, and need to thin the herd out before my inevitable move into a smaller space. But as you go through your stuff you find things. What kind of things?

Posters from my tours abroad in High School

Cruft accumulated from various career fairs and activity fairs

A life sized poster of me from my last year of college

A paper box

Gonna take a moment on this last one. I had no idea what it was when I found it. So I opened it. And there was another box inside. I opened that. A smaller box. I opened that. A folded piece strip of paper.

My heart froze for a moment while my brain suddenly decided to remember. It was a love letter. A short missive from my girlfriend right before I went to college. I think. <- I am slightly ashamed at that last bit. Either way, I wasn't sure I wanted the reminder.

I unfolded the strip anyways.

A reminder of a love long past. Something forgotten. A faint memory. I almost threw it out. After all, that time for that relationship had come and had gone, lost in the wake of new friendships and relationships. Connections that now run through my mind.

Awkward nights and wonderful nights. Painful, weary days and days that passed so quickly the hours felt like they were archived with early childhood memories.

Ultimately, I can't throw it out and won't throw it out. I choose not to erase the past. At least not for now.

Besides, I have tons of career fair crap I don't care about to throw out.

[rainypanethoughts]

The importance of strength in the individual and it's effect on general livability

It's 1:30 in the morning.

I'm sitting up in bed, tired, but not wanting to sleep.

I've had the intense urge to write a blog.

I don't know why, but it's happening.

I'd like to talk to you all for a moment about strength. 

Now, strength is a funny concept. What is strength? Well to us, as people, strength is something we have inside of us. Everybody has strength, some people just find it harder to tap into than others. But strength is what compels us and supports us in doing what we believe is right and true. Strength is that voice in our heads that tells us not to back down when we are being beaten by others' beliefs or ideals. It is what stops us from cowering away in a corner and accepting whatever other people wish us to accept. Strength is in all of us. Strength is........Strength is something I personally have been forced to have.

Now, I know, this is going to sound awfully emo and to any and all who read this entry, I apologise. But it's time for a little personal story from yours truly.

When I was younger, hell, let's face it, I was a wimp. Never stood up for what I believed in. Never stood up for myself. Never did anything to stop harassment, or unjustness or anything like that. I was in fact, a doormat. Which is a surprising thought, if you take into account that I was and remain to this day one of the tallest people at our school. But then, something just changed. I don't know what it was, who it was, or where it even came from. But nevertheless, it happened.

I became strong. I found my strength. I no longer allowed my ideals or my beliefs to be tested. And it was all due to one thing.

Desire.

I had the desire to protect, support and aid those of whom I cared about and loved. So, I became strong. 

Now, I know this all sounds a bit cheesy, but honestly, it's the truth. Nowadays I stand up for what I believe in and I am a constant pillar of support for those who I care about.

Everything was going fine.

Yet, something has changed.

Or maybe, something didn't change in the first place, maybe something never got better to begin with.

Some small part of me is still weak. We all have that part of us. That part that we so desperately try to hide from the world. The inner child of our soul that sits in the corner of our mind and weeps when the world all becomes just that little bit too much.

But it is at this point, that I realised, I was allowed to be weak. I was allowed to have moments to myself, to have problems, to be broken. I am allowed to feel sorrow and shame, just like everyone else. It took a lot for me to realise this. Hell, to this day I still wouldn't believe it, if it wasn't for that one person.

I found the one person that everybody needs. That one person who you can show your inner-most doubt, shame, self-loathing and they will hold your hand and help you fight these monsters inside you. I found the person that I can allow myself to be scared, or worried or even depressed around.

This person. I can never thank them enough for what they do for me on a daily basis. They help me to be strong for those I care about, and I help them stay strong when they most need it.

But even then, sometimes it's just not enough. 

Sometimes you have to be your own strength.

I found that out tonight.

Earlier, I walked into the bathroom and.........I am not going to lie to any of you, I was considering self-harm. Now, I don't do anything major. No cutting with blades, no scratching with nails. All I've ever done is turned the hot tap on and stuck my hand beneath the stream. It really isn't anything major in my eyes, because I would never hurt myself to the point that it hurts those around me. But I have done it, only once or twice, when the world all seemed too much and my heart felt empty. When the only thing I craved was some sense that I was in control of something in my life. Only once or twice.

But now we land on the key word on which we will place heavy emphasis on: "considering". I walked into that bathroom, stared at the sink and thought to myself. That's all I did. After several minutes staring at the tap, I turned and went to exit the room, stopping along the way to rest my head on the wall for a while.

I have strength, I have to have it. If not for myself, than for the people that I care about. I muttered somebody's name as I exited the bathroom. I muttered the one name that came to mind when I thought of who I wanted to be strong for.

If you're reading this, and chances are you have been, you know who you are.

I will stay strong for you. I'll be here to hold your hand when all is well, through the sunshine, rain, snow and hellfire, I swear that I will be here if you ever need me.

All you have to do, is ask.

Good night.

[pashu-blog]

The Shoulders of Giants

I got there by standing On the shoulders of giants.

Don’t look up to me. I’m not worth looking up to. If I deserve anything, It was all thanks to you.

I cannot do what you do. All I can be is a shadow of you. All I do is be a good person. All I ever said was all I knew.

Good people know When someone is in need, They try to be there And perform good deeds.

I am no hero, Heroes solve the mystery. I am no giant Giants are far bigger than me.

I’m not the one who holds The cards or plays the games. I’m a simple pawn, I have Accepted it. Accepted my name.

Now I simply look for The queen of hearts that Will find worth in this man, Who is all trades of jack.

But if she doesn’t show, I will still go on. Looking forever because, I am a simple pawn.

No I am no giant, I am no king. I am a man, lending Others my wings.

Glad to see others fly, And stand here with me, Glad to share these Shoulders, share what I see.

If I see the future, It isn’t because I am tall. It is because of the giants That listen when I call.

These giants look up too. They look up to me. Because I stand on shoulders That they refuse to see.

But one day they will Falter and fall. These giants will weaken And I will be so small.

I got there by standing On the shoulders of giants. They carried me there, On them I am reliant.

[sparklingheinecke11-blog-blog]

A check minus

I often find myself grasped by a color or image inexplicably. An idea I have turns into writing that, until it materializes on the page, is meaningless. My attraction to an object is reborn into insightful observation as I work through a piece. It is often impossible to comprehend why I like something or am intrigued by it as soon as it catches my eye. This is a journey, often eclipsing the actual time in which I am focused on writing about the very subject that sparked internal debate. Self-reflection is the only true way to discover why we are so drawn to or repulsed by a facet of our world. We have a need to conceal our scariest thoughts and reflections behind a mask of metaphor or literary extravagance, perhaps because such sharp self-reflection can unearth insight into prior failures, failures that are the sole responsibility of the self. It is easy to get lost in a cavern of mental problems that all interconnect, and often seem impossible to manage in a constructive way. Why can’t we simply shun any desire to reveal what could be called the“ subject-beneath-the-subject”? We crave understanding and satisfy this craving through trying, not necessarily succeeding. During my orientation, when this course was described to me, I jotted down something in the margin of my paper:  Is writing well some sick joke, so evasive it can never be grasped? Well, yes. If you are grabbing. However, if you are watching, and listening, the need to gain comprehension of those things beautiful by simple sight or touch will become obsolete. Those same wondrous things sit ready inside your thoughts and memories, a piggy bank of creativity waiting to be spent.