Chiaroscuro

Dear Readers!

My personal trainer yesterday challenged me to get out of my head and live more in my heart than I have, especially in the gym and during the workout.  I have been trying to think this through--or, more appropriately, feel this through.  I know I have a tendency, as many academics do, to overthink and sometimes approach things perhaps too intellectually; it is why we are fit for the jobs we do. (Actually, I am not so sure that it is possible to overthink, especially in our society where so much thinking doesn't occur, but he may have a point, at least as far as my workouts go.)

Frankly, gyms are hard places for many of us to "tune in" to our heart, soul, or spirit.  One of the reasons I like yoga (even though I do not get to formal yoga sessions as much as I would like) is because the music and the poses help me to tune in and listen closely.  Gyms in general are so loud--in fact, so loud that even if I wanted to listen to classical or ambient music during my workout as a way of tuning in, the blaring thump-thump-thump of the bass in the sound system drowns it out.  Our gym is better than some, but there are still far too many speakers set far too loudly.  I suffer from hyper-vigilance, a condition I cannot cure, which means that the noise probably gets to me more than some, but I believe this may be the case for many more than those who are as vocal as I am about it.

Additionally, I do not do repetitions or counting multiple sets of large numbers well.  This comes from being bored very easily, and having adjusted my life pretty well in these forty-six years not to be bored.  I naturally tune out when I am doing something repetitive, tuning in to my thoughts, which are normally more interesting then the activity, and then I lose count!  My wife has taught me a trick of counting in sets of ten, which seems to be working better--at least I do not find myself losing count as often.

All of this being said, I have to return to the central thought here, which is living less in my head and more in my heart in general (and in the workouts in particular).  What I discovered as I reflected on this throughout yesterday and yesterday evening was a kind of chiaroscuro in the soul that I had not quite owned yet.  Yes, I have been through years of counseling and dealt bravely and courageously with a lot of very difficult issues, coming to a place of happiness and contentment with much about myself, although this does not mean that I am not driven always to be better.  However, I must admit even though I do not like this fact that there is still much anger in my heart, even though I am in general a grateful and upbeat person (which is not an act).  I am angry about broad issues--for instance, income inequality.  Growing up in Appalachia in a poor coal mining region, I saw much poverty and struggle, even in my own family.  And the story that those who are poor do not work hard enough is just erroneous.  My blessed maternal grandmother worked for years, lived on a small income from her husband's black lung, and gave so much love to me and others, could barely keep her house warm enough in the winters.  I do not know why she had to live like that when there are others, while others in Buffalo and elsewhere that I have known can remodel their homes for tens of thousands of dollars when the home was just remodeled a few years previously and is quite luxurious as it is.

I am also angry that people are not nicer to one another and more considerate, instead of just being in it for themselves.  The anonymity of the Internet allows many people to express things that they might never say in person to another.  And the hate expressed in many posts there just makes me despair of people's hearts.  I wonder sometimes where the love has gone.

Chiaroscuro is the balance of light and dark elements in a painting.  I think this is also a good term for what I see in my own spirit these days, and which I am coming deeper to understand and perchance accept.  The light and the dark have to be a balance, I suppose; otherwise, it is all light with no shadow telling you what is light and what isn't.  By growing to accept some of this anger, and turn it into a thirst for justice perhaps, I may be able to go deeper and live more authentically in the moment as I workout, write, teach, pray, and do all that I do.