Hello dear friends,

Do you ever find yourself re-learning all kinds of things that you thought you really knew?

I want to live in the moment called “kairos,” that is, in “sacred time, THE moment,” rather than in “chronos,” the day-to-day scramble to get more things done in less time, more efficiently.  And I do get those “kairos moments,” as I call them, pretty regularly.  Other phrases describe these experiences, too:  “going with the flow,” “in the Tao,” “timelessness,”  “Flow,” “enoughness.”  It’s the sense, for me, of extreme “all right-ness,” and occurs when I’m painting, when I’m alone in nurturing solitude, or when I’m having a “d & r” — a “deep and real” encounter with a loved one.

Recently, in light of how much I’m enjoying arting, I’ve signed up for a myriad of art journaling courses on-line, and amazon certainly knows by now just what books to suggest to me.  So now I have potentially hours of videos to watch and books to peruse, and it’s so ironic that this abundance in my life has become a source of anxiety as well as the inspiration I was hoping for.  I have the urge to tell dear spouse and dear son to just go away and leave me alone so that I can watch my videos online.  I’ve found myself organizing the downloads efficiently and counting the hours of each, placing them on my to-do lists for the perfect times and days when I’ll most probably be unable to “produce” and will need to just rest.  I worry that I won’t get them viewed before . . . .  before what?  Well, before it’s too late —- whatever that might mean!

I’ve been experiencing deeply my old familiar “I don’t have enough time!!!”

In speaking with an “anam cara,” a “soul friend,” about this, she slowed me down and asked if I’d ever had the experience of being filled up in a certain area of interest or study.  Yes, I had.  She then suggested going within to see what I really need.  Is it really more time daily to pursue these studies?  If so, how much, exactly?  As I settled in, feet on floor grounded, breathing slowed and monkey mind napping, I moved into the “d & r” moment.  The words came to me, “I DO have enough time to do all that I need.  Maybe I’ll actually do all that I have planned, and maybe I won’t, but I DO have enough time to do all that I need.  I have enough.  No worries.”

At the same time that I was experiencing that, my analytic mind was jumping up and down saying “Oh, another cliche, Cat?  Do you always think in cliches?  So how much truth do you think there is in a cliche, eh?  As if you don’t know this already!  Can’t you come up with something more original?”

And then another voice in my mind, a much calmer one, added “It’s okay.  It’s okay.”

“Oh, that’s just another cliche!”

The calm voice just laughed a bit, and I remembered how many, many times these mental conversations have occurred.  How many years does it take to deeply incorporate what I already know?  Well, I guess that’s why it’s called “practice.”  And instead of feeling badly about these repeated conversations, I actually felt rather kindly toward my inner voices.

Too often I find myself fantasizing about how much I could do if I had just one extra hour of productivity a day.  Then the other day a dear friend wrote in her blog about how much she wished she had more time to do all the wonderful things she wanted to do.  It was an “aha!” moment for me, as this friend is an extremely energetic and generous woman whom I had been envying for the “so many more hours” of time that it seems she has to do what she wanted and/or felt called to do.  This friendship has an added poignancy in that she has dealt with aggressive breast cancer this year.  I witnessed her growing weaker, sicker, and more fatigued as her treatment progressed, and her slowly coming back to health and energy.  It seemed to me that when she was at her worst, she had finally slowed down enough for me to keep up with her, energy-wise.  While I have rejoiced as she has recovered, I have also longed to “recover” more energy and health, myself.

My “aha!” was that if this energetic woman had so many things to do that she wished for more time in the day, then even if I had another hour or three in the day I would find worthy and wonderful things to completely fill them, and I would most probably keep wishing for more time, too.  That could become a neverending cycle! I didn’t want that.  It’s not actually more hours that I need, but more moments of that timelessness that I love.

Most of us don’t really need more; mostly, we need “deeper.”

Dear friends, how do you deal with these sorts of things?  Do you, too, long to go “deeper”?  Do you find it easy to do so?  I’d love to hear what you have to say.

With much love,