It sounds so lovely. So spacious, free, accepting. Easful.
I came into class this morning feeling open and glad to be awake. Finally free of my cold that seemed to linger longer than I would have liked. Feeling lighter. Ready to move. Desperate to move actually. I had a busy day ahead of me, but I was relaxed about it. Feeling settled. Ready to dedicate a day to helping others. Ready to be inspired by others’ bravery. Ready to humbly practice my gifts in service of others.
The theme today in class was spaciousness, or making space. Focus was on shoulders. I’m always tight in my shoulders and always appreciate the extra love here. My beautiful teacher took a different approach today. We looked at making space from the inside out. It’s something I’ve been working on lately. In opening meditation we were asked to take up more space with each breath. Breathe into our hands on our chest and hold ourselves with worthiness.
Take up more space.
I’ve been toying with why this is so hard lately. There’s the part of me that feels worthy. Worthy of inhaling new life, new space, love and acceptance into my being. Worthy of inviting it all in and experiencing all this beautiful life has to offer. But, in honesty, there’s also the part of me that has spent its entire existing trying to take up less space. Physically and metaphorically.
Today in a gentle, but strong warrior two I began to feel nauseas. I could feel the unworthy part of me creeping up. A sense of “I can’t do this.” How can I take up more space when I feel so unworthy of doing so? When I dedicated years of my life to being smaller? There was a moment of panic when this was so clearly articulated for me. A panicked moment of needing that part of me; the unworthy, eating disordered, twisted, small part of me gone.
I should be over this. I’m not sick anymore. What is she doing here? I dealt with her already. This is my time for self-care. My time to restore. Move. Breathe. Be. I was feeling good this morning. Open. Not dizzy, nauseous and unworthy.
So much resistance to the resistance. The longest drawn out moment of panic and anger and disgust. I don’t want to be here again.
So many options in this moment. My initial reaction is to tough it out. Suck it up. It doesn’t matter that you’re dizzy. Keep on standing. Show that unworthy part of you who’s boss. But that’s the unworthy part of me speaking. Beating up on itself. “Tough it out” doesn’t sound very spacious to me. It sounds contracted. Unkind. Not compassionate. Not loving. Instead of following my initial reaction, I followed my gut reaction. Instead I took a child’s pose. Surrendered to the moment.
Part of me knew child’s pose was exactly where I was supposed to be. Restore. Breathe. Integrate. It’s all okay. That strength telling the rest of me it’s going to be okay. But that other voice was still screaming. “Everyone else is still working and I’m sitting here in child’s pose.” Jen put her hands on me and all the parts of me settled. That small, unhappy voice softened. “okay, if she thinks its okay then I’m okay.” Instead of reassuring her, the rest of me gets frustrated with even this thought, “of course it’s okay. I don’t need somebody else to tell me that.” Even child’s pose was full of conflict. So much resistance to the resistance. And who the fuck gave her the right to show up with such a clear voice today?
If even child’s pose doesn’t feel good, then I should stay here a little longer.
Tears in my eyes as I gave into the resistance. Gave into the unworthiness. I will never be over this.
But, never being over this isn’t a bad thing. I can’t get rid of that part of me. I can only redefine my relationship with her. Communicate more openly. Breathe with her. Invite her in too. Upon reflection, I wouldn’t have had this experience if I hadn’t felt more open today. I wouldn’t have heard that doubt so clearly if I hadn’t felt better and more alive this morning. I’ve been suffocating my unworthiness for a while now. Not so willing to hear from all sides. Just trying to hold my shit together which means no room for the unwanted.
Sometimes more space doesn’t initially feel good. Today it felt like shit. Today it felt like nauseous, unworthy, not good enoughness. But, I made space for that hurt, confused part of me too. She’s worthy too and I know from the past that when I fight with her, tell her to get lost and shove her further down she only hurts more. In a war with yourself only you lose. Nobody wins.
So, as much as I resisted, I let her into my practice today too. That small part of me that feels so desperately unworthy of love, of space and of myself. There’s room for all of it. This is showing up. This is making space. It doesn’t have to feel beautiful. It’s messy and complicated and full of conflict. And, with patience, there’s room for all of that too. The trick is not to pick sides. To honour it all.
Life isn’t about getting better. Old wounds will always hurt when we scratch at them. It doesn’t mean we haven’t done our work. It just means that we get to relearn things over and over, on deeper and deeper levels. We get to create more and more space each time we face our old demons. And, maybe the demons aren’t so scary. Perhaps they are just as much in need of love as the rest of you? Perhaps more so?
I came to work after class this morning and did restorative yoga for 30minutes. Making space for myself in my office which is dedicated to making space for others. I am so grateful for such a challenging and confusing opportunity for growth.
With love and reverence I bow to all the parts of me.