The last couple of days I have not had a nice thing to say about myself. Not out loud. At work, in the world, I’m normal, I’m even cheery, but in my head some hateful person has taken over my mind. I’ve noticed it and I’m aware of it, so it doesn’t go completely unchecked. But the hateful voice just keeps reminding me of all of my so-called flaws, reminding me of my general unhappiness and my lack of passion, my loneliness, my ability to miss every opportunity, my impulsiveness, buying a house that’s too much for me, and my god, my weight, my weight, my neverending weight.

The list is long, and tragic really. But what I can’t figure out is, why now? Is it because I was so proud of myself for getting the house. Huge accomplishment! Or is it just this time of year, a couple of months before my birthday. Every year another one comes around and every year, I’m stunned by how much my life hasn’t changed, how I’m still alone, how I’m still fat, how I’m still bored to death at work, how I’m still piling high reasons why I can’t even try to do things based mainly on the idea that I’m not good enough.

In my last post, I talked about the 3rd chakra and will and Anodea Judith herself responded! So exciting!  In her comment she said “Sounds like your Will energy turns you against you with negative self talk. Find out WHAT your will is, first, and be gentle and loving with yourself.”

What is my will? What do I want, really? I could say I want what everyone else wants: to be loved, to be happy.  But I’ve steadfastly avoided those. Just as I was making the decision to buy this house, I was reading old e-mails. I have no idea why. Maybe I was trying to survey my life here in Austin. In one from about 5 years ago was telling a friend about a date I had. The relationship went nowhere (obviously) but he was an extremely interesting, smart man, a writer studying psychology. On our second date, according to this e-mail, he just suddenly said “You don’t like anyone near you do you? whether emotionally or in physical proximity?”  I’d forgotten about that. I’d forgotten about him honestly, but when I read it again I knew it was true. Is that what it is? When I’m out and about in the world, do I project a vibe that says “Don’t love me. Don’t even try.”  When I’m safe and alone in my house “I’m so tired of being alone” as Al Green says.  Does being safe mean being alone to me? That’s a new, sad thing to say.

It’s frustrating. I’m about to turn 44 and I still don’t know what I want. Or do I know? And there’s just another part of me that forces me to give it up. I want to do everything, but I can’t do everything. I want to live everywhere, but I can’t live everywhere. I want to practice so many things, but there’s only time for one. Choose. That’s the constant rhythm of my life: wanting, but feeling incapable of getting. But isn’t that the rhythm of everybody’s life. Isn’t that what suffering is? Isn’t the cause of suffering wanting?

But Anodea (hope I can call her by her first name!) didn’t say find out what your will wants. She wrote “find out WHAT your will is.” I’m not sure I know the difference right now.

“When the mind is backed by will, miracles happen.”

If you read my last post (and you probably didn’t), you know I was just going on and on about “putting my mind to something”.  I always think of my inability to finish something, see it through to the very end as a lack of focus.

But after opening up my tea and reading this, I was immediately reminded that it’s not my lack of focus, it’s my lack of will.

I’ve known for a while now that I have a will problem. When I read Anodea Judith’s Eastern Body, Western Mind – the best book on chakras I’ve ever read, and I’ve read a lot – I was stunned to see the description of the 3rd chakra deficient person. “Unable to trust our own basic impulses and needing to constantly monitor what comes from within, the personality becomes divided against itself. It takes energy to maintain this division, a loss that robs us of our basic vitality and wholeness.”

That, sadly, is a perfect description of me. It’s exhausting to constantly tamp down my passion. I extinguish my own fire. I have ideas, but never even dip a toe in doing them, feeling depleted, and exhausted with the effort of not doing. That’s not a lack of focus. That’s a lack of will. And it’s crazy! It’s like turning off the furnace for your house, but then wondering why it doesn’t function normally.

After reading EBWM the first time, I thought I would be aware of my will issue. But I slip into blaming time and focus and even society (who wants a fat yoga teacher?) for not getting things done, for not going after what I want, pursuing my ideas. I didn’t see buying this house as a question of will as much as a single minded focus. And while I was single mindedly focused, it was also just shear force of will.

Will is real, it’s powerful. The will, the 3rd chakra is the fire inside, the passion that inspires you to get up at 5:30 in the morning and write. The passion I had to move to Austin and to buy this house. And I need to tap into it. and maybe I already have. The color of the 3rd chakra is yellow. I bought a bright yellow house.

How did I get here?

There are days at work when I can’t stop asking myself that question. How did I get here? And then I think “I didn’t know where I was when I started and I didn’t have a specific place I wanted to go.”

It’s an incredibly lame answer when one considers that I simply hate my job. I hate the high school-ness of it. The being here between a certain number of hours and being at your desk looking busy. Sure I get to talk to my friends and we talk about the work we have to get done and people we don’t like. And I can decorate my locker (cubicle) anyway I want. It’s sooo high school.

Now that I’ve said all this, what does it mean for me? What step should I take? I’m playing a waiting game until after the test Thursday. What will I hear when I wake up? If I’m going to die, I know exactly what I’ll do. If I’m going to live…What next?

I felt the same way when I came back from my surfing vacation in Mexico. What happened next? Nothing. I wrote a post and went back to the life I’d taken a vacation from. I try to be thankful for this job (after all it payed for the vacation), and sometimes I can make myself believe it. But I’ve been there for over 5 years, and I’ve wanted out of for about four. What does that say about me?

I don’t leave it because I’ve got it in my head that: nothing else would be any better; there’s bullshit wherever you go; I’d never find another job making as much money with my kind of vague, though solid, skills; there are much worse bosses out there; the people I like here are good friends, etc, etc and a cashmere sweater.  I don’t even try anymore. I’m just thankful for the insurance and the sick leave.  Is that not sad? Yes it is sad. I’m worth more right?

Now that I think about it, in the 5 years I’ve had this job I’ve had 4 medical procedures requiring going to, if not staying in, the hospital. Before that, as an adult? 0. My god, I think my job is literally making me sick! Maybe it’s just an age thing? Maybe I’m just going through a rough patch. But if I subscribe to the notion that everything happens for a reason, I have to admit, it’s a little strange.

My father died 20 years ago today (January 19). It’s been a long 20 years, but still, somehow, unproductive. I still miss him. I’m still angry that he died when he did. I’m still adrift in some ways since then.

When he died I was a senior in college about to start my last semester. This is a pivotal point in a person’s life. Especially a person like me who can just sort of, go with the flow. I had no real goals, although I applied to graduate school. (That was one of the last things my father helped me do, get out those applications, edit my essay, help me decide where to apply.)  Not really thinking about it. I just thought graduate school would be a safe bet, a continuation of school, which was pretty much all I knew after 16 years. And I’m great at doing what I’m told.

When he died I just floated, not with lightness, but without any sort of grounding. I went through the motions, again without really thinking about what I wanted, whatever was easiest, whatever caused the least stress for everyone. So I went to graduate school. Again with no goal in mind for the education or the degree.

Real goals, things I really really really want to do, rest at the back of my mind, waiting for me to pick them up and do something with them. I never do. Let me restate that: I often let them continue to rest, until they fade away, and I forget them completely. Because as I sit here now, I can’t think of a single real goal from graduate school. Everything I did was along the path of least resistance. Everything I chose required little action from me, little choice.  Somehow hoping my stillness would bring great change.

I was left with this wanting, this feeling of incompleteness and joylessness. I wanted more, but not only did I not know how to go after it, I didn’t even how to think of it. I would try something and hope it would magically change my life. At the first sign that it would not, or the changes I would have to make would be too great, I would drop it and move on to something else. I’ve done this with hobbies, sports, cities, people.  I’m constantly starting over, beginning again. And I’m a fabulous beginner. I can go from absolutely no knowledge to low intermediate in the time it takes others to figure out how to pronounce the thing. But I leave. I always have.

Yoga will be the challenge to this. I’ve been doing yoga for a year now and I don’t see giving it up any time soon.  Just when I think it’s routine and just an exercise, I’ll have to leave a class in a hurry racing to my car before I burst into tears. Holding it in the parking lot. Then safely away at the first stop light, I Sob. Sob for whatever feeling that came up in whatever asana. Sob for my life. Sob for my fatherless family. Sob that I still feel lost after all these years.