LiBEration

My desire to write, or lack thereof is what draws me to this piece. As I sat in the warm morning sun, feeling the slight breeze on my exposed skin, hearing the sound of birds signing and calling and watching the daffodils dance I thought, What would happen if I started typing? So here I am.

It is interesting to meet myself in this space, I hear Trevor Hall’s lyrics “I’m in the in between, things I have never seen,” arise from within. I always write. Or shall I say, I have always written. I write to process, to document, to leave traces and so little of that has been done in these past few weeks I am surprised. Curious maybe and at ease. There is a sense of peace, a stillness, a silence within. I am not chasing this, nor am I trying to figure it out or making meaning. Asking what happened? What shifted? Why? No none of these forces are here either pulling me or pushing me towards. It is the curiosity that leads me here.

I am getting curious about me. My actions, my choices, my body. This curiosity isn’t new, it’s not that I have not been curious before, I have. Somehow, right now it feels unfamiliar. Known and unfamiliar. Familiar though, not known. Or that space in between. The energy behind this curiosity, the energy backing it feels softer. Like a genuine curiosity, a playful one. One that isn’t drive by a gloom or looming sense of why?. Yes, it feels different, I am meeting myself in this different energy. Meeting myself in this innocence, in this playful manner.

For this to be, then there was once another way or there is another way. The way I had been meeting myself most often, it really was driven by a place of lack, of wrong, of withholding. A place of pain and hurt. Why, I can hear myself crying or softly whispering. Why? The word me follows in the faintest manner, why me? This hurt part of myself wondering why I had to endure, feel, grieve. Feel less than, pressured, shut off, excluded. Denied.

Coming into moments or reflecting on moments from this place of wronged or lack, something that I did to deserve this feeling of withholding or punishment shields and protects. This perception colors most inner feelings, the ones I masked from myself. I am really good at self-deception. I’ve developed quite a knack for this elusiveness. That is what has made this work, work. Hard work. Exhausting work. Tiring work. Work I have wanted to stop, to end, to opt out of.

I’ve been exploring the word Liberation. Embedded within the word itself is the key. It is right there for me to see, always there to be seen if I am open to it- be. LiBEration. For me to BE.

To be as is. To be in the moment. To be fully. To be here, not wanting to escape or go anywhere other than her (I wrote her, rather than here. Ah, the Great Mother, see how she hides, how shy she is to be seen? How she presents herself in subtle, often hidden, not always seen ways?). To be here. Fully. Really here. Not somewhere else in my mind, not traveling to some far off place. Here. Being here. Now. As me. Be.

And here it is. This ease. This calm. This stillness.

No desire to be anywhere other than here, to be doing anything other than this. Whatever this is. Me being me. Here and now.

I used to think this equilibrium was apathy, was depression, was lack of caring or interest in the world. I used to think this because I had no other form of connection to this feeling, this way of being. It felt foreign, different from my bustling mind, always occupied rushing from one thing to the next, filled with thoughts and to do lists. When my mind was quiet, I used to think something was wrong with me.

Let’s be with this.

For so long my mind was in constant chatter, constant action, that when it stopped, I thought something was wrong with me. Now I know that this silence, this stillness, this equilibrium is me, this is my natural state.

It arrived and met me. Through a lot of hard work, painstaking, challenging, hard work, it arrived. This stillness, which I in no way take for granted and I know (from experience) that it can come and go, was arrived to through commitment, steadfastness and dedication- staying with my practice, even when I wanted to stop. I learned early on that the desire to stop was actually a ploy to abandon myself, to turn away from myself. That was my go-to, to fill my days and nights with actions of avoidance. Sometimes turning towards my practice felt like that. The chanting of a mantra, round after round, while in a situation I wanted to leave. The sitting on my cushion with no energy to lift my hand to close a nostril for a breath technique. The laying down in my bed for my sadhana rather than being seated at my alter.  Although I see these actions as turning towards. Each time I made a conscious choice to move towards myself rather than turning away, I was feeding myself, nourishing myself rather than denying and depleting, or feeding the lack.

I know the difference now, the turning away actions are to numb, to distance, to separate. The turning towards is to feel, to be with, to sit in.

This turning towards is not always pleasant or desirable, especially when I am in it. It does not feel good to feel, especially the feelings I have been very good at ignoring and turning away from. All of the stuff that comes up is ugly and can be brutal. I see this when I see myself in these moments, when I look at myself in the mirror, when I hear myself through recordings I have made or when I read the words I have written. Although, I see now, that in these moments when was I despondent, confused, sad, full of hurt, pain, grief, anger, sorrow and wondering why, I was and I am simultaneously held. Being dragged and tossed and thrown around while being held at the same time.

Held by what you might ask. Held by grace. Held by love. Held in love that is always here. That is driving this action to see, to feel, to let go of, to drop, to loosen the grip, to release. To no longer be attached and driven by this sense of lack, of wrong doing, of depletion, of pain.

Held in love.

This grace of love. This soft love. This guiding love. This love that is always here. Hidden. Not easily seen, located, or felt. It is subtle and profound. The kind you go looking for, searching for only to find here. Never far. Ever present. Unchanging. This love pouring itself, from itself. Ceaselessly. Endlessly. This love.

On the evening of March 29th, after my ‘final’ evening practice within the energy of Shani Dev and sade sati, tears poured from my eyes this soft love, this love of awe and gratitude poured forth from me, I saw myself through. It was me. Yes, I had supports in so many forms that surrounded me and enveloped me, and I carried myself through. It was me. Turning towards me again and again and again. Being me.

Be.

Be, the hidden word embedded within all that I wanted and desired. To be free.

LiBEration.

Free to be me.

For who else can I be.

Meeting you here with a loving gaze, smile and hug,

S