Recently I had a total facepalm moment. You know what I’m talking about. It’s like Homer Simpson’s “D’oh!”s but stronger. More like the moment you realize that all your life you have been Doing It All Wrong. There is a better way. So you slap the palm of your hand to your face. Yeah. I could have had a V-8.

That’s what has been happening to me about Wants. About saying what I want.

I figured out I have been going about my Wants all wrong. Well, not wrong exactly, since nothing is ever “wrong” in the larger sense (it’s just a learning opportunity, right?). But certainly inefficient. Here’s why.

I was never saying what I really wanted.

I suspect I am not the only one doing this. Hey, I lived on the planet for many years not realizing what I was doing. Or, rather, not doing. Do you say what you really want? Really?

"Life is glorious, but life is also wretched. It is both. Appreciating the gloriousness inspires us, encourages us, cheers us up, gives us a bigger perspective, energizes us. We feel connected. But if that’s all that’s happening, we get arrogant and start to look down on others, and there is a sense of making ourselves a big deal and being really serious about it, wanting it to be like that forever. The gloriousness becomes tinged by craving and addiction. On the other hand, wretchedness — life’s painful aspect — softens us up considerably. Knowing pain is a very important ingredient of being there for another person. When you are feeling a lot of grief, you can look right into somebody’s eyes because you feel you haven’t got anything to lose — you’re just there. The wretchedness humbles us and softens us, but if we were only wretched, we would all just go down the tubes. We’d be so depressed, discouraged, and hopeless that we wouldn’t have enough energy to eat an apple. Gloriousness and wretchedness need each other. One inspires us, the other softens us. They go together.” ~Start Where You Are: A Guide to Compassionate Living by Pema Chödrön.

It is the 4th day of the month and I have not yet published a Monthly Message. This weighs heavily on me for a number of reasons, but the weight, the crushing weight of the water that covers me slows me down, leaves me gasping, and caused me to spend the better part of my day clicking links in my Facebook stream, is a stronger source of concern.

Wait, what? Facebook? Oh, did you think I meditated for five hours a day? Ahem.

I am not the only one feeling this inertia, feeling like I am under water as thick as molasses, upside-down, trying to get somewhere. Friends feel this too. Clients. It is as if we collectively dropped down into low gear, slow motion. In the past I would have persevered, pushed on, kept up like a bulldozer. Sometimes that works and you break through, but sometimes it is more like repeatedly hitting your head against a brick wall. Ow. I would rather look at what gifts the feeling of being under water is giving me -- I know there are some, but since I am still immersed I cannot yet see them. Still, it would feel better to be productive and to change the flow of energy gently, if I can. So I thought you would like to know what I am doing about it.