Yesterday, I went to the 3rd of a series of 4
workshops my friend has been facilitating over the last few months. Yesterday
was Relationship with the Divine. I imagined I sorta had this one “down,” that
I could relatively expect what would come up – places where I trust, don’t
trust, know I’ll be taken care of, am scared I’ll be taken care of(!). But, a
bunch of things happened that I did not expect.
The first of which was in response to the question, What
would happen if we shift our current (and assumedly not completely accurate)
belief system? What would happen if I really allowed myself to step into full
faith in my path, my internal nudges toward art, into the fullest idea that
this is a world of abundance? What would happen then?
What occurred to me was that I would need to begin to take
responsibility for my dreams, for these nudges and instincts toward joy. And
that’s when it happened.
I’ve known that I have shirked responsibility for my needs
and my dreams for years, hiding them under “just stay within the lines.” I know
that it has become so painful to stay in the lines that I’ve quit jobs with no
safety net, moved across continents and countries, and previously fallen into
addiction and self-defeating behavior to cover up the distance between what I
was doing in my life and what I wanted to be doing. So, I’ve known that I’ve
not been responsible to myself.
What I didn’t know was that in sitting with what would it truly
look like to step into that responsibility would bring up the fiery reaction of
an inner child saying F.U., I’m exhausted from responsibility, responsibility
sucks.
Now, sure, many people feel this way, but many don’t. To me
what this question tapped into was that my previously held beliefs of
responsibility were of ones that were beyond my resources. Like I’ve said,
responsibilities that I had to take on when I was younger, like a lot of people
I know, were beyond what a child normally ought to take on. Responsibility came
with resentment and a feeling of exhaustion.
So, to sit now with the possibility of stepping in and
taking full reign of my dreams, nudges, creativity, “power” even, I come up
against this out-dated idea of what responsibility means, and of course I’ve
run away from stepping into ownership of them. If, to me, responsibility for
myself has equaled a burden, something beyond what I’m able to give, a
frightening amount of giving, then it is no f’ing wonder that I’ve avoided it.
The bright spot on all of this, is that now I see it, and
can dismantle these false ideas. It would be nice to assume responsibility for
myself in a way that felt nurturing, caring, and perhaps even refueling. My
needs are not exorbitant, they are doable, if I also am willing to tap into the HP (sorry to get G-dy for a minute)
and the abundant source of energy that is there.
I’m not a religious person, but I believe there are things
beyond me which are much more powerful than I am, and if I can tap into that
resource, I don’t get depleted. If
I act as a channel, instead of charging off my own battery, then I don’t get
depleted.
So, I’ve known that it’s been hard for me to color outside
the lines, to stick to the course that is within me. But i haven’t really known
why I’ve continued to avoid the path, besides the normal fears(!). We’ll see
how I am able to incorporate this new idea, how I’ll be able to shift the
belief system, but awareness is the first action.
Secondly in this workshop, lol, if you’re still reading!,
there was a meditation on impermanence. This was So crazy intense, I’ve never
had a meditation be so evocative – and I’ve had some whacked out powerful ones
that I still remember. The meditation was to ourselves as a very old person, on
the doorstep of death. We were to enter the space of this person, and make
ourselves known to her (in my case), and to ask what she had to tell us. The
whole time, nearly from the beginning of the meditation, I’m streaming tears.
Not from grief or sadness, sadness was there, but it was just more this
overwhelming sense of emotion.
The woman, me, all frail and skeletal nearly, had my eyes,
and they were still bright and kind and alive. There was the smell of cinnamon,
something baking elsewhere in the house. And as I held her hand, she told me to
“Love, as much as you can.” And to be with my family (which I am not entirely
sure what she meant, my current one, the one I’ll have, my family of my
friends, or all of these). She was content with her life, ready to go.
Then we were to imagine her passing away, and not to get
gross, but imagining her decomposing, to bone, to dust, and perhaps blowing
away, and then to sit and “sense or feel or imagine” (as my teacher likes to
say) what remains. What remained for me, as I continue to drip saltwater all
down my neck, was both the Love this woman had, had around her, in her, in her
life, and gave to me, and the edict to
Love. Which I interpret as two different things. The sense of love, and the
command to love.
What also remained was the sound of children’s laughter
somewhere else in the house, downstairs or down the hall. In my meditation of
impermanence, laughter and love remained. In my meditation where I literally
(sort of) watched myself die, what was left in the world wasn’t diminished.
You can imagine this was pretty intense ;)
But how encouraging. And I’ve been given something to do. To
love, as much as I can, and to hold my responsibilities for myself with love,
not rejection.
Big tasks, but apparently, I have a very long time in which
to accomplish them.
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