Maybe It’s Just Me

Sometimes after yoga, the feeling of emptiness and relief is so overwhelming that it actually makes me worry. I go through the twists and bending poses, bend deeply into the hip openers and focus on my breath. I start the process feeling heavy with a full plate of the day’s thoughts. I try my best to surrender to the poses, even when my body doesn’t fully cooperate.

When I finally settle into savasana, I feel like a towel that has been wrung out in both directions. I lay there thankful for my body and for the many self-judgements I abandoned on the mat that day.

I continue with the rest of my day feeling at peace, feeling empty. I am not actively thinking about the things I can’t control. I am no longer trying to find strategies to solve problems that possibly only really exist in my mind. I feel free not only mentally but my body feels more spacious. My spine feels like each vertebrae has just a tiny bit more room, the nerves under my skin feel restful.

I am left relaxing in my movements like an empty boat in the lake on a windless afternoon. This emptiness makes me feel uncomfortable, because my mind is used to searching for a problem to solve. My mind is not used to the silence, and it’s like I can see that it is desperately trying to revive some issue to focus on. It thinks that we cannot be inspired to create art without some pressure.

I start feeling pressured to make art; my ego needs art to feel validation. Creating art of course brings me much pleasure and satisfaction. It is almost like baking. I love mixing the ingredients, adding some drama here and a little sadness along the edges here and there. Sometimes I feel that yoga takes the edge off a little too much, like something more than just the day’s stress gets lost in the process. But maybe it’s just me….

You Don’t Know

Something unexpected happens and you feel surprised. You don’t fully know why it happened but something happened and it changed your routine. It changed the routine of your day and the order of your thoughts and it created different emotions from the ones you are used to.

Photo by Nik Ramzi Nik Hassan on Unsplash

Maybe there was a new surge of hope or a sudden stomach full of fear, nonetheless this emotion felt stimulating. Then, after a few minutes, the initial feeling of surprise started wearing off.

This is where the moment becomes dangerous, and you might start brewing up a story in your mind. You might apply significance or meaning to what just transpired, before you get the chance to have it actually play out. You might call or text a friend to quickly share your experience, before the tiniest details are forgotten.

You might start daydreaming and making plans. You could start feeling anxious and thinking of the worst possible outcome. Stop. This is the moment that will trap you in a fantasy of your own making, a tale that will prevent the flower of your being from unfolding in the order that it is meant to.

Take a deep breath and realize that the racing thoughts in your mind are just thoughts – you don’t know anything. You don’t know anything; the door is wide open; a brand new moment awaits if you just stop trying to control everything.

Playing with Fire

Suddenly it felt like there was a fire burning inside my stomach. I felt the muscles in my arms tighten and stretch, as if I was turning into some kind of beast. The feeling of anger was unbearable and even my slowest, deepest breaths were doing little to calm me down. It was as if the air hitting my lungs was actually feeding the fire.

Photo by Peter John Maridable on Unsplash

There are so many people, nowadays, saying how we should go with the flow and that whatever happens to us is simply meant to be. We accept these projected truths and try to repress our emotions as we go on with our lives. I totally agree that the majority of the things that happen to us carry important lessons that bring us the benefit of growth in the long run. “In the long run,” is the part that I feel creates the full picture though.

I was having one of the best days, and suddenly a coworker interrupting my flow triggered a slight reaction in my body. I had my headphones in my ears, but he kept asking me questions about movies that I didn’t watch. I felt it was evident from my body language that I was not interested. I was listening to a podcast about letting go, and here my coworker could not just let me listen.

Perhaps, I was actually mad at the guy in the podcast, and my coworker only added oil into the fire. “Just let it go!” These are the words that I keep hearing from everybody. Then I go about my day trying to force it and focusing on the good things. This does not help when there are still active fires burning in my body.

Anyway, the fires kept spreading, and by the time I was aware of them, it was not possible for me to control them on my own. I just sat there at my desk letting the anger burn through me, then I got home and let it burn me some more, then I went to meditation class and finally after the 2 hour class I felt some relief.

Today I am feeling much better, but just learning my lesson that it is okay to feel angry. Even though the universe or God may have a specific plan for you and things don’t always work out the way you hoped they would, your feelings are still valid and need to be processed.

The Best Advice

They have good intentions, the people who offer us advice. I also often find myself consulting friends and family about different aspects of my life. I feel like I need an outsider’s perspective to either prove or disprove my own opinion about something.

I ask different people for advice, so that I can see my problem from many different angles. It’s not enough that I already see it from many angles on my own, but I keep pushing to get to the bottom of the situation by asking for more. This week my mind felt exhausted from all of this, and I realized that perhaps seeing a story through many different filters is not really helpful at all.

It is like starting a process over and over instead of allowing it to just run its course. When there are too many angles to choose from, I think we often cheat ourselves of just diving really deep into one. I feel like whichever angle we choose; it will still teach us an important lesson. Ultimately it will be a lesson of acceptance and letting go.

This week, I gave myself permission to relax and receive a Reiki session from a very compassionate healer. She told me I was a sponge for Reiki, and I felt this healing energy really expanding through my resting body. After the session, she told me that my heart and sacral chakras were the ones that needed the most attention. Both of these chakras are associated with one’s emotions.

The sacral chakra is the one that’s located just bellow the belly button. When this chakra is out of balance, there is a lot of fear and anxiety that may cause us to be emotionally detached or overreact a lot. The heart chakra on the other hand is located at the center of your chest. When this chakra is out of balance, we may feel unworthy and have difficulty trusting ourselves or others.

After the session, the Reiki practitioner asked me if I have been experiencing any emotional issues lately. I told her that I was having trouble letting go of a situation that has disappointed me. I explained that my friends gave me firm advice that I must try to move on from this situation as soon as possible. She said that other people’s advice does not always work for us as they may not fully understand the reasons for our struggles.

She told me to try relaying on myself more, and to avoid asking for advice. It has only been two days that I have spent reflecting in silence. The first day was difficult as I felt a lot of anger come up for me, but today I felt a sense of peace I have not experienced in a while. I hope to continue along this path and see where my own decisions take me.

Thinking Space

How can I create more space in my mind? This is something I have been wondering about as my thoughts are often wrapped with thick beliefs that weigh me down and make everything seem so serious. I have to step back and tell myself that thoughts are just thoughts.

Ever since I can remember, I was told to believe. They told me to believe in God and to believe that I have to feel guilty and repent my actions even though I was just an innocent child. They told me to believe that I would not be successful in life unless I take out a bunch of student loans and get a college degree. My college professor even made me believe that no matter how great I was, I would not get accepted to my desired graduate school.

Well, you believe these kinds of things, when you consider other people to have authority over you, instead of listening to your own intuition. I recently noticed that friends that have less education and less influence from others are more successful. It’s almost like they have been using some other power and not focusing on the analytics of their brain. They are somehow able to step into the flow.

It’s just like trees swaying with the push of the wind, they are able to bend just enough and move through the energy without breaking themselves down. They blossom in the springtime allowing the bumblebees to feed off the nectar of their flowering leaves. There is just enough space between their branches for the squirrels and birds to pass through.

So, I’m breathing more deeply and recognizing the space between my thoughts a little more, letting them settle down with more room around them. I am not placing these thoughts into any specific categories, but instead allowing them to fall like leaves where they please.

You Are Not Alone

You are not alone. Some days, I feel like nobody understands me, the loneliness overwhelms me. My reaction to these feelings is usually to disconnect even further and just dwell in the hopelessness. I try to isolate myself and ignore messages from friends. I impose a social media break also, because I’m exhausted from comparing myself to others. I feel like I might also be doing that subconsciously, because I want other people to wonder why I’m not online. This all sounds extremely childish.

I suppose this is one of those inner-child outbursts. There is so much control that the inner-child has over me, and it is hard to stop catering to those impulses. I judge myself that at my age I should not be acting out these patterns anymore. I have to keep stepping back and trying to see the bigger picture of the situation. I have to keep becoming aware that the loneliness I am feeling is caused by me abandoning myself.

Yesterday, the heaviness set in again. I had a choice to sulk in it, or to let it go. Sometimes, it just overtakes me, and I don’t even get a chance to make the choice. Yesterday, I surrendered to the body instead of what the mind was asking for. I left my office and lay down on the stone bench in front of the building. Its warmth hugged my body, and after a few moments, I started feeling relaxed. The sun and the wind kept me distracted just enough to prevent me from falling asleep completely.

I suddenly felt a loving presence hovering over me. I opened my eyes, and the tree to my right glistened with compassion. We connected, and I felt myself being held. I was grateful. I felt reset, energized and was able to finish off the work day smoothly. At least for now – the inner-child seemed pacified.

Feeling Unseen

It felt like stinging in my heart when I came across a quote this morning, “If he misses you, he’ll call. If he wants you, he’ll say it. And if he cares he’ll show it…”. There was a little more to it, but you get the idea. I often don’t see the bigger picture, especially when it comes to relationships. I focus on the short moments that I find magical. I have been wrapping myself around these little moments, like a wrapper around hard candy. Hard candy moments to be savored past their expiration dates.

I also like to analyze those brief time flashes of happiness and get lost in them. It’s like a daydream that I keep coming back to, instead of looking at the situation logically. For example, let’s say I would get close with a guy, and we end up kissing, and I am pleasantly surprised with how well we are connecting. The kisses are soft and slow, and his hands caress my cheeks like no one else every did. I feel the tips of our noses touch briefly and then he kisses my forehead, the perfect way that I used to love in my childhood days.

That was indeed a beautiful moment I described there, but after what seemed like a wonderful evening, the guy did not reach out to me the next day. I was feeling insecure and wondering if I did anything that was frowned upon. The feelings of inadequacy kept coming up throughout the day, and I did not care for them. I wanted to block them out, and so I focused on that moment of bliss, diving deeper into it, building it up, and this way allowing myself to tolerate being unseen.

The feeling of being unseen is scary; to know that you don’t matter to someone in the way you would like to. Facing reality is a difficult task for me, because when I really work things out for what they are, I feel like there is no turning back. My heart is even beating faster now as I type this. Maybe I have read too many fairytales as a child, in which the princess is always saved by the interference of magic, but sometimes the reality is quite clear.

Beneath the Sadness

Boyfriends have always told me there was a certain sadness in my eyes, even in the midst of creating happy memories. As a teenager it was something that I felt sort of proud of, because I enjoyed being the eccentric girl – standing apart from the crowd. A classmate even referred to me as the nick name of the character, Laura, from The Glass Menagerie – “Blue Roses”. I found hearing this dark and endearing, and I looked forward to those spontaneous moments.

As I moved through life, the sadness was noticed by many from time to time. It would always peak out its head just to make sure someone noticed it was there. I have lived with it all my life so it was just a part of me; a part I often joked about with a bright smile. I smile a lot, and wonder if it is subconsciously to compensate for the rest of the sadness.

The other day, I was spending time with a friend, and he mentioned it again – my sadness. It was actually in a moment when I was really feeling sad, so I probably looked even sadder. He said there is a deep sadness inside me that I am trying to work out. I never thought about it like that before; I just assumed the sadness was part of who I am. I don’t know how the world would feel without it there.

I don’t know if the sadness is totally my own or is it a reflection of the things I experience in my daily life. When I spend time with people, I can also really tap into their own sadness. I feel the cold tingling in various parts of my body; usually around my upper thighs and my buttocks. The people’s sadness and discomfort envelopes me.

I spent a couple hours in the park today as a self-love exercise. It’s a beautiful spring day, and the park was smiling in flowers. I practiced some Tai Chi on the grass and then roamed around the little alleys and ways and snapped a few photos. I redirected the camera to capture my face, and all of the pictures looked so full of sadness. Looking into my eyes, I felt sorry for myself. I felt that I have made myself suffer; that I must have been too harsh with myself lately.

Today’s sadness feels like it’s a little closer to the surface than the usual dose. I wonder if it’s tired of hiding inside and trying to show me something. I often wonder what else is there beneath the sadness.

Allowing

It’s a Friday night, and I was looking forward to going dancing so I could shake out the discomfort that I have been carrying around for the last few days. Dancing does that for me, it literally shakes it all out like a pepper shaker. The vibrations of music travel through my skin and delve into all my organs releasing unwelcome tension. The euphoria of getting lost on the dance floor full of bodies kicks in, and I relax into the unexpected songs being offered every 3 to 4 minutes. After a while, we all become one, friends and strangers and we support each other, following each other’s beat, staying in the flow, admiring each other’s light.

Anyway, tonight I decided to stay home and give myself the attention I was craving from others. My body has been complaining of aches all day, and I wanted to just lay there and feel into each and every one layer by layer until the blockages would start popping open. It has been mostly my left side that has been suffering, the area around my heart, the part that holds the spleen, and part of my back near my left shoulder blade.

I lay on the bed, stretching out my legs and relaxing into myself, “relax, relax, relax,” I repeated slowly inside my mind. My legs relaxed, and I felt the spirit inside them dive deeper into the mattress. I relaxed my hips and my lower belly, and then I felt the bulge of clumped up energy pooling around in my solar plexus. I placed my hands on the small mountain of discomfort and tried settling it down. It felt fixed and immovable. I closed my eyes and tried to breathe slower and deeper into myself, slow and steady, and it felt like forever. With each long breath a little layer of pain was peeled off, and I felt like I was again falling deeper into my mattress. Layers of me were being pushed into its fabric.

The solar plexus holds your personal power. When it is weak or clogged up, it makes it hard for your light to shine. For years I have been afraid of knowing what powers are contained inside. I felt intimidated by the amount of work I might have to put in so I can feel the confidence of these powers. I felt satisfaction of hiding behind various kinds of pain that I created in order to block access to that door. I would give birth to this pain and then wallow in it as long as possible, in order to have an excuse for staying small.

Tonight, I approached the feelings with a different intention. Instead of portraying myself as a victim, I observed myself as a woman. With compassion I held myself there, and listened to each energetic complaint the body parts held onto. Each layer that was released felt lighter and lighter as my shoulders released deeper into my pillow. I observed my body falling more open, allowing itself to fall, allowing itself to fall even if it would be at risk of falling apart.

I was afraid, I felt raw and exposed letting myself see me like that; to see myself as an injured body that just needed my attention. The knots started loosening up even more, with each deep breath, and I drifted further and further into emptiness. My body, after several days of insomnia, finally allowed itself to take a healing nap. I woke up feeling refreshed, and with a little more space there in my power center; a little more space waiting to be explored.