Silence is free

Off to my silent retreat at Spirit Rock on Saturday.  I did have to pay for the 7 days of food and accommodations. But the silence is free.

Money - that strange paper and metal stuff that only has value because we say it does - buys time.

Twice this week I bought someone's time.  

First, I had an energy session with a gifted energy worker. It was uniquely profound.  She moved her hands inches, sometimes feet over my body starting at my feet and moving up. Somehow this allowed the areas of the body to open so excess or blocked energy could release. 

She offered physical, emotional and spiritual ideas about what energy was moving and what was still holding on.  Even though she did not touch me, the sensations where at times very strong and intense, then sometimes so subtle I didn't trust my own feeling of them.  

In yoga, we say that they body remembers everything.  Our cells store memory and emotion that we are not able to process, look at, let move through. It was clear that this is true on the energetic level as well.  There were places that evoked emotion and at the end I was very very tired. 

The interesting money part came at the end. The session was two hours and this person gave me the "friend rate."  I thought even her full price was way too low (considering her training, skill and the time she spent with me), so I gave her a large tip. I was on my way down the sidewalk and she came out of her house to very sweetly dispute the amount of the check.

Multiple things when through my head at once:

1. I thought she'd just appreciate the tip (I did consider that this was masking the darker side of, "I thought she'd think I was fabulous and generous and rich," and I don't think it is).

2. Doesn't she think she's worth that?  I am offering her my perceived value of her time.

3. Now it's all awkward because she wants me to come back in and write a new check and I just want to quietly run away.

Then she said:

If you don't let me charge you the "friend rate," it will be like we're not friends.

Ouch!

Hmmm.  The exchange of money between friends can be difficult. But I don't think it has to be.

I used to pay Madeleine for monthly massages and that was not awkward. I take money from my friends when they come to the studio and that's not.... oh, actually that is awkward.  I'm often compelled to give discounts, or free classes, or give them the reasons that I can't do those things.

Sigh. 

It's so easy to see these things in other people and think that I'd be better at handling a given situation. It's that darn the people in our lives are mirrors so we can see ourselves thing.

This clearly deserves some more time. Which I'll have a lot of next week.

And there are way more words here than I wanted to use. Making up for next week when they will be stuck in my head with no emergency exit.

By the way, the second bit of time I bought was a Rolfing session today. It too was amazing in every opposite way.

And she charged me full price. And I tipped her. And we were both happy.

Not shopping does not equal not spending money

Not sure why this seems like a new piece of information.

Random monetary updates:

• Went to Crossroads Trading Co last week and Allie, thrilled beyond belief to be shopping at a "thrift store," got two tops for a whopping $12.  Score.
  
• I signed up for New Leaf Ayurveda's weekly meals for $50.  Once a week I pick up AMAZING food that lasts me 4 days and I have to share with a friend in order not to waste any.
• I really want some glass containers to transport/store this food in (rather than plastic).  A rare yard sale find.  Will have to keep looking.
• Allie wanted to paint her room, so Ron went to Green Sacramento (what a good boy) and got her some Pale Sunshine.  It was a questionable purchase - not exactly a material thing, yet the can is waste to be dealt with.  I think he even snuck in a roller.  Minus one.
• I ordered two Yamuna balls AND the book.  It categorizes itself as a business expense. Still, it seems blatant.  Minus three.
• We got a new (old) bench and chair for the porch.  So cute!

I got this really strong hit yesterday that all of this stuff means nothing.  Not that all of life means nothing, but that the stuff - the couch pillows, the dining table, the super cute bench, even the precious photos - in the end will not have any meaning. 

Everything is on it's way to the trash (or recycler), it's just a matter of when.

Jen Hoffman teaches this in her brilliant Inspired Office classes.  It took a lot of pressure off of me about throwing something away.  It stresses me to think of sending something to the landfill... so, of course, not sending as much stuff there is the point of all this. 

At the same time, I have old stuff that I want to get rid of.  If I've used it in every way possible, and no one else in the whole world might ever want it (say, a pair of old undies that have been used for dusting, shoe shining and are ripped), it might need to go in the trash. Even if I don't do it, eventually, it will end up there.

The point is using something to the max, and then sending it on its way which might be a friend, craigslist, recycling or... the can.

You can't take it with you.

Uh, couldn't be more obvious.  However, to feel it like I did yesterday is different than hearing it your whole life.  I've been thinking about death a lot lately.  Mine and others'.  And it just sinks like a stone that as that moment comes, it won't matter if I have glass containers for my food or not.

What does matter?  What will matter in that moment? Isn't that what we're all trying to figure out.

Confusion

I really battle with deciding between two approaches to spiritual life.

The first is: never talk about what's missing. What you're afraid of. What you don't want to have happen.

The second is that we have to be honest about what we're feeling. We have to acknowledge, even embrace, fears and difficulties. I know this doesn't mean dwelling on them, but still, it feels very contradictory to the first idea.

Right now what I really want to do is admit that I'm scared. I'm afraid of not having enough. But I don't want to give it power by talking about it.

But there it is again. I'm afraid.

I could list the things I'm afraid of, but I think they really boil down to lack. There won't be enough... money, students, inspiration, love.

And I can't just cover it up with a new shirt.