Tag Archives: Yelling

Smash The Ball!

Bookends, it seems.  Two days ago I wrote “Fill The Room!”  This morning, my love of tennis took over.  I feel this surge of energy coming out .. blasting out!  And tennis analogies speak loud.

I’ve never really blasted.  Mostly I’ve embraced, which is lovely.  I’ve marvelled at the players who can build a point, and finish it off with a medium speed ball that’s just beyond the fully stretched opponent.  The sweetness of artistry, not the crudeness of blunt force.  

I love watching a player caress a “slice backhand”, hitting with a long left-to-right stroke so the ball skips sideways when it reaches the opponent.  It’s so hard to return.  Again, tennis as an art form.  Or consider the “drop shot”.  The other person is way at the back of the court and you cozy a soft shot that barely gets over the net.  The element of surprise is a formidable weapon.  Or … when the opponent rushes to the net, hit a long, looping ball over their head – a “lob”.  Properly applied, the ball lands just inside the baseline – virtually a sure winner.

Ahh … Picasso. 

But today I’m not in the mood for the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City.  I want Lebron James dunking the basketball over a member of the other team, slamming it down with his teeth gleaming.  I want the speed, the passion, the fierceness.

So today I smash the tennis ball!  Delicacy be damned.  “Hit the ball hard, Bruce!  Pick an empty corner of the court and give ‘er.  You can even yell if you want.”  

My home is sturdy, and verges on soundproof.  I now have two choices for raising the decibels.  Or I can do them both till the cows come home.  “Grrr!” some more.

Fill The Room!

I’ve been on many meditation retreats in Massachusetts.  They’re mostly silent but every evening a teacher would give us a talk in the meditation hall, about such things as the mind, the qualities of spiritual life, and love.  I’ve seen so many teachers at the front of the room.  Almost all of them were “with” me and the other participants.  But there was one who stood taller.  Her name was Gina Sharpe.  As she unfolded her thoughts to us, something strange was happening to me.  I was being entered, graciously, from 100 feet away.  Gina was spreading through the hall.  Unlike every other person, she was filling the room.

It wasn’t Gina’s topic (which I forget).  It wasn’t her command of the English language.  It had nothing to do with people skills.  The mystery sat in front of me … and came inside.

I’m in the teacher training program for the Evolutionary Collective.  There’s a four-part course about connecting deeply with each other that I’m learning to facilitate.  Another mystery!  Patricia Albere, the founder of the EC, has been coaching me in the elusive teacher function.  Yesterday she told me to feel the fire of the work.  “Fill the room, Bruce.”

I realize that in my life so far I haven’t extended myself outwards enough.  Being careful doesn’t cut it.  I haven’t let the benign power in me explode into the world.  So today I decided to erupt.  I started yelling in the privacy of my home.  I knew that no one else could hear me, so I let ‘er rip!  “Fill the room!”  Over and over again.  Imagine two walls facing each other.  I created my arms and legs spreading in an X shape.  I saw my hands touch the joining of ceiling and wall at the midpoint, and my feet doing the same where the wall meets the floor.  And I yelled some more.

I’m not used to yelling.  I’m used to the sweetness of love.  But I kept breaking the decibel barrier.  There’d be a twinge here and there about how weird I am, but I shoved that aside.

Then it was time for groceries.  I drove to St. Thomas for the necessaries.  On the highway, I decided “Why not?”

“Fill the car!”

I mellowed myself once I was in town but there still was a silent fierceness that twisted my mouth.

I see that not having written in my blog for seventeen days is timid, a world away from fierce.  Time for a change.

How much of me am I willing to accept and allow to flourish?  Apparently lots.  I might even yell again tomorrow.