Untitled 10/1/2020
So much loss and pain have been permeating my world on a personal level in the last week. Friends of friends and childhood friends, lost in a moment. The loss of someone’s child, a lover, a best friend, a brother. Throughout my life I have noticed that these losses seem to come in waves, each tragedy amplified by the previous. In these moments, I find myself losing my softness and ease, and everything seems harder. It is now, when I must dig in and do the work.
Self study and inquiry is always challenging, but choosing to do it in the middle of the breakdown, when the tears are streaming and the snot won’t stop, that’s when breakthroughs happen.
In the face of pain I often retreat to a reflective rage in response to pretty much everything. Coated in sarcasm and sharp jabs, at first, my anger soon starts to coat everything I hold valuable, mainly my relationships. And when the pain dissipates and all I can hear are the echos of my harsh tones, I am back in a familiar place of self loathing. I am faced with two choices, stay in the shit or understand that unless there is discomfort, there can be no growth. In the past I have blamed my ruthlessness as a matter of unawareness, and in part that was true. However, it is the fear of all the feelings I am already feeling that motivate the choices that I’m not proud of.
As my dear friend and teacher says, “Feelings are hard.” And they are often inconvenient to my day to day life. How am I supposed to teach my child at home doing virtual school when I can’t stop crying? My whole life my feelings have felt bigger than me. It has been the fear of my feelings that has motivated my to retreat into myself in the middle of someone else’s pain. A story I have created for myself is that I don’t handle death well. The truth is, who does? It was an excuse to not be there and present for the people in my life when they needed me most. After being on my mat for several hundred hours, I discovered that my feelings weren’t actually attached to my being, but I had clung on to them so hard, I’m learning how to let them go.Feelings of grief and shame that seem to still be lingering below the surface and are ready to come up for air the moment I let myself slip into forgetting who I am, NOW.
AND then…this word starts echoing in my head, this word that I have been latching on to since I saw it painted on the One Love Wall at Warrior One (my home studio) my first weekend at yoga teacher training…
SANTOSHA is a sanskrit word, derived from sam- meaning completely, and Tosha “contentment” or “acceptance.”
I have been applying this concept into my life since that moment. Accepting that I am exactly where I am and to get somewhere else it will take hard work. Also, learning that santosha in my life means allowing the feelings to come and go with complete acceptance. My rage is unseeded through different triggers, it is in those moments that I must choose to practice santosha. Each time I choose breath and contentment over reaction, I strengthen that connection to the still peace at my center. These revelations aren’t new I suppose, but for me, today, it dug deeper into my soul; the knowing that giving into my rage is giving into the illusion of control.
In the face of an unexpected loss, when all my old habits want to come out to play to help me cope, I will practice being in this moment, exactly as it is, loving fiercely, and holding those who need my compassion. I will not let the selfishness of my ego rob the people I love from what they need in these dark times.
To my humans going through it:
I see you, I hear you and I wrap my love and virtual arms around you.
Together we will hold each other up. Together we will be the light.
