Awareness
Tigger is my idol. He's full of fun energy and goodness. He knows no bounds. All he wants to do is play, play, play. I relate to Tigger.
What is Tigger known for? He jumps head-long into everything he does. The Tao of Pooh defines Tigger's persona this way:
"To demonstrate [that the wise know their limitations; the foolish do not], we can think of no one better than Tigger, who doesn't know his limitations ('Tiggers can do everything'), which brings him in lots of trouble." Everything indeed.
Last night I had a dream I could fly. As I soared over rolling hills, I looked down on the sleeping earth. It was illuminated only by occasional street lights and the sun on the horizon which was still several hours away from filling this corner of the globe with its warmth. As my energy whooshed onward, I was filled with an overwhelming sense that I could go anywhere, be anything, accomplish any task. It was wonderful. I felt freedom in every sense of the word. I could go higher. I could go lower. I knew no bounds. There were no bounds. That is, until I starting thinking about how there were no bounds. Which began to slow me down a bit. "No problem!" I thought, "I'll just think harder about how wonder this freedom feels." But the harder I thought about it, the more it weighed me down. The less free I felt.
"What the hell? It's not supposed to work like this!"
That thought brought me waaaay down. Before I knew it, I was not only grounded, but I was paralyzed under the weight of my own being. I couldn't even move my eyes. I was a stone. Stuck. Which made me feel depressed. Which made me feel heavier. Which made feel even more depressed. Which made me....
Oh, how I longed for the freedom once again! "I deserve that freedom! Why me??? What did I do??? Whoa. What was that? I just got even HEAVIER!? That's not FAIR!"
It was quite a powerful dream, all right.
June 6th, 1977 2:00 pm was a turning point for me. I would carry the scars of that moment with me for the rest of my life. To this day, I can look down at those scars and remember the fraction of the instant before I passed through the plate glass sliding door. My last thought was "Oh, the door is closed." A startling awareness of my limitations presented to me even at the ripe old age of eight. My next memories are vivid, but compartmentalized.
I am looking back at the door I just passed through. "That looks like a cartoon window," I think. I look down on my right calf and realize that I've been cut pretty badly. I quickly remove a large shard of glass from my leg in the same way that one might remove a slimy slug that has been discovered crawling up your leg.
My dad carefully climbs through the hole in the door I just made. "I thought it was open! I wanted to show Josie the pool!" I say.
I'm lying down on a lounge chair. My dad is pinching my legs. "OWWW!" I can see he's concerned. I become concerned. I look back at the glass and see the deck covered in blood. My blood. I become relaxed and sleepy. I hear sirens that stop outside the house.
On the stretcher coming down the steps, I look across the street. Eight to ten kids --my friends-- are smashed up against the chain link fence. I hear "[GASP!] It's LISA!" I want to cry, but I'm too sleepy. "I'm going to die," I think.
"Oh good. It's the van kind of ambulance. Not the station wagon kind," I think. Once inside the cab, I say "I want to sleep, Dad."
"No! Do NOT go to sleep!" Sleep, sleep, beautiful sleep. Can I just roll over in this stretcher and curl up and sleep? Why not? I don't see what the fuss is.
All of this happened in the fraction of an instant. Or did it? Thirty years later, I remember it as thought it occured five minutes ago, and while I know that it spanned many grueling, gut-wrenching hours (so my parents have told me) it seemed to happen so quickly from my perspective.
The scars on my leg that so readily became a part of me and how I define myself, remind me of my worldly limitations. No, you can NOT pass through glass doors and remain unscathed. No, you SHOULDN'T be running in the house--just like mom always said.
But then I think about it and each one of us has scars (emotional, physical, professional, educational, social) reminding us of our limitations. Actually, limitations are useful. They provide us with an opportunity to empower ourselves and earn a sense of accomplishment. The looped recording suggesting "you're not good enough" can be internalized and used as a resource to make ourselves into better human beings.
What is Tigger known for? He jumps head-long into everything he does. The Tao of Pooh defines Tigger's persona this way:
"To demonstrate [that the wise know their limitations; the foolish do not], we can think of no one better than Tigger, who doesn't know his limitations ('Tiggers can do everything'), which brings him in lots of trouble." Everything indeed.
Last night I had a dream I could fly. As I soared over rolling hills, I looked down on the sleeping earth. It was illuminated only by occasional street lights and the sun on the horizon which was still several hours away from filling this corner of the globe with its warmth. As my energy whooshed onward, I was filled with an overwhelming sense that I could go anywhere, be anything, accomplish any task. It was wonderful. I felt freedom in every sense of the word. I could go higher. I could go lower. I knew no bounds. There were no bounds. That is, until I starting thinking about how there were no bounds. Which began to slow me down a bit. "No problem!" I thought, "I'll just think harder about how wonder this freedom feels." But the harder I thought about it, the more it weighed me down. The less free I felt.
"What the hell? It's not supposed to work like this!"
That thought brought me waaaay down. Before I knew it, I was not only grounded, but I was paralyzed under the weight of my own being. I couldn't even move my eyes. I was a stone. Stuck. Which made me feel depressed. Which made me feel heavier. Which made feel even more depressed. Which made me....
Oh, how I longed for the freedom once again! "I deserve that freedom! Why me??? What did I do??? Whoa. What was that? I just got even HEAVIER!? That's not FAIR!"
It was quite a powerful dream, all right.
June 6th, 1977 2:00 pm was a turning point for me. I would carry the scars of that moment with me for the rest of my life. To this day, I can look down at those scars and remember the fraction of the instant before I passed through the plate glass sliding door. My last thought was "Oh, the door is closed." A startling awareness of my limitations presented to me even at the ripe old age of eight. My next memories are vivid, but compartmentalized.
I am looking back at the door I just passed through. "That looks like a cartoon window," I think. I look down on my right calf and realize that I've been cut pretty badly. I quickly remove a large shard of glass from my leg in the same way that one might remove a slimy slug that has been discovered crawling up your leg.
My dad carefully climbs through the hole in the door I just made. "I thought it was open! I wanted to show Josie the pool!" I say.
I'm lying down on a lounge chair. My dad is pinching my legs. "OWWW!" I can see he's concerned. I become concerned. I look back at the glass and see the deck covered in blood. My blood. I become relaxed and sleepy. I hear sirens that stop outside the house.
On the stretcher coming down the steps, I look across the street. Eight to ten kids --my friends-- are smashed up against the chain link fence. I hear "[GASP!] It's LISA!" I want to cry, but I'm too sleepy. "I'm going to die," I think.
"Oh good. It's the van kind of ambulance. Not the station wagon kind," I think. Once inside the cab, I say "I want to sleep, Dad."
"No! Do NOT go to sleep!" Sleep, sleep, beautiful sleep. Can I just roll over in this stretcher and curl up and sleep? Why not? I don't see what the fuss is.
All of this happened in the fraction of an instant. Or did it? Thirty years later, I remember it as thought it occured five minutes ago, and while I know that it spanned many grueling, gut-wrenching hours (so my parents have told me) it seemed to happen so quickly from my perspective.
The scars on my leg that so readily became a part of me and how I define myself, remind me of my worldly limitations. No, you can NOT pass through glass doors and remain unscathed. No, you SHOULDN'T be running in the house--just like mom always said.
But then I think about it and each one of us has scars (emotional, physical, professional, educational, social) reminding us of our limitations. Actually, limitations are useful. They provide us with an opportunity to empower ourselves and earn a sense of accomplishment. The looped recording suggesting "you're not good enough" can be internalized and used as a resource to make ourselves into better human beings.
posted by LisAnt at 8:52 AM
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