Know Your Mind

“If you really want to know your mind, the body will always give you a truthful reflection, so look at the emotion, or rather feel it in your body. If there is an apparent conflict between them, the thought will be the lie, the emotion will be the truth.” – Eckhart Tolle

Further to the tiny poem I posted on Saturday …

What do you want to write today, Ru?

Oh, boy! An urban fantasy!

You haven’t finished the novel yet.

The novel’s too big. I want to have fun.

“Black in Back” is half-done. You should finish it.

I will, but I’m stuck right now.

You’ll stay stuck if you don’t try to get un-stuck.

Did you not hear me? I said I want to have fun!

You’ll have fun once you get it rolling again.

I’m not having fun now, that’s for sure. I’m going to do something else …

What about the blog? You’re behind on your posts …

… something not writing!

*contemplative pause as Ru stomps off in a frustrated snit*

Well, no wonder you’ll never be successful.

During the course of this inner dialogue, my enthusiasm for my art was badgered from the joy of widespread potential to a poisonous knot of despair jammed under my ribs. By the time I was done, I was done. I didn’t even want to consider what I truly wanted to write because I felt like I’d be a failure if I didn’t finish something else. It wasn’t enough for my mind that I write for play. It wanted me to work. And even my bliss can be a turnoff when it becomes work.

I observed this odd conversation with the awareness that my compostable container houses two distinct entities: my mind and my spirit. And the two are the most contentious partners since George and Martha in Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? Boy, is my mind bossy. It’s such a control freak that, even when it’s so tired that it’s banging into the boards like a hockey player in third period OT, it still strives to beat down my spirit. And my spirit, the little wimp, lets it.

That’s what intellect thinks of spirit.

Actually, spirit is smarter than that. It doesn’t give up; it just concedes the moment. Eventually it comes back. It’s as relentless as intellect, if not as prone to pumping up the volume. I kind of wish it was, but I’ve also learned that spirit burns at a higher intensity and will not lower itself to the level favoured by the mind. Let’s face it: the mind is pushy, aggressive, derogatory, critical, judgemental, self-righteous, argumentative – all the things we look for in the perfect mate.

Spirit, on the other hand, can afford to wait. Spirit doesn’t adhere to the concept of time as interpreted by the mind, so if I storm off in a fit of pique and refuse to write on Sunday, it neither judges nor ridicules. It simply lets me be. My mind is the thing that will hunt me down and kill my will. Why it fears my writing so much is a mystery. You’d think it would appreciate a break, especially when it’s as tired as it was when I started my vacation, but no, if it lets up for a second, it will be overcome. Worse, it may be cast completely aside, forgotten, reviled, ignored. Oh, that’s the worst fate it can imagine, that it might be ignored. 

It thinks it’s the less favoured child when in fact there is no competition. I appreciate my intellect. When I need it, it’s there. I just wish it would shut up when I don’t. No, not shut up. Relax. Yeah, relax, old mind o’ mine. Take five and let spirit drive for a while. You’ll kill us all if you don’t loosen up, and if that’s not counter-productive to your purpose of keeping us alive, then who’s the big picture failure?

The third party in this dilemma – and this brings me back to Professor Ekkles’ point – is the compostable container. Emotion is reflected in our physical condition. When I’m angry, my stomach knots. When I’m sad, I cry. When I’m hurt, my chest aches. When I’m happy, I smile. When I’m in love, I am weightless. When I ask myself a question, as I did at the start of this diatribe, my immediate answer is the truth. Any hesitation and my will mind slip in there with its niggly naggy nonsense, effectively confusing me with coulda/shoulda/woulda. If I doubt my response, however quickly it comes, all I need do is note how my body feels. How I feel is always true. What I think, not so much. When the two collide, what feels better is the way to go.

So go there.