Deserving It August 11, 2009

From the Rotund: “Fuck deserving it. …there are millions of people in the world who are BETTER than me. The difference is that, honestly, what I DESERVE isn’t going to determine what I go after in this world. Not when it comes to happiness or work or clothes that look awesome.”

What do I deserve? I don’t feel like I deserve anything good or complimentary or expensive. I don’t feel I deserve to be called smart or pretty or even tell people that I’m a yoga teacher. I certainly don’t feel like I deserve to put together a yoga/volunteering program in one of seven countries of my choice, let alone be the yoga teacher for that program (and so I secretly expect it to fall through) or to get published whenever I freaking finish this book (and so I not so secretly avoid working on it). Any compliment I get I assume the person either pities me or is crazy. Any opportunity I get I think “surely they’ve made a mistake, they can’t want me,” because I haven’t worked hard enough or long enough or whatever ‘enough’ I can think of.

This is no way to live.

How is it that I can accept every rejection as well formed and reasonable, but I can’t accept any praise at all?  But reversing that doesn’t seem logical either. How can I  accept only the praise but reject the rejections?  I’m back to the prayer of Byron Katie’s again: “God, spare me from the desire for love, approval, or appreciation. Amen.”  How do I do that? I have no idea.

change space September 29, 2008

How many books talk about change being hard, the most difficult thing to do. People have habits, ruts, patterns they can’t seem to escape, half of which we don’t even realize we have. Yogis and Buddhists tell us about samskaras, those actions we do over and over again. Scientists who study the brain tell us about neurological patterns that develop and link our thoughts to actions, creating actual grooves in the brain that get deeper and deeper the longer we stay in these patterns. This makes real change almost impossible, right?

What if change isn’t hard?

People talk about changing all the time, for years, for decades. But the actual change I think happens in a second, almost instantaneously. Suddenly, I think one thing and respond in a certain way, and then the next second I respond in some other way. It’s not a process; it’s the opposite of process. It’s not a series of steps or actions. It’s just one step, one action, from doing something to not doing it.

My yoga teacher talks about the madhya (not sure how it’s spelled) in pranayama, that point in breathing when you change from inhaling to exhaling. I think Deepak Chopra calls it a “gap”.  It’s a still point, a space.  This change space that’s neither inhaling nor exhaling, but one changing into the other. I’ve said before, I feel like I’ve changed so much in the last couple of years (and I have), but the externals look the same.  Am I in the change space? How long can I stay in the change space before I lose my breath? How long can I wait to exhale?

trust January 27, 2008

My throat has been bothering me for almost a week. I hate having a sore throat. I used to lose my voice all the time years ago before I realized I had allergies and started taking the appropriate medications. Still my allergies can go too far even with drugs, and I get post-nasal drip irritating my throat, and occasionally, still I lose my voice.

I started thinking in terms of SHBs and what they would say. Authors like Caroline Myss and Louise Hay come to mind immediately, any book on chakras, and really any mind-body-spirit SHB that links sickness to something specific, something you need to let go of, or a wound you need to stop scratching.  What does it mean when I lose my voice? How does the literal loss highlight the figurative loss? What is it I’m not saying?  What do I want to say but feel unable to speak?

When I think about this I keep coming back to trust. Trusting myself. On some fundamental level I do not trust myself. I don’t trust my instincts, my opinions, my abilities, my work, my very own voice.

At work I’ve been doing these online seminars; I facilitate discussions between presenters and participants and I control the whole thing. I’ve done most of these alone, but I’ve had someone sitting in with me for the last few and I’ve noticed that I ask her opinion about what I should say or ask all the time. I also realized that when other people have sat in with me I do the same thing, constantly asking for feedback. It must seem that I can barely manage alone. But it’s just the opposite: I manage brilliantly alone. When I’m all alone I have little doubt what to say, what questions to ask. I just do it, follow my instincts. It works.

My distrust in myself, in my own voice, seems to be present when someone else is around. When someone else is present, I trust, value, his or her opinion before my own. Why do I do that? Well… low self-esteem, the mighty catch-all? Trust issues? Clearly. Honestly, I don’t know what’s at the root of it, but now I know it’s there, now I’m aware of it. In her book Why People Don’t Heal and How They Can, Caroline Myss says “The greatest illusion of the New Age is that awareness alone heals… Relying on intellectual awareness alone to heal your body is wishful thinking.”  Will I speak and heal my voice? Or will I continue to act the same way, with my voice stuck in my throat clawing at me to get out.

Beach reading October 21, 2007

I just got back from the beach. I took a couple of days off to re-coup and read and write. I went to the beach with a friend where I did very little reading and even less writing. I did spend lots of time by the pool and jumping waves in the ocean (including hand stand attempts which resulted in a little microdermabrasion on one side of my face).

One of the things I realized while there is: Women hate themselves. The little reading I did included He’s Just Not That Into You, a modern classic, which my friend had borrowed and given back. I hadn’t read it in years and was stunned, again, by what women will accept.  Where’s the self love? Where’s the confidence so a woman doesn’t have to just grasp to a faint scent of commitment wafting near a man, not even on him.

It made me so sad. But what have I learned since I first read it? Probably nothing really new. It’s not about learning I don’t think. It’s about feeling. How you feel about yourself and the life you live. If I have a life I really love, then I won’t be trying to catch some man who makes me doubt myself by not getting caught.

Loneliness is the alternative though until Mr. Right comes along. Is loneliness such a bad thing? If a woman really loves her life, is she lonely just because she doesn’t have a man?  Is the the fear of being alone really as scary as some of the relationships you’ve had?

Brick walls September 26, 2007

“Brick walls are there for a reason. The brick walls aren’t there to keep us out. The brick walls are there to show us how badly we want things.”

This is a quote from the dying professor Randy Pausch who gave his last lecture on “How to Live Your Childhood Dreams.” This quote has bothered me since I first read it last week. It bothers me because I can’t think of a single childhood dream. At least not one that I’ve ever pursued in any real way. The only thing I can think of is I wanted to be a doctor. I am not a doctor. And honestly I don’t regret not being a doctor.

But where’s the passion? Where’s the true desire to attain a dream, even through years of rejection? How do you find a passion? There are so many directions I could go in. But you can’t be passionate about everything. Right?

Passion requires focus, putting your attention on one thing. That one thing could be huge (world peace, ending aparteid), but it’s still one thing. How do I know which thing is the right thing?

Self Love: what is it good for? August 10, 2007

Self love (self acceptance, self worth, self esteem) is good for everything. Everything. You know the drill: if you can’t love yourself, you can’t love anyone else or expect anyone to love you? If you spend all your time hating yourself, beating yourself up, you can’t possibly be thinking positive thoughts about anything else or doing anything positive.

I know some have trouble with this one. I have trouble with this one. How can I love myself when there are so many things about me that really need fixing? Seriously, am I just supposed to ignore the extra 100 pounds, the smoking, the delight in gossip, the lack of relationships, the list goes on. The hair, the nose, the teeth, the feet. The list goes on.

I think the idea of self love doesn’t as you to deny these things, it asks you to accept yourself as is, because as long as you’re dealing with something that is not (that does not exist), you can’t possibly be dealing with the issue at hand; you’re dealing with something non-existant. And what does that get you?

Does that make sense? What are your thoughts on Self Love?