Ironically, each time this happens I find that what’s already on the page is in a mystifying sort of alignment with the process...
Today was the first day in the challenge that the writing itself was a struggle. I couldn’t be authentic in my memoirial (new word!) banter because the of the gymnastics of staying “identity neutral” regarding some of the living characters in my narrative. I felt frustrated and thwarted and just wanted to give into a “damn the torpedoes” rant just to release some of the pressure.
I wished I could just stop typing and do yoga, but I was on a timeline so I tried to write about yoga instead. I’ve never stuck with yoga long; even though it feels brilliant when I start, I have a history of getting hurt on my own and don’t trust just any teacher (I was spoiled because most classes I’ve taken were John Friend or his students). Of course there are the logistics of adding yoga to an already full life, but in writing I see that now I’ve begun to hunger for it.
I recognized on a visceral level the role that yoga plays in the transformation that this challenge is pushing me toward. I’ve done at least savasana each day, and I’ve added a small amount of asana work a few times. Most notably though, I’ve discovered that when I am done writing difficult things I have to take warrior pose or scream. I need to take up space with a strong physical stance, feel the sinews in my forearms tingle as I engage those muscles in both directions at once. My body itself is insisting that I expand beyond what was possible only two weeks ago!
What does it mean to change my life? It means holding a posture of strong vulnerability while the needed changes take place, excruciating and heart-stopping as they may be: to stay “open during renovation”. There are few things more terrifying than claiming one’s own power. The responsibility and the authority are astonishing in scope, because our power really is that great.
Changing my life means doing the work anyway, because to do otherwise is to be less than authentically myself. It’s uncomfortable to realize that waiting to do the work is simply no longer an option.
The stepping-off point is like getting a tattoo: you want it, you ask for it, and it hurts like hell! You can’t change your mind part-way through, and you’re screwed if you flinch- so you find whatever reserves of grit and raw determination you have hidden deep within (and it is always there, make no mistake) and then it’s over! Only it’s not. It’s raw and tender like the wound it is. You have to protect it by exposing it, make it strong my keeping it supple. Amidst all the paradox, you have to keep in mind that the whole thing was your idea. Yeah, doing inner work is like getting a tattoo on your soul.
I hired a therapist on my lunch break yesterday because this childhood-related “breakthrough project” is long overdue. I call it a project because I have a specific goal, I know the issues and the roadblocks, and I have some sense of the work I have ahead of me. I include the term breakthrough to remind me that what I am going for is to get to the other side of the murkiness and not just to wallow in it.
I’ve hired a professional because I need someone whose perspective is steady to help me navigate the slippery times when I can’t tell “then” from “now”, and to keep me focused on the reason I choose to continue: First break down, then break through. I do well with strategies.
I knew this project was immanent but held off for the same reason that I haven’t found a yoga teacher: you can’t tell who is right for you until you invest the time and energy and risk your psyche or your knees (depending on which professional we’re talking about here), and spend a lot of time choosing your team when all you really want to do is actually turn up and do the work! Who wants to do the “intro rap” on their deepest and darkest over and over again?
Still, I am just as rotten shrink for myself as I am a yoga instructor. For once, the wisest advice is to look outside myself - so I did, and I think I’ve found a gem.
Historically, once I’ve landed in therapy I am a very serious study. I saw a counselor in Seattle who once told me, “I’ve never seen anyone work as hard as you do. I give you a suggestion and by the next week you’ve grappled with it. You’re sort of fearless that way.”
All well and good, all mighty and fearless perhaps, in identifying patterns and confronting how I have limited myself because of my past - but this kind of work has done nothing to actually help me resolve it. In my own estimation I have yet to bring forward my truly fearless aspect, but the prospect of doing so makes me simultaneously giddy and calm in a sort of unified-with-the source kind of way.
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