Recipe for Enlivenment: Listen. Play. Write.
I’ve spent the last twenty-five years seeking “enlightenment”—a selfless state of peaceful non-existence. One day, although it sounds ridiculously cliché, it occurred to me, instead of looking only at the goal, I should pay attention to the journey happening right now.
Enlivenment, I thought in a moment of clarity, is key!
So, I ask myself “what taps into my vitality center? What makes me feel alive?”
Immediately I know it is something other than the negative punishing voices of self-hate and conditioning that can run amok inside my head, sounding like me, but bringing only suffering. Nor is it the righteous, judging “I know what’s best for you” voice that arises but causes pain to others.
I sit still, noticing, feeling clarity rise up on its own.
It is that which encourages me to Listen, I realize—that which encourages me to be compassionate and kind, to hear and respect others, and to be deeply in touch with and friendly to my inner self. It is that which dares to probe beneath the surface, to be still enough to experience an undistracted mind, to be selfless, to be attentive.
It is also that which encourages me to be Playful—to be light-hearted, not serious, to participate naturally without agenda, to enjoy all that life brings, good, bad and ugly, to be disciplined and organized as well as frivolous and unstructured—that which is willing and ready to say YES to life.
And, it is the Writer in me—that curious combination of inward soul searching through journaling and outward expression through sharing written stories. I write to remember, to record, to listen to myself. I write to pay attention to the details, to share insights and experiences. I write to experience this moment. I write to create something new, to transform and heal and I write to re-condition my response to life—to see my life’s experiences as opportunities not problems, to participate in my life instead of being a victim of it. Writing directly taps into my vitality center.
Yes. That’s it I think.
My recipe for enlivenment is simple: Listen. Play. Write.
