Returning back to the words awkwardly and a little forcibly appearing on the screen before me, I set aside my neurotic "googling" behavior of temporarily satiating my mind's hunger for security, affirmation. My mind is undeviating in its hunger for more, more, more. More knowledge, more time, more pleasure. Scarcity mode of thinking: the fear and belief that there is never enough, a bottomless pit waiting to be filled, full, but to no avail. It is simply never enough to appease the mind's incessant wanting. Scarcity-based thinking inevitably perpetuates the belief that the present state is not enough as is, that there is always a hole to be filled, driving many, myself included, into addictive thinking and behaving. Observing this conditioned thought pattern, I inwardly pat myself on the back for a "job well done" of nearly perfecting this practice. Yes, it is a practice. Whether that practice is conscious or not and serves your highest is a whole different matter.
Becoming conscious of this often times debilitating pattern of thought and behavior is where it all begins and ends, quite possibly. And, unfortunately, for myself and many of you fellow recovering perfectionists, this is where the judgement card comes into play, the condemning voice, perhaps the bully within you constantly on the prowl for "bad" behavior. The self-judgment and criticism for our perceived shortcomings come strong and hard for most of us. For me, its the judgments around not being enough, not doing enough, an aversion and rejection of my shadow qualities: the anger, guilt, selfishness, laziness, greed and addictive behavior. As of late, my inner perfectionist, has lavishly adorned herself with the new label, "Spiritual Saint," minus the merciful, compassionate nature. She is the voice berating me for anything less than perfect attendance to the here and now. She points out and ruminates on my inability to show up, authentically, wholly 110 percent of the time. Anything less is met with criticism and self-rejection.
The voice taunts me, "Look at you, you fraud. You only want others to think of you as this perfectly zen, kumbaya yogi who has her shit together 100 percent of the time. If they only knew your shadow, your weaknesses, your vulnerabilities." Maybe, just maybe you can relate to the voice in varying tones, traits and degrees. So, not only do we have to confront a prevalent way of self-evacuation, by means of autopilot, checking out or numbing out, but now, we have the judgements added to the mix. It is a windy, curvy road inward, a journey home to ourselves, where we encounter all of these voices: the judgments, the fears, the stories intertwined but precariously positioned on particular expectations and images of ourselves.
And, somewhere along the way, we (meaning I) forget the whole purpose of the quest, the journey inward. To awaken to what is. Not to push away, cast aside or dilute the deemed shadow qualities. But, to turn on the light to it all. And, in the words of my teacher, once the light is on, with the cobwebs and dust settling in the corners, you can't unsee. The practice is to see it all, and to see it all and embrace it with compassion. You show up for what is, not for what it once was or what may be. You show up for the given moment, regardless of whether the dualistic mode of thinking has already gone in to seek its claim on the labels of "good" and "bad." In my own practice, and boy is it that, it's a constant recalibration back to my present state, feelings, fears, discomforts and all.
It's as simple as driving in traffic, that is in terms of explanation factor not necessarily the ease of a practice. Yup, the doomed, witching hour when all you want is to get to your destination, to be anywhere but where you are, with no patience to show up to the in-between, the transitionary time. So, you evacuate the present moment. And your mind is off spinning into a thousand different directions, what you're going to make for dinner that night, oh and maybe you should call that friend of yours you've been meaning to call to kill the time, and man, now you're going to be late for work and that's going to set your whole day off, and now you're angry. You're angry at yourself for leaving too late, at the driver next to you in the Subaru with a "Save the Earth" sticker on its bumper for congesting your route and now look at you, how horrible of a person are you for sending your unjustified anger to that kind individual who probably is just as fed up as you are. And, the whirlings of the mind are just getting started.
But, all the meanwhile, amidst the chaotic fluctuations, where are you? Well, considering I just experienced this same drama early this morning in route to work, I'd have to say I was sitting front and center in the "I deserve to be angry" seat. Because, of course, who likes to be stuck in traffic, rushing to work? But, the point is, I created the drama on top of the drama. Our reaction to the current state of things follows a similar pattern, the tailspin into a dissatisfaction of the present moment, a habitual checking out.
Through my yoga teacher training program, which has since…dare I say it…come and gone and metamorphosized into this next phase of integration and creation, the daunting unknown of what now has come bubbling up to the surface. Of all the things I learned in my training, the most prevalent teaching here and now (no pun intended) seems to be this: yoga asana is merely a tool to purposely create drama and study ourselves in it, our tendencies, our modes of thinking and reacting, and pure and simple, but not so, our only task is to Show Up for what is, by means of the breath. To show up for the sensations, the thoughts, the feelings.
Currently, so many fears are whirling in my own inner world, namely the fear of this next convoluted phase of my life, yet another awkward transitionary period to reflect on what was and to move forward into what is to come. Coming into stillness, but not staleness. It is a moment of pause, an often times painfully uncomfortable and unsettling feeling that I should be "doing" more, that I'm not doing enough to work toward the intentions I have set out for myself. Knowing my procrastinating tendencies perpetuated by worry and fear, I will now, give them a voice to whoever is listening out there. Here it goes.
My heart truly wants to be heard, to be expressed, to be given a voice, a platform to stand on. And, the ways in which my heart is yearning to be expressed is in the form of the following: teaching yoga asana, offering Reiki sessions and semi-starting my own business (more on this later), returning to school to work toward a masters in counseling, and writing, in whatever shape or form that comes in…blogs, poetry, a book. My heart wants to lead. Scary? Yes. Uncomfortable? Absolutely.
It feels as though my dreams are circling and drawing me in, but the winding path toward them is unclear. And, of course all the meanwhile, the ingrained stories of unworthiness are fighting to survive. This transitionary phase draws me in, beckoning me to sit in the stillness of it all, that the here and now is alright even in its confusion and stagnation. In fact, it is more than alright, it is perfect in all its perfect imperfection, not necessarily in the dualistic good/bad qualities but in its inherent worth for being the only moment guaranteed. Each moment invites us to show up, to savor. For it is in the practice of savoring, that we are coaxed into not merely allowing, but appreciating what is. A daily, moment to moment practice. And, to allow for ourselves and others, a little more space for grace in the stillness for our own unique journeys home. That is my practice.
