Be present, be pleasant

Recently, I had a good talk with my mom on the phone. I think I must have been having one of my Iced Grande Americano-induced anxiety attacks. That, and I was feeling whack about the Affordable Care Act—not so much the Supreme Court ruling itself and that it was going through, but the barrage of comments on Facebook, Twitter, and such (there they are again, those awful, peace-destroying culprits) either gloating or complaining. That, and just general confusion, malaise, et cetera. I felt the weight of a confused, noisy world, closing in on me...alone in my boring suburb.

Now, if I had any will power (or sense) and had stayed the fuck off Facebook, like I was supposed to, maybe I wouldn't have had the mini-breakdown. I really, really must break the habit. Mostly there are banal things that give a little chuckle, which are nice, but come so cheap. Then there are the "spirited debates." I usually end up feeling...not right...worn down...something...wrong after them. Do I go on because I crave adult interaction...some...any connection with someone out there? I should be better, stronger, and more thoughtful than that. After all, I have a husband to connect with in the evenings. And I have a child who is pretty bright and interesting here most of the day. I also have a mom, reachable by phone...

So I called my mom. Usually I keep it light. I want her to think I have it all together, but this time, I actually cried. Just crazy dumb stresses, nothing major, except life.

I asked her about her philosophy on life, though not in so many words. I asked her about how she manages with the little anxieties. I asked her, what would she do, though, if she were in a really bad situation, like, like, like....a concentration camp. My mom is wonderful. She didn't tsk or act like it was an extremely weird question. She just answered, "Well, I would just try to not be part of the problem for anybody. I'd try not to make it any worse. I'd do my best to just be nice, be pleasant."

She extrapolated that advice—just be pleasant—to life in general, not just dealing with a concentration camp.  Wow. It really is that simple, isn't it? I mean, a cynic could say that's kind of Stepford-ish, but when you boil it down, it really might be a good way to get on. "Yes, I was watching this show with these two chefs, just bantering about the food, the recipe, and I thought to myself...they are just so...pleasant," she said. No strife, no drama, no point to prove, no cross to bear, no shoulder chip. Just pleasant. I know, I know, life can't always be like that and we can't always "be pleasant" but, if one is experiencing dissatisfaction with how they feel, how their world is being received by their mind and soul, how they themselves are acting out then, why not just try?

Be present, be pleasant.

I had thought I'd try out meditation. I'd heard so many great things about it. So, having ordered the Pema Chodron CD set on how to meditate, which is live and actually supposed to be like being in a real class, I set out to do this thing. It just was not for me. It wasn't that I couldn't just sit there and do nothing for 10, 20...60 minutes. I kind of could. She even allowed for the wandering monkey mind. No judgement. No "you're so bad because you can't focus or blank out your mind." It wasn't like that at all. You're supposed to just accept the thoughts and let them go. I don't know.

The thing that annoyed me so much about it was that the prescriptions seemed so academic and self-straining. You're supposed to sit a certain way. Your eyes are supposed to be cast this or that way (can't really remember). That there are actual instructions for this kind of killed the "tao" or flow or whatever for me. I'm better off going for a run and letting my mind wander, seriously.

I think the goal of meditation is to be in the present and be mindful. Wouldn't the very best practice for that be just doing it when you're doing what you would do anyway? So, that is what I am going to try and do. Make my life a meditation.

Be present, be pleasant.