It’s amazing how things come to you when you’re aware. Yesterday’s post was great to clear my head (writing definitely is the best way to lay my thoughts out/clear my head/ and move on), to fight the fight, but it’s like some invisible force pulls me back to my light-hearted life is fun attitude. Balance. I’ve been reading a lot lately, lots of young adult books and series (just finished the Mortal Instruments, which I did enjoy), while these are entertaining and suck me in, they are a little dark. For some reason, though, Stargirl appeared on my reading list and made it home from the library with me. It wasn’t on the top of my list, it was short compared to the dauntingly lengthy series I had been reading. It has a stick figure girl and child like drawn star on the cover, it just seemed more childish, I was hesitant, just like with the Tao of Pooh. But it’s funny that these simple/childish books have made the biggest impact. I think it is their simplicity that I love, just like: life is fun, what an easy concept. I read inspirational books all the time: Dyer, Tolle, the Gita, Chopra, Thich Nhat Hanh; but it is this little book that is aimed at teens and that is not technically labeled inspirational that strikes the biggest accord. Stargirl seems tangible, someone I could relate too, putting all my teachings into practices in hidden ways that many may not grasp reading the book. I was going to return my library books, but for some reason there was something drawing me to that book, some force placing it in my hands saying ‘read it.’ In my spiritual journey the last year I’ve learned to listen to this voice because often it knows what is best for me. I want to think and have a defense of memes to talk me out of doing, but that voices, that voice just does it. I don’t fight it and start reading, it is exactly what I needed, timing is such a funny thing. Dr Dyer often seems to post blogs just for me, little gifts delivered to me at the right time. Signs, I’m into signs right now.
I fell instantly in love with Star people. Here she whirls into Leos world with floor sweeping skirts, a Ukelele, pet mouse, sunflower bag, strumming on her uke singing happy birthday to anyone in the cafeteria. She keeps tabs on everyone in town, making handmade cards (I felt a real kindred spiritness here) when people are sick or for their birthdays. Anonymous acts of kindness, never wanting credit but to serve. Even her name, Stargirl
I’m not my name. My name is something I wear, Like a shirt. It gets worn, I outgrow it, I change it.
It reminds me of the Tao:
The Tao that can be told
is not the eternal Tao.
The name that can be named
is not the eternal name.
The Tao is both named and nameless.
Genius! Initially the students don’t know what to think. Surely she’s not real, unable to define her they are left to label her as ‘weird’ and ‘strange’.
She laughed when there was no joke. She danced when there was no music.
She had no friends, yet she was the friendliest person in school. She was elusive. She was today. She was tomorrow. She was the faintest scent of a cactus flower, the flitting shadow of an elf owl. We did not know what to make of her. in our minds we tried to pin her to cork board like a butterfly, but the pin merely went through and away she flew.
Gradually, though, they fall in rapture with her and her positive attitude is infectious. As it progresses they turn. She ‘cheers for the other team.’ She defies the group, wrapped up in winning, they use her a scapegoat to blame the loss on and then all of her positivity is a negative. When asked why she cheers when the other team scores: when the other team scores a point and you see how happy it makes all their fans, doesn’t it make you happy, too? Stargirl sees, she sees and cares about people. She doesn’t see the negative and the image that we often do. She is like Thoreau: it’s not what you look at but what you see.
And there was more to her seeing than that. What she saw, she felt. Her eyes went straight to her heart.
It’s in the morning, for most of us. It’s that time, those few seconds when we’re coming out of sleep but we’re not really aware yet. For those few seconds we’re something more primitive than what we are about to become. We have just slept the sleep of our most distant ancestors, and something of them and their world still clings to us. For those few moments we are unformed, uncivilized. We are not the people we know as ourselves (true-self), but creatures more in tune with a tree than a keyboard. We are untitled, unnamed, natural, suspended between was and will be, the are, for a few brief moments, anything and everything we could be. And then. . .we become ourselves.
Bam, The Shift that I read last summer. When we are born we are our true-selves, after that conditioning molds us into our false-self and conventional thought and behavior. Stargirl is pure (like my post with my brother), child like. Look how many great books she’s already demonstrated. Probably my favorite line is on nothing, that reminds me of the Tao too:
Sometimes I try to erase myself. The hard part is erasing my senses-my eyes, my ears, my nose, my tongue. And last to go is my brain. My thoughts, memories, all the voices inside my head. That’s the hardest, erasing my thoughts (now we’ve covered Hanh and mindfulness). I’m gone. I’m nothing. And then the world is free to flow into me like water into an empty bowl. And. . . I see I hear. But not with eyes and ears. I”m not outside my world anymore, and I’m not really inside it either. The thing is, there’s no difference anymore between me and the universe. The boundary is gone. I am it and it is me. I am a stone, a cactus thorn. I am rain. I like that most of all being rain.
This absolutely floored me. It really just had the most profound affect on my mood and outlook. It made me aspire to be more star-like, just like the kids at the end starting clubs where they had to do something for someone else everyday. To see, to meditate, to be nothing. How was I ever hesitant to read this? Who would have thought that such knowledge could be found in a little unassuming book!
Of all the unusual features of Stargirl, this struck me as the most remarkable. Bad things did not stick to her. Correction: her bad things did not stick to her. If we were hurt, if we were unhappy or otherwise victimized by life, she seemed to know about it, and to care, as soon as we did. But bad things falling on her — unkind words, nasty stares, foot blisters — she seemed unaware of. I never saw her look in a mirror, never heard her complain. All of her feelings, all of her attentions flowed outward. She had no ego