My thoughts can often splash onto open canvas
like the artwork of a 4 year old, newly introduced to finger paint. To avoid storytelling tangents, I’ve separated
the message I received and wish to share from the personal obstacle in which
life presented this opportunity. Both
are important to me, as sharing a very mundane experience is hardly a story;
but when genuinely, wholly present, I can touch much deeper meanings as to why
I am pulling this experience into my awareness.
Like many adults, lessons learned (and believed) are not rooted in “my
way” unless they are experienced. To consciously
seek a lesson from the simplest of encounters is the all-encompassing insight I
hope to inspire. Here is what I came up
with…
The Message:
I teach for a living. It is so ingrained in my being that I can
often get lost in this role. I approach
each day, armed with knowledge that I cannot wait to share. While this is a beautiful thing, it can also
trick into a pattern of missed opportunities.
The truth is, I am both teacher and the student, at all times,
simultaneously. I feel this about my
work, but to live it is something very different. It involves a conscious effort to escape the
walls of any title, role, and wall of expectation on how I should be. In reality, especially as a fully capable
adult, no matter what relation I have to a person or entity, the walls are ones
that I have built all on my own. In
that, they are solely mine to tear down.
That level of responsibility is the very core of awareness, and with
full acceptance there is infinite joy.
As kids, we are constantly reminded how much
we have to learn and grow, by school structure, parents, teachers, and even our
physical size. There is no question in
our mind whether we “know it all” because there is an inherent understanding
that we do not. We are in perpetual studentship
until at least the age of 18. As I get
lost in this place called adulthood, almost out of rebellion to academia and
authoritarian figures, I began regulating where and when I was willing to learn
anything at all. I may take on new work or
enroll in a class here or there; but this is just a microcosm of the lessons
trying to reach me, constrained by the limits of my own coarsened mind. Softening these walls takes heaps of patience,
unyielding compassion, and at all costs, humor.
Part of my growth as a conscious human is to remember how seriously fun it is to learn new things and to
expand how that looks.
As adults, we can forget that we still do not have all the answers nor do
we need them. I personally find people
more likeable when they are revealing to whatever so-called
vulnerabilities. It is called
authenticity. I am the first to admit I
have patterns of behavior that are holding me back, avoiding vulnerability--like
being caught in a detrimental brain-loop that weaves inauthenticity, filtering
over every thought and action to some degree.
The difficulty is how to identify these patterns. When I am “in the loop”, I cannot see what is
the self-inflicted pressure and what is my truth. In the quiet, it becomes clear how I want to approach each day--waking up with that starry-eyed, child-like knowing that I will learn something new and magnificent, especially from the muddiest parts of my day. I am choosing to enroll
as a student of Life, in which every day is a master class and every moment, a
lesson.
In a world where I play teacher all day (as a
trainer, wellness coach, nutrition counselor, etc.), I have to be creative in
how this occurs. I am not sitting as
pupil with the structure of a time and place that the learning will be
done. The transmissions are happening
constantly—in the disagreement with my partner, the discussion with a colleague,
the unraveling stories shared by friends and clients. Every person and encounter in my awareness
is, in truth, a teacher I have asked to be here. Where I expect to learn the least, whether
because of judgement or utter oblivion, often holds my greatest soul
instruction. I am not necessarily going
to gain knowledge from the surface delivery of a person’s words or
viewpoints. What I am looking for is how
I feel, how my mind and body react, how I face this reaction, and what it means
to me. The insight is gained by
approaching each interaction with curiosity, a child-like wonderment to
how I can grow right now, right here…and then here…and now over here. How beautiful it is to enter into each
conversation with a willingness to learn something. It is how we find joy even amidst the
suffering.
And so back to the all-encompassing truth…learning
and growing is the core of human experience
and does not end after childhood. The
very nature of this tells us that we have room to grow, always; that we are not
expected to behave perfectly; that we have a continual opportunity in every
single, precious moment to become better. When I am not looking
forward to something in my calendar, I can rest assured, it will bring with it something
instrumental to my growth…as long as I am listening.
The Experience:
In this exact moment, I am bordering on a
concussion after slamming my head into a very immobile, steel rod; which
incidentally presented a very interesting space for me to learn something as
well as relay it. I am mixing up letters
and writing a few things backwards, but with slow, gentleness, I am finding my
way back to normalcy.
Immediately upon collision, I fell back into
the pain and consciously witnessed the beginnings of my body’s patterned reaction:
- · Pain at point of contact
- · Tears welling-being fought down-welling up again
- · Victimhood-hoping someone asks if I’m OK and maybe dotes a little (and further into the victimhood spiral, if not!)
- · Body armor-saying I’m fine when I really don’t feel fine but wanting to appear tough (which in reality, is still part of the victimhood game)
- · Fear-that I might have really hurt myself, that I won’t be able to complete my day as planned.
The reaction that flashed all of these
thoughts were clearly my body’s patterned faceoff to pain, whether physical or
emotional. It being such a minor injury,
it was a perfect opportunity to witness
the thoughts and not feed them. (I will
attest to emotional opportunities being far more difficult to navigate but
also, very powerful teaching tools). In
the throw of reaction I asked to
shift my perception of the present situation.
I have been here before. Those of
you who know me are not surprised that I have rammed my head into a blunt
object! But how can I do it differently?
How can I unwind this unconscious reactivity to go into a well-processed
responsiveness? Instead of being flooded
by the emotions the trigger activated, I sat quietly, breathed slowly, and
allowed every thought and feeling to arrive.
With all unfavorable situations, there’s the initial shock, no matter
how big or small. The thing that triggers
is often arbitrary. In this case it was
a literal rattling to my brain but it is more often someone’s words or actions
that leave my feathers ruffled.
The awareness practice is to pay attention to
how I am being triggered not what
triggered me—how it pings, pokes, jabs, or guts—and to lean into that mess with
open arms. This desire to find peace in
the pain is the gateway to softening.
The usual reaction, the tensing into my own well-established body armor,
is just a loop within the pattern I am trying to escape. While it is apparent my head hurts, the
deeper awareness is to feel everywhere
that is reacting, physically and emotionally—to be with the nauseous stomach,
twitching eye, shaking hands; to honor the victimhood emotions rather than
stuff them down or spew them out; to gently observe my thoughts without judgement
and also transmute them out of the fear and insecurity from which they arose.
If I’m really listening, I am being required
to slow down. Literally, I need to slow
down so I don’t run into things! On a
shamanic level, I am seeking guidance from any and all things that enter my
field of awareness; and must slow down to appreciate the simple truth that magic is in happening every moment. I am fully responsible for pulling any
incident into my field of awareness, accident or not. In being a witness to my experience,
situations are no longer “happening to me” but “happening for me”.
When I allow the undesirable thoughts to show
themselves, I can actually watch the loop rather than participate with it. I become a student to the moment. I am accepting myself in this
conditioned-response, although I want to change it. To fully and inwardly acknowledge my reaction,
no matter how childish it feels, is the first step to making that change
possible. Emotions are like waves that
rise and fall, and if I wait them out, the water eventually stills. I am OK.
I am held in this space of my own awareness. And when my awareness is a pure field of love
and acceptance, I don’t have to search for the silver lining. Everything I require has already
arrived.
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