On pain, pleasure, & puking (the ultimate letting go!)

“Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”

Ferris Bueller

I am a huge fan of stopping and looking around. I also realize that no matter how much I slow down, time (life) keeps moving ‘pretty fast.’ I am abundantly grateful for the opportunities I have each day whether it’s waking up in my own bed and snuggling with my cat or sailing across the Mediterranean or dancing with writing monks or flipping through my journals to see the highs and lows of this journey I call “my life.”

"you can't see this by plane" ©h3images.com

This morning I was doing some journal-flipping alongside Aslan (my cat) and I came across a passage I wrote last month while traveling. 

“If we have the aspiration to stop resisting those parts of ourselves that we find unacceptable and instead begin to breathe them in, this gives us much more space… This is the fundamental change of attitude—this working with pain and pleasure in a revolutionary and courageous way.” Pema Chödron

Crossing from San Pietro to Menorca (35 hours)

The seas were wild. I got lots of practice going with the flow and remembering that as Kermit the Frog says, “it’s not easy being green.” I had to let go of my dreams that I could be a regular crewmember. I exchanged them for many many hours in my bunk, pretending I was rock-a-bye baby… the only comfort I found for any length of time came while being sound asleep.

There’s this funny thing about being surrounded by people who really care about us. My friends and husband, Bill, are so worried about my seasickness that they’re talking about putting me on a plane when it’s time to sail to Barcelona. They are more worried about my pain and discomfort than I am.

"crossing to Barcelona" ©h3images.comSeasickness is a part of my story. It’s not one I want to fondle nor can I ignore it. I do my best to prepare—put on a patch and a positive attitude—then pray for smooth sailing.

Usually the queasiness comes on like a lightning bolt and, if I’m lucky, it disappears as quickly. There’s actually something a tad bit cool about being tethered to the boat, feeling the ocean spray against my skin, and hurling my insides into the roaring sea. It’s the ultimate letting go! 

“Pain is not a punishment; pleasure is not a reward.” Pema Chödron

I could get all worked up and say ‘why me?’ or ‘poor Kayce,’ but what good would that do? I could fondle the story that I’m not a good sailor or I shouldn’t go on boats if I’m going to get sick. On the flip side, I could try to convince myself that I lead a charmed life (which I admit does feel true)… but in reality, this is my life… all of it—puking my guts out and seeing the beauty of foreign places.

Pain and pleasure go together. Without the pain of the crossing, I would not have witnessed the magnificent open sea.

Where might you slow down in your life?  Do you carry a story that could use a little reframing? What would be your ultimate letting go?

I invite you to spend some time today exploring the interweaving of pain and pleasure. (Let me know how I might help.)

One final thought - Is there a relationship where you are more invested in the person's story than they are? Ponder this.