Wholeness

Where You end and I begin,
The separation is not clear.
The womb from which my heart began,
Forever tied to the beating of your own.

As one you birthed me into this world,
A separation that etched out my heart,
My body, the temple of my Spirit.

It is no mystery why we both are here,
Intertwined in similar stories,
Mistaken beliefs of unworthiness.
Forgotten.
Veiled.

But, perfectly imperfect we press on,
Picking up the pieces,
Making amends for all the generations,
That came before,
To boldly, unapologetically proclaim
Our power, our voice, our love.

Though the ancestors before us,
Shied away,
From the Truth,
The heart.

Building up walls, instead of safe passages.
Fortresses, instead of temples,
Desecrating the temple with fear,
Instead of love.
Darkness,
In place of light.

But I stand before you now,
Seen, vulnerable, awake.
As mother and daughter, we stand,
Singing a similar melody,
Distinct in voice and pitch.

An agreement we made long ago,
To journey alongside one another,
To do the best we can, in each moment,
Releasing ourselves from the burden,
Of perfection, of something to be attained.
To recognize our innate self worth,
By simply breathing.

To forgive one another for mistaking,
Who we are as broken,
Something to be fixed.
To free ourselves from the burden,
Of unworthiness, guilt, shame.

To reclaim our roots,
Of wholeness and worth,
To flourish yet again in our beauty
And love.
To remember,
The core of who we are,
Boldly reclaiming the lost jewel in the city.

That all we are is a burning flame of
Love.
Burning down all the walls,
The fortresses,
Resurrecting the temple,
Sacred
Whole.

Mother, daughter,
Crone, maiden.
All one.
Unfurling from the other.
A continuation of the seed,
Planted long ago,
A reclamation of all forms.
In wholeness once more.

Reclamation

A pain unnamed,
Masked, hidden.
A feeling unfelt,
Buried, burrowed,
Forgotten.

A wounded innocence,
A buried gem,
Hidden, in fear,
Of misuse, abuse.

Dusted over by layers,
Of fear,
Conditioning,
Distrust,
In Self.

Its pureness salvaged,
In wholeness.
Pain masked by silence.
Invisible.
Unseen.
Waiting.

A vulnerability,
The truth discarded,
Cast aside.

The veil dropped,
The armor in precarious perfection.
Cold, hardened, withdrawn.
Preservation of an innocence within,
A jewel in the city.

The fear of being seen,
In the truth of the heart,
the unstruck instrument,
The inner compass.
Hidden behind the veil,
Of illusion.

To be seen,
Reclaimed.
Raw, exposed, vulnerable.
A seductive dance,
Controlling the outward elements,

In hopes,
Of stifling inner chaos,
Of feelings unnamed,
Unfelt,
Unmasked.

Seen.
       In perfect.
                     Wholeness.
                                   A reclamation.

Hunger

Seduction at its finest,
A tantalizing flux and fluctuation of thought.
A gnawing, a hunger.
Mistaken for physical.

Duped yet again by attachment,
To fill, to fix, to fade,
The gnawing of a feeling unnamed.
For naming it would mean tuning in,
Into the unknown of a feeling,
Raw, vulnerable, undone.

A reaction convoluting the gap,
Between feeling and fix.
Awareness and action.
Allowing no space for choice, no room for grace.

Duped, tricked, seduced.
To numb out this unnamed, unfelt feeling,
A gnawing of a need not met.
Resorting to the commonly practiced comfort,
Food as refuge, solace.

Belly full, soul empty.
Aching felt, guilt brewing,
For the perpetuation of self-induced suffering.
A hunger remains.

To Be Seen

To be seen,
Heard, felt, held in beloved arms.
The heart holding space for what is,
In this moment, you are loved.
In this moment, you are held, nurtured.

No judgments, conditions, expectations.
All is as it is, with each breath.
The heart feeling deeply, reverently, adoringly.
For the inner wounds, the scared and abandoned,
The fearful, disjointed parts tucked away in darkness.

The sacred space for breath to flow,
For healing, transformation,
Reconciliation of the darkness,
Threading the stitches, rooting down into earth,
Unearthing false identities,
Stories we've told woven into the fabric of these images,
Of ourselves, of others.

The lies we've taken on as our own,
The falsity in beliefs we clutch so tightly,
Debilitating fear of loosening, letting go,
Of what we believe to be true,
The precariousness and fragility with each faltering step.

The heart, the spirit, stifled by aching pain, felt deeply in our bones
Taken on as our own, latched onto the stories of past,
Hurt, trauma, loss, grief.
As measures of our worth, inadequate and lacking,
In need to be filled, covered, fixed.
A brokenness, a void.

To feel deeply, expanding the space for dawning to break,
Opening up to the light and the dark,
Spaces within.
In this expansive silence,
We meet our Selves,
The seed we've forgotten, the inner light overshadowed.

In this presence, we see it all,
The inner trenches of shadow and light,
To hold steady for both to exist as is,
Without fleeing, freezing, fighting.
In this moment, we are whole, complete.

An inward reclamation of who we are,
Freeing the fires within to transform,
The beliefs, the veils covering the seed,
Of who we are.

A journey of fierce courage and persistence,
But one of softness and sweetness.
The two dancing in the flames and embers of transformation.
Letting love be their guide,
Compassion, heart-centered.

An unfolding choice each breath, each moment,
To shift, nurturing the seed within,
To step back into the light.
Inviting the light in others to shine forth.
In authentic wholeness.

Unearthing the entanglement.
Returning to the roots,
And rooting deeply into being, steady, held, loved,
At home in center, in Self.

You are seen, heard, beloved,
As you are, in this breath, in this moment,
A light in the darkness,
The reclaimed seed,
Whole and complete.
Rooting into the earth.
Grounded, held, loved.

Presence

Thoughts race through my head…the usual nonsensical banter, anxieties and fears. Intermittently, a clear, conscious thought bubbles up to the surface, free from the habitual, unconscious wirings of the mind. I begin this stream of words now from this very thought, attempting to elaborate on this conscious-inspired topic. Presence……the gift of being here NOW, in the presence of the Self, uninhibited by the ego's attachments and aversions.

Presence is the space you hold for your Self, dictated by your present state, thoughts, feelings and actions. Your presence has the potential to ripple out to those around you, but the choice of the energetic effect it has on others is entirely up to you. To show up is the greatest gift we can give to those around us, for our presence invites others to bring their own presence, real and authentic, rooted deep down in the Self.

So here I AM, playing with the supreme act of showing up, fully, authentically, for no other moment than the one before me, the moment to contrive a stream of words together. But, to say I exhibit this presence in question is a huge stretch. I spend the majority of my time trapped in the constant fluctuations of the mind, sucked into the grip of the illusory fears. Anxiety is where I spend the greater part of my existence, a sometimes debilitating feeling that holds my breath at bay, sometimes out of my own awareness. But, the fear in question is contrived from a distorted perception of time, the mind merely projecting past events into the unknown future, as it creates a story, a drama it's convinced will pan out. So, more and more energy is sent out to build upon this illusory and contrived story….the "I'm not good enough" story. And, the more time we spend delving our energy into this story, the more "real" it becomes.

It's if and when we slow down enough to bring these unconscious beliefs and thoughts to conscious awareness, then and only then can we begin to break down the story, ultimately discovering the root is nothing but a lie, a lie someone told us long ago that we took on as truth, our truth. For me, it's been the same old story of "I'm not good enough." As I've delved deeper and deeper into this underworld, the falsity of this belief slowly becomes more and more apparent. My mind begins to see this, understand it, analyze it, pick it apart. Yet, my heart still feels the pain, the unworthiness, the rejection.

So, continues the disconnect between mind and heart, the mind knowing what the heart has yet to fully feel. I continue to act upon this belief, fixating my energy and attention on my body, attempting to control it, shape it, hold it perfectly steady in the form, obsessively dreading the impending chaos that will ensue if and when my body falters in my mind's perfect lens. What a constricting world to live in, one bent on perfection, rigidness and control. But, this is where my energy has gone for so long, the outlet for which I direct the anxiety and fear. It's an avoidance technique I've "mastered," the ability to avoid or numb out unwanted emotion by redirecting my focus on something tangible, concrete, malleable.

So I continue running, faster and faster, away from my Self, away from the thoughts, the fears, the feelings. Round and round I go, off into the next "fix," the food, the exercise, the fixation on a desired romantic partner, the very act of these things signifying the faulty belief in these temporary things giving me long-lasting pleasure. But, as I've began "unlearning" in my yoga teacher training program…pleasure is not true pleasure when it comes from the fluctuations of the mind. We think pleasure comes from fulfilling a desire but if this particular desire is not fulfilled, our world crumbles. We hang on the precipice of this need being met, a need ultimately no one and no thing can fulfill.

Maybe we all feel this, but perhaps few can name this yearning, this longing to be whole. And, the ironic thing is, we are already whole and complete, right here, right now. It is purely the polarities of the mind, the wanting, the needing for one thing and not another that convince us otherwise. We want a particular body, a size, a shape….maybe a relationship, more money, a better job…but it's never enough. I've been my "desired" weight and size and sure, temporarily, I ride the high of this self confidence for a little while but ultimately the feeling leaves me wanting more, a constant striving for a better high, an endless race chasing after my next fix. All the meanwhile, etching into my heart and soul the reaffirmation of my worth being dictated upon my physical form.

My presence remains fixated on this physical form. And, the only time I'm truly able to root down into my Self, my real, authentic being, is when I'm breathing, consciously. Most often, this happens when I practice asana (yoga), but it is a tricky thing indeed when this practice has the potential to be yet another method to "perfecting" the physical form. Yet, the breath remains my anchor, though I don't always consciously breath. Even now, I recognize the shallowness of my breath, going only so far as to the base of my throat, the type of breathing I exist in daily, characteristic of the "fight or flight" mentality.

It takes conscious effort and awareness to draw my breath deeper, into my belly. And, as simple as it sounds, this breath grounds me, roots me down into my Self, and back into my presence. It is through the breath that I am able to bridge the gap between mind and body, finding my way back to consciousness, into the heart space. When I exist from this space, my presence takes shape. I become the observer, the witness in the drama of my own life. But, to take this seat is to do so with unattached, nonjudgemental awareness, compassion and spaciousness...no easy task for most of us.

With this awareness, there's a choice….to numb back out into the drug of choice or to continue to bridge this connection with the Self through the breath, choosing to be seen, real and authentic, in all its vulnerability. Rooting down into this Presence, we grow and flourish, inviting others to do the same, to take the seat of the Self, to move beyond the veils we hide behind, to reconnect to our roots in steadfast, loving devotion. So let this be our chosen state of Presence, time and time again, the conscious choice to return to our natural state, to Be Here NOW, in all its presence, wholeness and pulsating connection to all beings. And, let it be so.

Conscious Connection

The present moment seems ever elusive at times. Here I am, a blank screen away from a completed blog post, and I find myself drifting away into the stream of consciousness that is the mind. The phone goes off and it's another email, another "to-do." The accompanying anxious feeling threatens to transport me into the unknown, yet obsessively "controlled" time that is the future. This is the curse: the fear of letting go and immersing oneself into the moment, in all its complexity and fullness.

The breath returns, deeper this time, as I consciously focus my attention on the deepening inhale with the releasing exhale. Meditation in motion, I like to call it. These days, I can't seem to coax myself onto the cushion, into the seat of the witness. The yearning is there, for the connection, back to my Self. But, the mind convinces me otherwise, that there is not enough time, that other things demand more of my attention. So, I sit here now, not on my cushion but in a chair, in front of this daunting blank screen attempting to formulate some coherent theme to summarize the arising thoughts.

Showing up, present and conscious, is the subject in question. These past couple of weeks, I've found myself shifting if ever so slightly toward this conscious awareness in every day interactions and existence. Though my outwardly actions may not have changed- namely the exercise addiction and food and body obsession, I have noticed an increased awareness of when I am engaging in these thought patterns and behaviors. But, my tendency to berate and self-criticize my deemed shortcomings ultimately arises, taking the space where self-compassion could be.

I'm coming to the realization that the eating disorder, anxiety and depression are all seeking the same thing. They may transpire in various forms but I think it all boils down to something much deeper, rooted in the essence of who I am: a soul longing to grow, love and connect. The thoughts revolving around the eating, the anxiety or the loneliness simply cover up this deeper desire.

The habitual thoughts keep me stuck in the illusion that these things that I'm "working toward" will fix the underlying condition. That a perfectly fit body, a calm mind, a romantic partner will lessen the aching I feel inside. So, round and round I go, falling back into the thought and behavioral patterns, cycling again and again. This is my suffering. I am striving for something outside of myself, and winding up empty handed.

And, all this does, is simply reinforce the belief that something is wrong with where I am at at this given point in time. That something is missing or disjointed. That I am missing some key ingredient that everyone else has. But, the truth is what I'm looking for is a connection to my Self. And, I truly believe that's what most of us are seeking. Starting this 6-month-long yoga teacher training a couple of weeks ago has made this, among many other things, very clear.

For three solid days, I was immersed into yoga, the embodiment of conscious presence with extraordinarily vulnerable, authentic and real yogis. My satsang, my spiritual community, a source of connection, and the space to shine a light on our true Selves. Tears were shed, hearts were cracked open and there was no turning back. For the next six months, this is my yoga, my opportunity to Show up, fully and completely, vulnerable and naked.

For so long, I've felt this yearning, this aching in my heart for connection, authentic and real. This aching deep within my being longs for love. It desires so much more than I have been feeding it. My heart aches to be held, nurtured, comforted. It's easy in these moments of loneliness and longing to look outward to temporarily soothe the aching within. But, this is not sustainable and the feeling remains, urging me to hear its call and recognize the root of its desire.

If only I become conscious of it, dropping time and time again back into the space to allow its voice to be heard. Then, and only then will I find my Self, the conscious connection back to my heart, into the spaces where healing can manifest, into the presence of all that is is perfect, here and now. This is my Truth, waiting to be found, as I shed the layers to find the light. This is my yoga, uniting body and mind, heart and spirit, past and present...conscious connection illuminating the path before me.

Forever is an Eternity

Forever….the hiatus between a beginning and an ending, an intermittent pause between life phases and seasons, the blinking of an eye. For four months, I've been on a hiatus of sorts, taking a momentary break from my Self. And, in many ways this return to my voice, the vulnerable connection to my spirit and to the outside world, felt like an eternity.

The overwhelmingly blank page on the screen threatens to prolong the procrastination of words. But, here I sit, coming back to these same words, grateful for their stumbling appearance onto the screen.

The initially awkward stream of words transforms into something more fluid, natural, effortless. Turning off my left-brained, logical, rigid thinking, my right side takes over, giving life force to my creativity, my heart, my vulnerability. The dance between the two...my left attempting to make sense of this gibberish appearing onto the screen.

All too often this left-brained, masculine-feeding energy: the going, doing, accomplishing, action-motivated side dominates. The right-brained, more feminine-feeding energy: the compassionate, creative, loving, gentle flow hardly gets its say. Yet, writing for me allows this feminine flow to temporarily envelope me and coax me into this gentle, systematic flow of words and catharsis.

My writing is my soul and my heart, the cord connecting my body, mind and spirit. But, in failed attempts to avoid my Self as of late, I've continued and perpetuated my self-absorption into the ego ramblings, wrapped up in fear, negativity and self-criticism. These past four months have been marked by a momentary retreat back into the arms of the eating disorder. The bastard, the life-draining demon that haunts my footsteps, the monster lurking in the shadows.

He's the drill sergeant, the masculine hardness and rigidity demanding diet perfection and impeccable physique. You've seen him on T.V., in magazines, billboards…screaming at you, mocking you. "You'll never be good enough, thin enough, pretty enough to be worthy." Try all you will but you will never succeed, he says.

Chances are I'm not the only one who hears these condemning voices. They tell me that my worth is directly proportional to its harsh self-evaluation of my physical form, a judgment that fluctuates daily, based on diet and exercise "perfection" for that day. And, this harsh critic sees colors in only black and white. You're fat or you're skinny, you're a failure or a success. You're perfect or you're flawed.

He tells me when and how much to exercise, how much to eat and when to feel just plain shitty about myself. He's the voice that's told me over and over I'm not worthy, not good enough. He's the voice that controls the majority of my thinking and behavior. For most of my life, I have given up my control to an egotistical, slave- driving authoritarian. And, he has nearly dissolved me of my innate, feminine energy.

But, now my life is heading in the direction I've always desired and longed for, back into balance between the masculine and feminine. That's if I make the choice, the choice to leave behind all the garbage, the dis-serving habits and thought patterns, the toxic relationship with this inner masculine figure. The choice to take responsibility for my life, to take back what's mine: my mind and the thoughts I choose. The choice to make the shift from this stifling fear back into love.

The choice is on me, to close the gap between now and forever. To recognize the fear of regret in letting my life continue on this path of self-rejection, until at last it's too late to make that shift. I know it needs to happen, but it's a matter of doing it, making those conscious thoughts to realign with self-love and acceptance. The habit of my thinking has formed deep grooves, grooves for the eating disorder, the anxiety, the depression, the self-loathing. This is my shadow, my inner demons who have nearly exhausted me.

I see glimmers of light every now and again, clearer thoughts that fill my body and spirit with love, the love I know is there, waiting to be tapped into its full potential. And, I sense that the opportune time is now. In a little over a month, I will begin a journey back into my Self, through a yoga teacher training program. A six-month-long program, I will delve into the teachings and embodiment of yoga.

And, it has quickly manifested into something with profound implications that I can't even grasp. But, again, it's going to be a matter of my choosing to go deep into that journey, into the muck and yuck, the negative voices and stories that I've told myself over and over, to reevaluate my life up until this point. Yoga is the tool that's opened parts of me, exposed my inherent ability to become still, to quiet the voices if only momentarily. To connect me back to my body, back to the moment. It's going to be an exquisitely beautiful journey of self-exploration and triumph if I so allow it to naturally flow, to ease into those healing spaces.

Working at my current place of employment, a school for kids with behavioral issues, I realize how necessary this type of therapy and release is, for not only myself but for these kids who act purely on impulse, in the heat of the moment. Having worked in this environment, I've come to realize certain behaviors of mine, mainly the eating disorder, is all based on impulse. In a lot of ways, I'm just like these kids.

Addictions of any sort are all about impulse, not thinking and acting purely out of emotional distress. Inevitably, reaching for your drug of choice. But, when you slow things down, allowing the conscious, frontal part of your brain to gain back control, you loosen the subconscious, animalistic power exerted over that impulse, that desire to reach for the bottle, the joint, the candy. And, slowly over time that neural pathway weakens until new habits, new ways of thinking form. Yoga, meditation, writing and prayer allow you to retrain the mind and redirect the focus.

It's a life-long journey back to the Self, the time between now and forever, the path that's laid out before me to take back my freedom from the fear-driven subconscious thoughts and behaviors. The choice is mine, from now until eternity.