If you want to go East just don't go West.

There is no greater friend in the world than our will

 and there is no greater enemy in the world than our will. 

For the past week or so I've been reading a book by Eknath Easwaran called Essence of the Upanishads, A key to Indian Spirituality.  Have I mentioned how much I love Easwaran's work?
The simplicity with which he delivers the ancient yoga teachings is what makes his work so powerful.

Often times, as I stand at a crossroad of my life I experience fear, self-doubt, confusion.  Life becomes overwhelming.  During those times, even the simplest tasks feel monumental.  The Upanishads have been my road map when I'm lost.

Our greatest weapon against stress is our ability

 to choose one thought over another.

One of the simple, yet profound quotes from Easwaran's book is "If you want to go East just don't go West."  It really is that simple.  My teacher, Shiva Das, used to tell me "Just do the next right thing in each moment."   It really is that simple.   We give attention to those things in our life that we want to grow.  I want more mental clarity and peace of mind.  How I achieve those states of being is to make them a priority.   Will drinking alcohol or eating Doritos bring me closer to my goal of mental clarity and peace of mind? or take me further away?  It's that simple. 

When our will is our friend, the choices are easy.  When our will is our enemy making healthy choices is a much more difficult task.  The key to achieving the life we want lies in the strength of our will.  That's the good news.   According to Easwaran, the will can be strengthened by exercising it.  

As I continue to practice making friends with my will I have found some useful tips. 

* Keep it simple

Remember, if you want to go East just don't go West.  Are my actions and thoughts taking me closer to my goal or further away? 

* Hold space

Allowing a bit of space between the experience/challenge and the response/reaction helps me make conscious choices instead of reacting from impulse.   When a building collapses we need to wait for the dust to clear before we can assess the damage and before we can rebuild we need to clear the debris.  The same holds true for any trauma.  First, let the dust settle, assess where the work needs to be done.  Clear the debris before you rebuild.  Constructing a new building over the ruins of the old one will not provide the stability needed to withstand the next storm. 

*Be honest with yourself 

Avoiding the truth will always come back and bite you in the ass.  Hiding, numbing, avoiding only prolongs your suffering. "You have to feel it to heal it".   Don't hang pretty wallpaper to cover up the crumbing wall.  Easwaran explains it like embroidering the seat belts in the car but not taking care of the engine. 

*That which you give your attention to grows stronger in your life

Nothing grows unless you give it your attention.  No matter how much I love this beautiful Gardenia plant if I put it in the corner and ignore it there's no doubt that it will die.   The more I give my attention to finding beauty the more beauty I see.  The more attention I give to seeing God's Grace the more I feel supported.  The more attention I give to those people and things that bring me joy the more joy I experience.  

*Take action

We can pretend to be a victim of our circumstances or we can take our power back.  I imagine it like a sailboat.  We can set out on our little sailboat and allow the winds to push and pull us here and there and we can sit back and play victim when we don't reach our destination  or we can lift the sails and adjust them as needed.  That way the winds of our life will be the energy we need to direct our little boat towards our destination.  There will always be storms. Whether we use them as fuel for our spiritual evolution or we allow them to get us stuck in the mud is up to us.  The choice is ours. 

It's really that simple. Ultimately, every time we engage our will and make the choice that takes us towards our goal, no matter how small the step is, we are strengthening our will.   When our will is our friend we will surely reach our goal. 

Om Namah Shivaya! 

Make me an instrument...

Prayer of St. Francis

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace, 

Where there is hatred, let me sow love;

where there is injury, pardon;

where there is doubt, faith;

where there is despair, hope;

where there is darkness, light;

where there is sadness, joy;

O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; 

to be understood as to understand; 

to be loved as to love.

For it is in giving that we receive; 

it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; 

and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

I've been saying this prayer since I was a child.  Today, I felt like I was living this prayer... Or rather, the prayer was living me.  I have the great privilege of taking part in a sacred circle sharing teachings that I feel so passionately about with a group of amazing women.  

As I take my seat in the sacred circle  I acknowledge and bow to all the teachers who have shared the profound teachings of yoga with me. I ask for their blessing and pray that I may become an instrument for God's Grace.  

As I take my seat in the sacred circle I recognize myself in the faces of each and every other woman in that circle.  Each one bringing to the circle their own struggles and their own profound wisdom.  Each of us showing up with open hearts and open minds. 

It is in giving that we receive.... I was presented with an opportunity to practice this.  I am grateful that I had the clarity of mind to recognize this opportunity.  The opportunity also helped me to understand that perhaps the reason I experienced the recent "trauma" was to prepare me for the opportunity to give what I, myself,  needed to receive.  So often I struggle with the perception that all these bad things are happening TO me.  Today I had the realization that these "struggles" are actually happening FOR me.  

Today, I felt the Grace of God flowing through me as I shared the sacred teachings of the Upanishads with this group of amazing women.  As the teachings flowed through me each word was meant for me.  It was in giving that I received.  Each word that passed through my heart felt like the hand of God healing my shattered heart. One piece at a time.  Where there was despair...hope,  Where there was darkness...light,  Where there is injury...Pardon.  Where there was sadness...joy. 

In the words of my mother... "God loves me... He really loves me."  

Sometimes, I feel like I need to pinch myself.  How luck am I that I get to share the teachings that I feel so passionately about in sacred circles with some truly remarkable people.  And How lucky am I to have a friend who made that possible? I am eternally grateful to her for having more confidence in me than I had in myself. 

How lucky am I that in the process of sharing God's message I receive the message I've been seeking?  

It's no fun living in a "fun-house"

Do you remember going to the carnival when you were a kid?  Do you remember the fun-house? The floors would move under your feet, you would look into a mirror and your reflection would be all distorted.  Nothing was ever as it seemed.  I never understood why people would think those things were fun.  

Lately, I've had these recurring thoughts that go something like this "What the fuck happened? How did I get here?  What is going on?"  Nothing is ever what it seems.  The ground beneath me keeps shifting and moving.  Everything seems distorted.  I can't figure out which end is up.  I desperately search for the exit out of this "fun-house" but behind every corner there is another challenge or obstacle.  Every time I think I have found the way I hit another wall.  This is not at all what I imagined my life would look like. 

It's so hard to see God's plan for us. It's so hard to understand why God's plan includes such suffering. It's so hard to trust when you don't know what's real from what's illusion.  Some people seem to thrive in illusion/delusion.  I envy those people.  There's no doubt that our past experiences color how we see things.  The past sometimes causes us to have a distorted view of current experiences.  But how do we know for sure if it's delusion or intuition?  

Over the past few years I started following my intuition even when my brain was telling me that it was crazy.  I would say things to people when I felt a strong impulse to say something even when my brain was telling me it was crazy.  I took action based solely on my intuition even when everyone thought I was crazy.  There have been times when I felt so connected and so clear that I stopped doubting and questioning my intuition. 

Then everything changed.  Hence the thought "What the fuck happened?"  How did I end up in the fun-house?  Why is everything distorted?   Things aren't suppose to be like this.  This is not what my life was suppose to look like.  Naturally my mind immediately goes to "what did I do wrong?" I'm catching myself thinking "I try to be a good person so why me?"  This thought, of course, brings up the feeling that since I'm experiencing emotional suffering I must not have been good enough otherwise I wouldn't be suffering.  Now, I've done enough inner work to know that these thoughts are counterproductive.  

The flow of God's grace is always there like the sun hidden behind the clouds.   My mind may be cloudy and confused but I have faith that God's grace is still there. I don't understand the reasons why these challenges and obstacles have been thrown at me.   I don't understand the reasons for the pain and suffering.  One thing I do know for sure is that it's not a punishment for not being good enough. 

The other thing I do know for sure is that when the world around me seems distorted and scary, when the ground beneath keeps shifting, when I can't tell what's real from what's delusion I need to pray.  The challenges and obstacles are God's way of calling us back to our center.  We have strayed and God needs to get our attention.  The only way out is in.  Meditation and complete surrender to God is the way back to our center.  I'll meet you there.... 

Love anyway.

When does the practice of Svadhyaya, self-inquiry, become obsession and self-destructive?  It's interesting to me that even the spiritual practices can become a hindrance.  These practices we engage as a means to bring us closer to the Divine can become tools for the ego to take us further away from God.  

I came across the picture above on the 100 days of Beauty facebook page. The page was started as a way to share my sadhana to Venus with others and to hold myself accountable.I had committed to looking for beauty everyday for 100 days. With the help of my friends, the posts on the page have inspired me and filled my life with so much beauty.  When I struggle to see beauty in the chaos of my own life it helps me to see the beauty others have found.  

This picture, struck a nerve though.  I have been contemplating love a great deal lately.  I've used this idea of self-inquiry to examine my relationship with love.  But self-inquiry has turned into self-destruction.  I have been picking myself apart for not being able to love good enough and not being lovable enough. It's the same song and dance. I'm not enough.  If only I had not said this.  If only I had done that. If only I was more like this or less like that then I'd be lovable.  

This self-destruction disguised as self-inquiry has even gone so far as to point out how stupid I am for loving people when they don't love me back.  How stupid can I be to continue to feel love for someone who clearly doesn't feel the same about me?  

Then today, I came across this picture.  I'm reading a book by St. Teresa of Avila so when I was scrolling through the posts this one jumped out at me.   Love cannot be bought.  It can't be stolen, it cannot be cajoled, it cannot be seduced.  Only genuine love begets love. 

How do we know if it's genuine love we are feeling or we're trying to seduce or cajole?  How do we know if it's genuine love or co-dependency? If my love doesn't beget love does that mean its not genuine?

If I love you six units and you don't return six units and I don't withdraw my six units does that make me stupid or does that mean it's genuine love?   How do we know if it's genuine love or simply an inability to let go?  I tend to get attached to people.  When they inevitably disappear from my life I suffer.  My head says that I should withdraw my "six units of love".  My heart doesn't agree. 

My teacher says, the heart is the gateway between our humanity and our Divinity.  Seems to me that it's also the gateway to mass confusion for some of us.  

How can we tell if it's genuine love we feel or unhealthy attachment? 

St. Teresa says that if we don't learn to love we will suffer.  My experience has been that even if we do love we may still suffer.  Or... Does the fact that it's causing suffering mean it's not genuine? 

Maybe I am stupid.  Maybe I am too attached to people.  Maybe it is unhealthy to be attached to people who don't, for whatever reason, offer the same six units of love back to me. 

I'll follow my heart instead of my ego and error on the side of love.  I will follow the example of the Saints and Sages and continue to offer my heart.  As long as my motivation for love is genuine and unconditional whether or not it's returned or received the way I intend is none of my business. 

Love begets love.... But even if it doesn't, love anyway. 

Being able to love even after your heart has been broken into a million pieces is a beautiful thing.  Having the tools to recognize that the same song and dance of the ego no longer serve me is a beautiful thing. 

We are made in the image of God.  How can we ever be "not good enough"?    

Deconstruction in progress

Letting go of delusion is painful.  It feels like my skin is being ripped off inch by inch.  The pain is searing and I fear that I won't survive.  The "me" I thought I was will most definitely not survive.  It would be impossible to survive the deconstruction that is happening.

I fear the pain, I fear what it will be like to move through life in such a raw and vulnerable state.  I fear how others will react.  I fear the validation of my beliefs.  I fear that there's no end to the delusion.  I wonder if the saying is true.  Is the evil you know better than the evil you don't know?

If my strength and self-sufficiency have been a delusion does that mean that my perceived flaws are also a delusion?  There is just as much possibility that what's beyond the delusion is liberating and wonderful as there is that it will be scary and horrible. Is it possible that feeling empty is a blessing?

I find myself resisting my practice. I'm resisting because it is the very thing that's causing the delusion to fall apart.  The delusion has been my means of protection.  Without it I'm exposed.  I'm standing naked in the middle of my life.  Vulnerability is scary.  Who will protect me?

Om Hreem Shreem Dum Durgaya Namaha     

Since I was nine years old I have played the role of mother and protector.  In reality I was just a child in need of mothering and protection.   The delusion of strength and self-sufficiency was necessary and served me well for many years.  Sadly, though, it has also become a hindrance.   I've worn the delusion for so long that I began to believe it was my own skin rather than a suite of amour that can be removed when the battle was over. 

I was reminded yesterday that the reason I feel vulnerable, alone, and without protection is because I have forgotten the presence  of God.  It is the hand of God that is systematically removing the delusion.  It is no longer needed.  The suit of amour is no longer necessary when I remember the presence of God.  

Yes, it is painful.  Like the pain of surgery when the doctor has to cut away disease so that the patient can heal and be whole again.  When God is the surgeon what is there to fear? 

Is it worth it?

Had I known the depths that my yoga practice would take me I doubt I would have had the courage to step foot on the mat.  Truth be told, I started taking yoga classes as a way of relieving stress.  I was in search of love and light and cotton candy.  I was bound and determined to be peaceful and happy even if it kills me.  Some days, it seems that my practice is doing just that... killing me.  In reality, it is killing "Me".

In yoga-land they use the analogy of peeling away the layers of an onion to describe the peeling away of the masks and stories that we have created around this idea of what or who "Me" is.   When I peel an onion it makes me cry.  The same is true with the peeling away of the layers of "Me". There are inevitably tears and pain involved when we start to peel away the masks.  We feel raw and vulnerable.  There's also fear.  Fear of what's underneath the  mask and stories of our lives?  How will people react to me without the mask?  Who am I under the stories and masks?

What keeps us peeling away, despite the pain and fear, is the promise of discovering who we really are at our core.   What is the essence of who we are without the stories, without the masks?  It's the promise of nirvana or bliss that keeps us returning to the painful practice of peeling away.  Some days I want to give up.  Some days it seems the onion has no many layers that I'll never reach the center.
Other days, I feel lighter for having discarded so many layers already and I feel inspired to keep going.

It seems to me that the beginning layers peel away rather easy.  It actually feels liberating and freeing to let go of the story that I needed to live up to the standards set by Betty Crocker or Martha Stewart or Leave it to Beaver's mom.   The beginning layers are more superficial.  As you let go you feel invigorated and it propels you onward.  Like peeling paint from the front porch.  At first, the pieces that weren't so attached come away easy and I think to myself  "How hard could it be?".

Once the superficial layers get cleared away you start to work on the layers that have been there a little longer.  These stories and masks are ones that we have been carrying for a lot longer and we're more attached to.  They get harder to shake loose.  We start to question whether or not it's worth the effort to remove them or maybe, like the front porch, we want to just paint over those layers and pray for the best.

This journey of self-discovery is not for the faint of heart.  The deeper our practice is  the deeper it takes us into the dark corners of our minds.  At some point, we reach those stories that we are sure are entwined into the very fibers of our being.  How will I ever peel those away?

While peeling away the paint on the porch, we got to a point where some of the wood was coming away with the paint.   That's what it feels like for me right now.  It feels like some of the very fibers of my being are being peeled away along with the story.  The pain feels more like grief.  Grief is a natural response to loss. Even if the loss is just a story of who we thought we were.  I didn't, however, expect grief to be a part of the practice that was suppose to bring me to love and light and cotton candy.

There is fear, and vulnerability in the rawness of letting go of these deep layers of the story of "Me". Who will I be when this layer is gone?  This story is, by far, the most painful to let go of.  Will I have the courage and strength to tackle the next one?  How much more pain and grief must I endure before I reach this elusive state of bliss?  Is it even worth the effort?  Today, I surrender to the feet of the Divine Mother who soothes all pain and grief.

Forfeiting the race

Why is there always a sense of urgency about things?  Why does it seem like time is running out? Always hurrying from one thing to the next.  Time spent on anything but busyness is wasteful.  "I wish I had more time!"  people are always saying.  I read a quote somewhere that said something like "Einstein and Michaelangelo had the same 24 hours you do."   Some nights I hit my pillow so completely exhausted yet having accomplished nothing in particular.

The sense of urgency and needing to keep up causes so much unnecessary suffering.   Life is moving so fast... Is it?  Is time moving faster than it used to?  Doesn't 24 hours still last  24 hours like they did 100 years ago?  Time isn't what's moving so fast, we are.   The question is, why? 

A yoga teacher once said that whatever neurosis you have off the mat you bring to the mat with you. The same sense of urgency and busyness and needing to accomplish and keep up with others is just as prevalent in yoga-land as it is in the rest of society.  The question is still, why? 

In society we strive to accumulate promotions, possessions,  money, bigger house, better car.  Our children are pushed to excel at everything. They must make honor roll, play 5 sports and master musical instruments.  We strive to make them "well rounded" by filling their days with structured activity.  In yoga-land, it's the race to "awaken".  We strive to accumulate training certificates, have the biggest "following",  master the most advanced postures, teach the most yoga classes, run retreats and workshops and on and on and on.  We want to be well rounded so we fill our time with everything yoga.  We must become master teachers even if it kills us! 

When I first started teaching yoga I was teaching upwards of 10 classes a week.  In addition I was enrolled in a 500 hr advanced yoga teacher training program.  I was also in a dysfunctional marriage, working full time and trying to raise 3 children.  Since that time I completed 2 advanced yoga teacher training programs and a 500 hr Ayurveda lifestyle consultant course.  People would always say to me "I don't know how you do it."  "I'm so impressed that you can manage to do so much".   From the outside I had it all together.... On the inside I was falling apart. I was running all the time... No one ever asked me what it was that I was running away from.  What was the hole that I was trying to fill? 

The last 2 years have been completely different.  I'm teaching much less, I'm not taking any training programs, my marriage ended and my children often times fend for themselves.  From the outside it looks like things are falling apart.... On the inside, things are coming together.  

At the end of my Ayurveda training I asked my teacher "What's next? There's still so much more to learn."  His reply?  "Time to stop asking what's next."  I took his advice.  I stopped running, stopped trying to fill the hole with more training and started living the teachings.   I took time to digest and assimilate all the beautiful, profound wisdom that has been shared with me by my teachers.  I move more slowly and deliberately through life.  Choosing how I spend my time and energy more carefully has made all the difference. 

I'm learning that life is not a race to the finish line.  It's a journey of discovery.  I never took the time to enjoy life when I was so busy trying to keep up with everyone else.  There are still moments when I feel a pang of jealousy when I hear about the training programs other teachers are taking or when someone has the means to quit their job or take a trip to India or whatever.  I'm not saying that it's not good to have goals and ambition in life.  I'm saying that I'm now questioning my motivation for what I do and considering the benefit verse the sacrifice. 

Years ago my oldest got in trouble.  I grounded her and sent her to her room without her phone. Several hours later she came downstairs to show me the beautiful tote bag she had sewn.   Seems to me that when we can practice being still and holding space we open ourselves up to inspiration and creativity.