It is a blessing and a curse to be introspective, aware of one's state of being in a consistently persistent, exasperating manner. Or, rather an intermittent moment of awareness to one's perpetual and habitual tendency to be anywhere but here, anywhere but the present moment. I call it the "Anywhere-But-Here Syndrome," a phrase my ego would like to call its own, but as it turns out, I'm not the only one with self-evacuation protocols in place. And, I'm evidently not alone in falling victim to the incessant chattering and chaotic whirlings of the mind. Yes, I had to google the coined "syndrome" just to prove to my (sometimes) proud ego that I'm not the only one mulling over such prevalent dis-ease on both an individual and societal level.
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.
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.
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.
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,
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.
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.
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.
