Accepting All that is Arising

Do you know what has been arising for me?

One moment I am grateful, calm, peaceful and flowing with ease and grace. The next moment, I react. My jaw clenches, my eyes furrow, my stomach turns and I feel nausea. What is happening?  I am grateful. I am being present. I am appreciative. I am continuing with my practice. AND I am reacting. AND I am rigid.

Listening to the words of my teacher, I am fluctuating. 

I am rising. I am dipping.

While I was sitting at his feet in India during a satsang, or a wisdom talk, he shared this would happened.  He did not predict this would happen for me, he has seen it happen with others. I heard him, I listened to him share.

It is one thing to hear words to describe something, it is another to experience it, to know it.

I am experiencing this, what he was talking about then, NOW.

“As you go in time, you will fluctuate. Your old tendencies will come back and sometimes they will come back with a vengeance, stronger. They actually don’t come out stronger, but they feel like. Why, because now you have contrast. Like once you tasted really good food, so bad food tastes worse. So now when you have that emotional state or that state of stress arises or those thoughts you are more aware, you notice it more. It feels like you are lower, but you are not, you are just aware now.”

I have experienced dips and falls before. I notice that comes on quick and fast. Catching me off guard. It appears, as if it comes from no where. Just like that it is here, as if the cloak has been draped over me and I can not see or breathe. It lingers around.  It fades.  Then in is gone. In the aftermath, I wonder, what just happened?  Where did that come from?

It’s like a storm.  When I lived in the city, I could not see the whole sky. I could see the sky, I could not see its vastness.  When a storm rolled in, it would catch me by surprise. “Where did that come from,” I would ask. When I moved to Wyoming, I could see for miles. I could see into the distance. I could see a storm rolling in, the clouds collecting, the sky getting darker, the wind picking up. I had time to “prepare” if I wanted, to get inside, in a tent, to put on a jacket. 

There are pieces of me that weather the storm, unaffected by what is presented. It is not that I am indifferent or aloof, its just that it doesn’t bother me. What is happening is happening. I know it will pass. It does not stay. Nothing is permanent.

I haven’t always felt that way. I could and would easily get drawn in to drama triangles and get really worked up. When I was in graduate school, working on my thesis, I felt impending doom.  I really felt that I would self-destruct if it was not perfect, exactly as I expected, thought or created in my mind. I stayed up all night working. Editing. Revising. Reading. Editing. Revising. Reading. Eventually the time came for it to be done. The morning came. The sun brought its light to the darkness of the night. As. It. Always. Does. For that is what the sun knows, it is its nature to be light.

The other day while going for a hike, we came upon a muddy section on our path. One of my nieces stepped into the mud and her boot got sucked in.  The kind of sucked that could have held the boot unless you give energy and pull it out.  The kind of stuck when you can pull out your foot and the boot remains.  She lifted her foot and with a sluuup sound, out came her boot.  Later in the day the words, stuck and sticky arrived for me.  Hum, I thought.  Stuck. Sticky.  Its like you can stay there and start sinking, or you can pull yourself out. A space where one can remain in the muck, if one does not lift themselves out.

Which brings me to another teaching from my teacher.

In India, while in Varanasi, I had an opportunity to watch a man use a loom to create a sari. In another section of the space, there was a vat filled with vegetable dye, used to color the sari. You dip the fabric in the dye and set it out in to the sun to dry. In the drying, the color fades, so you dip the fabric again and set it out to try. Dip, dry, fade. This is the process. In this process, the dipping, the drying, the fading, the color becomes stronger. It becomes vibrant. It develops its steadfastness.

“When this happens, be aware, don’t judge. In the judgment comes defense. Cognize and you will stabilize. Stay consistent with your practice and you will bounce back. Keep your head up,” Anandji shares.

There is a process. This is how we progress.

Rise. Fall. Get back up. Dip. Dry. Fade.

Accept all that is arising for you with kindness, compassion and love.

Loving you,

Sara