Have you ever tried meditation? Saying one word for 20 minutes, 2 times a day ... Arooshima. Arooshima. Arooshmia. It's worse than running up heartbreak hill with a 20lb pack on your back (like a soldier training for war). I'm well informed on the subject of mindfulness, but teaching the method to others is a little bit like climbing up that hill. 'You have to accept the words and let them go'.
"Let them go? How?"
Focus on the word. Arooshima. Arooshima. Arooshima.
When other words interrupt, accept them, then bring your mind back to the word, Arooshima.
What goes on in your mind? Does it chatter non-stop? Can you make sense of what you're thinking? Does it even matter what's in your mind?
Focus on the word. Arooshima. Arooshima. Arooshima.
One day, I decided to tape the words in my mind (no, I haven't invented a mind-reading machine, but I'm assured neuroscientists and IT folk are working it out at this moment in time). How I managed this was to make myself turn the thoughts into words. Arooshima. Actually, it got a bit tricky when I mentalised (is that even a word?) images and music, but other than that, well, it was a pretty muddled mess.
During the day, it seemed like a fun thing to do. It even made me laugh on occasions. I simply said the words aloud (into my tape) that entered my head. I grasped those thoughts and verbalised them. But at the end of the day, I turned the tape on. Out came the most non-sense I've ever heard in my life.
Arooshima. Arooshima. Arooshima.
When I had ideas, to change the world from one of war into peace, or to help the Prime Minister connect to his people in a different way, they seemed like good thoughts that I wanted to focus on and I allowed them to hang around for a bit.
But, all to quickly, my mind moved on, onto doubts about how these ideas would be taken, wondering how people would perceive them or think there was some other meaning attached to my intentions.
Arooshima. Arooshima. Arooshima.
So I let them go when small memories crept in, those I had forgotten - like the time I fed the swans in Broughty Ferry harbour (near Dundee, in case you're wondering), or watched the shadows cast on my sitting room wall by sunlight waving through the trees.
Then, almost abruptly, my mind tried to figure out the meaning behind the messages that I had been given through challenges that I couldn't handle very well. But when they became too complicated and the wisps floated through my ears, they were replaced quickly with Cher's dixie-country-type sound to 'I Walk Alone' as well as her soul-filled song 'I Hope You Find It' ... and I hoped he would and forgave him for his non-commitment to me on Valentine's Day seven years ago.
Focus on the word. Arooshima. Arooshima. Arooshima.
Tiny fragments whisked their way through my head, the 'Humpty Dumpty' story I had been told at school and the prayer that we used to say in rhyme before we left at the end of the day 'Father just before we go, hear our prayer's tonight ...' Arooshima. Arooshima. Arooshima. The milk we got for free that I couldn't drink because of my sinus trouble and the friends I made as a little girl and, somehow, lost as a big girl.
Some opinionated judgements crept in of people I had had to deal with. I considered them arrogant and ignorant and wondered why they couldn't see how beautiful the world could really be if they relaxed just a little bit. Arooshima. Arooshima. Arooshima. I speculated about how the media had recently told us that the world was run by psychopaths and thought of a previous partner. My heart went out to him and I understood why he did and said the things he did and said. Arooshima. Arooshima. Arooshima.
Precious objects made a flickering appearance, like the tiny jade painted bowls that my ex-boss bought me on his trip. Fragile china from China with delicate paintings of bamboo and flowers on the inside. Those Chinese people who died in Margate flooded in. I felt sorry for them and all the other slaves who just couldn't get out of the horrible predicament they were in. I couldn't think where my bowls were though, I have had so much stored up for so long that they've just become like a lot of material things in my life - a heavy sack to carry on my back. They're of no use to me packed away in a storage unit thousands of miles away from me. For now though, they are safe. One day I'll be able to open up a treasure trove of memories ...
Fantasies of a beautiful home, a cosy little cottage somewhere high up on a hill (so I didn't get flooded out) far away from everyone, and a lovely garden big enough so I could grow my own fruit and vegetables. I wondered then, why some Americans were not able to grow their own ... weird that. Something so basic as not being able to grow your own vegetables. What's the world coming to? Eggs. I passed a girl on the way back from a walk with my dog and saw a bunch of eggs in her basket as she was unloading her car. I needed eggs, and I had forgotten them. Shopping lists, eh? I always used to have one, but since moving here, I've not bothered.
Funny thing is, in all my rambling I've not thought of shopping. Not in the 'girl-sense' anyway. Possibly because I don't really like that hobby anyway. Would you call it a hobby? Shopping for make-up, clothes and jewellery. Shopping for new hairstyles, too. Not me. Don't like either of them. Unless it is for a special night out. Even then, I only go and raid what I have bought through the ages. And then I thought about that woman's car ... she had a big car. I don't like big cars, a small one does me fine. But if I lived far and away from everyone in a cottage on a hill, I would need proper transport, a 4x4 would have to be the one as it would help me cope when the bad weather invaded.
Focus. Arooshima. Arooshima. Arooshima.
I keep thinking of Americans' and how much of a bitter time they're having of it just now. Well, if you watch all the videos on YouTube, you'd be forgiven for thinking that way. You just can't escape it. I try to look for good stuff that will make me laugh or give me something good to think about, but you can't escape it. It just throws itself in your face. You see a link at the side and think 'Oh, that looks interesting' then it turns out to be nothing what the title said it was.
Then memories of the holiday I had way back in 1999. I went to Boston. And, yes, I saw the steps that led down to the pub/bar called 'Cheers' - but did you know that the set is actually in a studio? I didn't go in. Arooshima. Arooshima. Arooshima. Boston had a strange light. Almost twilight. Perhaps because of all the tall buildings blocking out the afternoon sunshine. I walked down a strange street too - not because of the light, but because of the people sat on their doorsteps. It wouldn't have been odd if it hadn't been the middle of winter. Arooshima. Arooshima. Arooshima. I also went I went to Toronto. That was a lovely trip. Kind people, cold climate and twinkling Christmas lights dotted along the eaves of the pretty shops - it was November at the time.
Since I hadn't been away for so long, I wondered where would I go on the next trip? Somewhere warm where the food is delicious ... Italy? I've always wanted to visit Rome and see for myself how impressive it is. Arooshima. Arooshima. Arooshima. Films never do it justice. Gladiator was brilliant, but it irritated me that every movie since then has copied Zimmerman's musical score ... I couldn't help wondering if humanities creative spirit had lapsed a bit and wondered why they couldn't think up anything original anymore. All the pop songs in the charts just seem to be repeats or rehashes of the ones when I was in my heyday in the 80s. Arooshima. Arooshima. Arooshima. Perhaps it was the drugs? They seem to want to legalise the big M at the mo. I personally thought that they should legalise all drugs. Let people get on with it. Let them make their own choices and perhaps then it would stop the bloody barons from making money out of the poor souls addicted to it.
That's a complicated subject to comprehend, addictions. But as a psychotherapist I've been trained to understand what they are. It's such a shame that people get caught up in that cycle when it's only the brain's meaning-seeking mechanism gone awry or, more to the point, the learning urge that's gone a little bit doolally. If only more people knew how to handle it. Cripes, what am I talking about, I can't even deny myself chocolate when I smell it, or look at it! But I've done well so far. I've weaned myself of tea - not had a 'proper' English cuppa since the beginning of the year. And I haven't had a coffee for a whole year. Whoopiedooo! I do feel better for it though.
Focus. Arooshima. Arooshima. Arooshima.
Crumps. I'm supposed to be writing about the thoughts that I was 'talking', but it seems that my thoughts are taking over again ...
Bring yourself back to the task in hand woman.
Yes, an endless babble of nonsense that makes one wonder how on earth I get anything done. I've got about 14 projects on the go just now and not one of them has been tackled today because of the blogs I've been writing. Well, one of them happened to be the blog, so perhaps that's a bit of a white lie. I haven't enough hours in the day to do the others and it's getting dark outside. Where did the day go? With all these thoughts rattling around in my head it's no wonder.
But I'm not the only one who does this. The mind is a brilliant machine that is run by the heart - if only the heart would take control on the odd occasion. I wish I would allow it to do that. It's bloody hard I can tell you. Let me think ... Arooshima. Arooshima. Arooshima.
What was it that the Buddha said? "The true self is glimpsed in the space between thoughts" ...
Space? Between thoughts? Where the hell are they? I certainly don't get any.
Focus on the word. Arooshima. Arooshima. Arooshima.
Hearts and minds. If only more would listen to their hearts. I think we could create a beautiful world if that were the case. Minds (not only my mind, thank heaven) seem to be as chaotic as the world is just now. Perhaps we all ought to learn to still our minds and perhaps glimpse a tiny bit of our true selves.
Kaye Bewley © 2014 – Photograph and words
