On our walk yesterday morning, the frozen ponds were melting, singing and moaning, and I noticed around the edges that algae was starting to form, bright spring green spreading under the cloudy frozen surface of winter. The sky was bright blue, the sun blazing, and later in the afternoon, it turned gray and thick, and there was snow.
On this day of rest, I am still struggling to get used to my new progressive lenses (did I tell you I needed bifocals?), so the world seems blurry and is making me woozy and dizzy. I can’t figure out where to look, how to get things in focus. My right ear is plugged up, throwing off my balance that much more.
Amidst change, in what can seem like chaos and confusion, I still feel grounded. This morning while folding laundry, I was listening to Brene’ Brown’s The Power of Vulnerability. She clarified that being wholehearted (living and loving with your whole heart, “all in”) wasn’t a thing you had or arrived at, mastered or possessed, but rather it’s a practice, a series of moment by moment choices, what we invite into our lives and make space for, and what we let go of, release.
I’m hearing this message repeated in the Mondo Beyondo class I’m assisting, in the Cultivating Courage class I’m taking, in Rachel Cole’s Ease Hunting class, in other things I’m reading, other people I’m talking to, in the wisdom of my own heart–that with anything you want to achieve, do, be, you can approach it as a practice, a process that is ongoing.
As with any practice, one must suspend judgement, drop the agenda, show up with an open heart, allow whatever might arise, try not to get attached or hooked, stay relaxed, be soft and gentle, be present and mindful. It is so for me with creativity, with my various practices of writing, walking, yoga and meditation, with my life.
You move forward, in the direction of your dreams, on the path towards True North, you have an intention, a goal in mind, a map, but without expectation of arriving or being finished, and open to whatever shifts might happen in the weather or the terrain, allowing for days when you feel strong and full of energy, as well as days you feel tired and sad, accepting what is. You don’t take a breath thinking that once you do, you are now done, or once you do it “right” you’ll never have to do it again. You simply breath in and breath out, and keep doing so. So it is with practice, with life.
Enough. These few words are enough.
If not these words, this breath.
If not this breath, this sitting here.
This opening to the life
we have refused
again and again
until now.
Until now.
~David Whyte
Service is your heart’s desire made visible. Service is the act of sharing what you most care about for the greater good. It requires no special goodness, thankfully. After our basic needs are met, we all yearn to make a difference and service springs from listening to that yearning – and taking action on it, step by little step. ~Jennifer Louden, The Week of Inward Looking
My most intense longing, my deepest hunger, my heart’s desire is to ease suffering, in myself and in the world. As I have been retreating and reverbing and unravelling and reflecting and contemplating and practicing this past month (year?), it has become clear to me that the “basic need” I still must meet is the essential requirement of self-love and self-care. I need to learn and practice radical self-acceptance.
I was naive at the start of this “life-rehab.” From the moment I first realized I had been in a long term abusive relationship with myself, I believed it would be an easy fix, that with awareness and mindfulness would come immediate and lasting change. I thought I could read a book, take a class, attend a workshop, complete a practice or project, and “presto chango” I would be transformed into a woman completely in love with herself, confident and strong.
I was so wrong. You can’t take years of self-abuse, self-hatred, self-loathing, and all of the self-soothing and coping strategies you’ve developed to counter those behaviors, to numb and distract yourself from all the hurt, and fix it so easily, so quickly. It is hard work to repair the damage done, to restore your self to yourself. Almost every single old habit, way of being has to be undone and replaced. This is slow, heavy work, and while so much has changed for the better already, there is more to be done.
Kris Carr’s post The Myth of Finding Your Purpose is one thing that has helped me to see this more clearly. In it, she says “Your purpose has nothing to do with what you do…Your purpose is about discovering and nurturing who you truly are, to know and love yourself at the deepest level and to guide yourself back home when you lose your way.” She goes on to suggest a whole list of “what ifs” that precisely define what steps one might take to embody your purpose. She ends with saying:
Seriously, what if finding your purpose is about finding and nurturing yourself? Not an external to-do or accomplishment, even if that to-do or accomplishment is the most important discovery of all time. Because if you are the one destined to find the most important ah-ha of all time, you will probably find it quicker and easier if you feel good, loved and happy. Start there. It’s that simple.
This is directly in line with the wisdom of two of my primary practice traditions: yoga and meditation. Both used the term “warrior” to describe the practitioner, and in the lineage of Buddhist philosophy in which I practice, I train to be a Warrior, which is described as:
The Shambhala view of warriorship shares some of the qualities of earlier warrior traditions such as those from the Middle Ages that combined fearlessness with dignity and wisdom. The most important quality of the Shambhala warrior is being non-aggressive. The Shambhala warrior is defined by gentleness and fearlessness. As Chogyam Trungpa said it, “the first principle of warriorship is not being afraid of who you are.” ~William A. Gordon, Shambhala The Path of the Warrior
Don’t be afraid of who you are. To be a spiritual warrior, face each moment with openness and fearlessness, because “the ultimate definition of bravery is not being afraid of who you are.” Susan Piver, who also practices in this lineage, defines confidence this way, “the willingness to be as ridiculous, luminous, intelligent, and kind as you really are, without embarrassment.”
If service is the fruition, radical self-acceptance is the path. Tara Brach talks about this in Radical Acceptance: Embracing Your Life With the Heart of a Buddha, where she defines this practice, this awareness of radical self-acceptance as “the willingness to experience ourselves and our lives as it is.” She goes on to say that:
Perhaps the biggest tragedy of our lives is that freedom is possible, yet we can pass our years trapped in the same old patterns…We may want to love other people without holding back, to feel authentic, to breathe in the beauty around us, to dance and sing. Yet each day we listen to inner voices that keep our life small.
As one who practices radical self-acceptance, who is confident, a tenderhearted and brave warrior unafraid of herself or her life, showing up with an open heart, no matter how hard or how much it hurts, I can serve. I can embody generosity and love and confidence. I can manifest wisdom and compassion. I can satisfy my longing to ease suffering, in myself and in the world.
I’m still not sure exactly what shape that will take or what it will look like, how exactly it will manifest. Some of the possibilities are as a writer, a teacher, a therapist or coach, a yoga and/or meditation instructor, an artist, a mentor. Some topics I know something about are grief and loss, cancer, addiction, practice, writing, voice (both losing and finding it), mindfulness, and relationship with the self. I’m not exactly sure how those will come together into specific offerings, but I’m okay with not knowing. For now, I will continue to remember, as Jennifer Louden suggests, that “service springs from listening to that yearning – and taking action on it, step by little step.”
I started writing this post in the dark of early morning, as I worked stringing the words and thoughts together the sun rose, and I am finishing with the sun up and out, the sky wide open and clear blue–something about that seems really, really right.
Amidst change, in what can seem like chaos and confusion, I still feel grounded. This morning while folding laundry, I was listening to Brene’ Brown’s The Power of Vulnerability. She clarified that being wholehearted (living and loving with your whole heart, “all in”) wasn’t a thing you had or arrived at, mastered or possessed, but rather it’s a practice, a series of moment by moment choices, what we invite into our lives and make space for, and what we let go of, release.
Open Space Practice, (AKA: A Thousand Shades of Gray) 