All of my energy has been diverted into channels I don't quite recognize all of this churning, swirling chaos keeps crashing and collapsing inside Creativity is lost to me all my thoughts are occupied I gave up control a long time ago just let me be taken by the tide
A coyote cuts across the foggy highway a life held inside indecision, a moment's hesitation could be a violent end of everything all at once Sulfurous air that once shrouded out the sun a sudden impact that swallowed the earth in many decades of dark, lifeless winter Time has a way of emphasizing the absurdity of right and wrong when final outcomes are impossible to predict Half the suffering I've known has been an inner upheaval of moral outrage resistance to the evils of this world My stormy turmoil subsides if only I can learn to surrender all judgement and accept my place as a humble passenger Who am I to hold dominion over the way life is supposed to unfold? I prefer the role of patient witness anyway To watch with curious eyes and an open heart ready to embrace all of life with equanimity a grateful submission to existence beyond understanding To play my small part with a soft hand extending a gentle, hopeful intention of pure love prepared to let go of any and all expectations Tender feet along the balustrade, balancing between engagement and surrender too often falling into indignation and anger The perpetual repetition of life can be tedious but it offers endless chances to keep trying precious lessons linger behind a door that is always open Every failure is an opportunity to find grace there is no permanence, perfection, or wasted effort everything is as it should be, everything is as it should be
Artifacts of bright laughter fingers tracing patterns in thick layers of dust Joy shackled to a clock love and freedom rations doled out in small doses light dancing unwitnessed in the sharp art of crystal shards hidden behind thick walls the hard geode of conscience endless eclipse, sun over moon arresting the rhythm of the tide absence of sound that suffocates sinking below the weight of still water last sparking static of stagnant energy the sweet perfume of slow death sickening spirals of fragrant fog escape open pores in the earth unsustainable pressure crushes my pearl into powder
I used to feel my peace plucked away by random passersby pulled through my fingers like sand toward the irresistible call of earth's gravity Wind knocked from my lungs helpless and gasping on the ground a tender sapling in the torrent of a storm the vulnerable victim of a violent world crying out for some control I'm still learning to accept that although sudden sparks of suffering will inevitable steal a moment's joy I often choose to surrender much more than a moment The initial burn cannot be helped but touching the wound is my choice I'm the one who must decide to heal to move on rather than ruminate to avoid the formation of scars I hold myself over the flame of injustice for days, for months, for years a martyr of my own misunderstanding holding on to my suffering like a hot coal My peace cannot be taken from me it is a seedling inside my heart I must choose to turn forever towards the sun to learn to find it behind overcast skies constantly clearing away the weeds Control isn't something to be captured or to exert over the rest of the world a container to hide ourselves away from hurt control is a slow, subtle cultivation of comfort inside uncertainty
releasing control is a chance to rest to consciously accept whatever comes anguish adds up quickly when you try to achieve perfection leaving no room for error is a dance with dissatisfaction its funny how quickly I lose sight of the intention behind my machinations was I looking for precision or peace? the latter is always mine when I choose it there is nothing to fear when you're open to everything closing ourselves off is the cause of all distress a flower that only opens to the sun under pristine conditions, perfect circumstances will surely wither and die from stubbornness if nothing else the plucky dandelion that sprouts up through the crack in the crumbling cement will still find the light there waiting to offer warmth and life what we need, we can always find if we decide to lower the strict barriers blocking and restricting our sight an open palm to receive what a clenched fist cannot how absurd to sacrifice happiness in our pursuit of it to give up our inner peace to exert power over our surroundings the true trick is to learn how to soften when we are scared to remember that sometimes surrender will be what saves us
This past week, I met an amazing 16-year-old girl. She was charming, beautiful, intelligent, and interesting. Unfortunately, when I meet a kid, it’s usually because something awful has happened to them. This girl was no exception. Perhaps just exceptionally unfortunately for the story she came to tell. The fact that she had been through so much made her all the more incredible to me. She has no idea how much her bravery and resilience has moved me, and so many others.
This girl was subjected to constant bullying by her peers. It was heart breaking to see that she had really taken to heart the terrible things the other girls said to her. Although she was absolutely gorgeous and adorable, she genuinely thought that she was weird and ugly. The bitter jealously that surely inspired the harsh words hurled at her would result in a severely damaged self-image for the rest of her life. If this weren’t enough, her boyfriend was terrible to her as well. In addition to just being a general dirt-ball, piece of shit, he also drugged her and raped her one night.
The universe saw fit to withhold all mercy from this poor girl. After this heinous incident came to light, she discovered that she was pregnant. Understandably, being a 16-year-old rape victim, she couldn’t bear to go through with the pregnancy. Thankfully her mother supported her through all of this and took her into the nearest city, over an hour away, to get an abortion. After all that she had already been subjected to, she was traumatized yet again on her way into the facility. Consider for a moment the monsters that had the gall, the self-righteousness, the ignorance, to shout at this terrified, emotionally devastated, victimized, CHILD as she went to seek a legal, morally sound, medical procedure, that if not performed would have shackled her to her rapist for the rest of her life.
As my heart ached and my blood pressure began to rise, I waited in silence to hear what the CPS workers would say about this whole situation. My area is very conservative, so it’s never easy to tell who supports women’s rights and who doesn’t. Thankfully, all of the case workers believed that this young girl did the right thing. However, much to my chagrin, they seemed to only feel this way because she was raped. Otherwise, even though she is only 16, they would have demonized her for making the perfectly valid decision to have an abortion.
I simply CANNOT wrap my head around this. People seem to think the militant pro-lifers that make no exception for rape or incest are worse than the ones that do, but at least the former have some sense of logical consistency. All of these people try to pretend that the question is: Is this a baby, a human life, or not? If you’re truly against abortion because you believe every single zygote is a human being with rights, then what difference does it make how that life came to be? If your stance is that a fetus is a baby, it’s still a baby even if it’s the result of rape or incest. It’s not the baby’s fault. Why does this “life” no longer matter when the mother was raped?
No, this is where the true colors of pro-lifers really start to be revealed. For most of these people, whether they are consciously aware of it or not, the question has never been about the humanity of the fetus. It’s always been about punishing the woman. In the conservative mind, pregnancy is the price you pay for having sex. If that pregnancy happens out of wedlock, all the more reason the woman should suffer by being forced to raise a baby on her own, in their minds. They feel it’s “cheating” if women have the bodily autonomy to avoid this “consequence” of their “immoral” actions. Therefore, if you have voluntary sexual intercourse that results in a pregnancy, it’s a life. BUT if you became pregnant without consenting to sex, then it’s not a life, because you don’t deserve to be punished.
This abhorrent logic is also the reason the question of life is never posed to fertility clinics that have freezers full of fertilized eggs that will be quietly disposed of. No one is demanding that these fetuses be implanted into a woman and birthed. When a fetus is separated from a woman, no one cares. Because it’s never been about the fetus. It’s about controlling and penalizing women.
So returning to this brave little girl’s story, a few questions remain that I would have liked to ask these CPS workers and everyone that thinks this abortion was only okay because she was raped. Before all of this, the rapist was this girl’s boyfriend. They were dating. She freely admitted that she had had sex with him multiple times before he drugged and raped her that night. There is no way of telling if this conception happened because of one of the consensual encounters, or because of the rape. Statistically, it’s probably less likely to have been the latter. What then? Was the abortion okay, or not? What the hell difference does it make if the fetus was there before or after the rape? It’s absolute madness to imagine that detail is relevant to the morality and legitimacy of her decision. Yet, to millions of people, it is an important distinction.
I don’t know what will get through to people about the topic of abortion, but I hope that at least one person reading this has come away with a deeper understanding of the complexity and real-life significance of this issue for women. I also hope that if anyone who has protested outside of a clinic before is reading this, that you feel utterly ashamed of yourself. Let this be a lesson that you have no idea what someone else’s story is, nor do you have any right to make such an important decision on their behalf. With the treat of banning abortion resurfacing in the United States, I believe it’s more important now than ever for people to share their thoughts and stories about this devastating reality so many women face every day. While I am no less passionate about this issue because of it, I am so inexplicably grateful that I was lucky enough to have a doctor to perform a sterilization procedure on me at such a young age. I knew it was only a matter of time before this right was stripped away from me, and I won’t be a human incubator. Like so many women who have come before me, I would rather die. Surely we will come to realize that there are many more woman today who feel the same when women once again start dying from botched abortions in back alleys. Pro-life is just a dog whistle. It means anti-women.
Of all the things I fear, it isn’t now and it isn’t here.
Make a Change; Nahko Bear & Medicine for the People
I have been so very fortunate to not have suffered much misfortune in my life. My family members and myself have been healthy and safe. I’ve been treated with kindness, love, and respect by the vast majority of people in my life, most importantly my parents. I’ve never had to go to sleep hungry. Never lost a home due to financial strain or environmental disaster. I’ve always had wonderful, close friends. I’ve always lived amongst the lush green silence of nature. I’ve only experienced the loss of one close relative. I’ve never even broken a bone or been hospitalized.
Despite this, I seem to internally be in a state of constant suffering. I suffer the things that have not happened, the things that have yet to happen, the things that might happen someday. I’ve worried myself sick over thoughts of things that never came to pass. The vast majority of the things I’ve suffered were not realities, only fantasies. Anxiety is a near constant state of suffering future events. The worst part of that is, while there likely won’t always be something happening in your life that’s painful or frightening, there will always be something in the near of distant future that could be. This allows me to prolong my suffering indefinitely.
My pattern is to tell myself that whatever it is I’m fixating on is the “reason” I’m upset/unhappy. I desperately wish I had a magic wand to resolve this particular, isolated issue so that I could find peace and happiness. Even if I had the ability to immediately address, resolve, or prevent whatever it is I’m worrying about, I seem to forget that something else will just as quickly press in on me to take it’s place. Sometimes that same fear comes and goes on a revolving cycle, shaking me to my core and then dissipating without consequence.
My anxiety tells me that I have to be constantly vigilant, that I cannot let these possible catastrophes catch me by surprise. Somehow it feels like if I keep my mind constantly glued to what might happen, I’ll be more prepared if/when it does. I know this to be false though. For example, my dog has been ill on and off for months now. Each time she has a flare up, I grieve over her as if she’s died. I fear that day’s inevitable arrival and I ruminate on the pain it will cause me endlessly. Then when she feels better in a couple days, I forget all about it. Do I really believe that thinking about my beloved pup’s death will make it hurt any less when it happens? Obviously it will hurt terribly, unbearably. I can’t prevent that by making myself experience it before it even occurs. All that does is intensify and prolong my suffering.
This perpetual fear of the future is a thief that robs me of all the joys and wonderful moments of my life. It’s devastating to realize, looking back, that although I’m exhausted from the daily suffering I carry with me, nothing bad has actually happened to me. Surely my dog, as well as everyone else I love, will die someday. How can grieving those losses right now make that situation better? The knowledge that bad things can and likely will happen in the future shouldn’t take away the pleasure of living today when everything is alright. The thought of death and loss doesn’t have to be something that causes pain in the present. It can be a reminder of how wonderful our lives our right now. It can remind us to treasure every moment we spend together, to not take even the smallest moments of tenderness for granted, to make sure we express how much we love those in our lives.
My dog is going to die some day. Maybe tomorrow, maybe five years from now. Maybe I’ll be in a car accident on my way home and never have to experience her death at all. We don’t know what’s going to happen in the future. Even the things that seem inevitable, might be things that you won’t end up being around for anyway. The future is all just possibilities, created and crafted by our own limited minds. The present is real, it’s right in front of us. We hold it in our hands right now. It should be cherished. It deserves our full attention, our mindful presence, and loving awareness. Don’t let the future take away what you already have. If control is what I’m after, I should focus on what I can control and that is this moment, what the universe has placed before me in each unfolding moment, as it happens.
Anger is one of the hardest emotions for me to deal with, yet it is one of the ones I experience quite often. Even over the most trivial things, my anger will flare up and destroy my entire day. I’ve noticed it rearing it’s ugly head more and more often since stopping my SSRI. It’s been looming over my head for over a week now, threatening to consume me at the slightest inconvenience. I don’t even know what I’m angry about a lot of the time. If I had to pick something, I’d say I’m usually just angry at myself.
For example, last night my dog somehow got into a tin of weed gummies I bought for someone for Christmas, eating them all in a matter of minutes. I was so furious, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I wasn’t mad at her exactly. She’s just a sweet dog. She had no idea what she’d done, and she definitely paid the price for the rest of the evening. After that initial explosion of blinding rage, I usually turn my fury inwards. I’m mad at myself for being so mad, for not being able to control my emotions.
I think one of the reasons my anger tends to linger for so long is because I don’t know how to express it appropriately. Instead I try to stamp it out or push it down. Honestly, even looking it up hasn’t been much help in the way of learning how to express my anger in a healthy way. Most of the suggestions seem more like avoiding the anger than expressing it. If I express it at all, it’s usually in the most passive aggressive way possible. This is likely due to seeing my own mother deal with her anger in that way.
Anger is the most difficult emotion for me to deal with. Most of my other emotions are much easier to sit with, even the pain of sadness brings the relief of tears. There doesn’t seem to be any satisfying way for me to find relief from anger. Even if I lash out, it only leads to feelings of shame and guilt, or even fear in some cases if I’ve taken it out on someone I love and pushed them away. It also seems that anger begets only anger. It feeds off of itself, growing stronger and stronger as the day goes on and one irritation piles itself on top of another. Sometimes the shame is even welcomed as it momentarily diffuses my more explosive emotions and humbles me.
I genuinely don’t know who I am when I am angry. I see the discomfort and fear that I cause those around me, and despite my natural people-pleasing nature, even that can’t reach me in the moment. I feel as though I’m possessed, like I’m cornered and trapped with no escape route. I really think of myself as a sweet and friendly person, but the more often I find myself feeling angry and aggravated makes me question that self perception. I fear that others view me quite differently.
I’m truly at a loss about how to handle this disturbing aspect of my personality. Despite all of my self soothing techniques, my breath work, and my yoga practice, nothing is able to pull me back once I find myself on that perilous edge. The thought of meditating or anything like that only infuriates me further. My mind almost acts as if it wants to prolong or savor my anger. It feels as though my anger is justified and necessary in those moments. The idea of letting it go feels unjust and makes me even more angry somehow. I am the epitome of stubbornness when I’m angry. I don’t want to calm down. I want to explode and burn down everything around me. When I’m in that state not even the fear of severe consequences is able to restrain me.
I guess this is just yet another reason why I would benefit from talking to a therapist. I’m sure they would have some helpful advice to give me. For now I am going to try to do all that I can to simply sit with my anger. I want to examine it, mindfully move my mind over its surface, its edges, and its corners. Rather than staying locked away behind the aggressive rationalizations and justifications swirling around my mind, firing me up even more, I’m going to make an effort to remain in my body. I want to really feel exactly what’s happening. More importantly, I want to allow myself to feel it. One of the biggest hurdles is my absolute rejection of the emotion when it does arise. It seems unacceptable to me, which only makes it worse. Only by acknowledging and honoring my anger will I ever truly be able to let it go.
Change is scary. Especially when it’s unexpected. Sometimes even a good change can cause extreme levels of anxiety when it happens suddenly. Today I find myself struggling with that kind of change. All week I have been eagerly awaiting the weekend. I desperately needed a full day to rest and recharge. I have been feeling so overwhelmed and ungrounded. I was so happy that the weekend had finally arrived so that I could just relax and do some boring housework.
However, last night, out of nowhere, my boyfriend tells me that a few of his friends are going to drive down to the city near me tonight and wants us to hangout tomorrow. I felt my breath catch in my chest. I was filled with horror, dread, despair, and anger. How can he expect me to drop everything and see him on such short notice? How can I possibly get out of this? How can I mentally bear to go another full week with no chance to emotionally and energetically recover? I want to scream, to cry, to hide myself away, to disappear completely.
Amidst this already chaotic swirl of emotion I also felt immense guilt and shame for my involuntary reaction. The anger that I was initially directing outward at him for being “inconsiderate” was now turned back on myself for being so rigid and ungrateful. I was ashamed of my inflexible, violent nature. I couldn’t help thinking about the way a “normal” person would have reacted to the same surprise. An impromptu chance to see someone I love who I haven’t been able to be with in over a month? What an amazing opportunity! How fortunate! How exciting! That’s probably what most people would think. The layers of unwanted, uncomfortable emotions I was already feeling were condensed even more tightly around my heart by this realization and the guilt that it produced.
I spent all morning in a brutal battle with my own thoughts and feelings, arguing with myself, making excuses, imagining hateful words to spew at others and myself for the injustice of any inconvenience to my incredibly easy and privileged existence. My yoga class was undoubtably terrible earlier. I felt like a fraud, unworthy to lead my class with such a childish inner torrent raging inside of me. “None of this will matter at all next week, next month, next year.” I keep telling myself that. I keep reminding myself that at the end of my life, would I really be happy making a decision to sour this unexpected chance to be with my beloved simply because my house would have to remain uncleaned for yet another week? What is going to matter on my deathbed? Sundays spent in monotonous home maintenance or moments shared with those most important to me? Obviously the latter. So how can I still feel so unsafe inside?
Mental illness is not rational. That’s what it always comes down too. I can’t expect to explain away these feelings. I must make peace with the fact that logic and reason won’t make these thoughts and emotions go away. I have to accept them. I have to sit with them, watch them, get curious about them, learn from them. Instead of doing that, I busily flew around my house this morning trying to leave for my class on time after waking up late, planning a detailed message to send to my boyfriend. “You need to account for ‘x’ if you want ‘y’. I need this, this, and this, so I can be comfortable. These are all the ways in which you need to accommodate and tiptoe around my anxiety and OCD.”
Luckily I was too rushed to send anything until I had had a chance to calm down a bit. On my long drive to the studio, I had time to think. Is it really right for me to insist the people in my life enable me to continue on being enslaved to my unhealthy sense of control? Why should anyone else be burdened by these irrational “requirements”? That wouldn’t be good for them or for me. Once again, I was trying to mold the world into what I think it should be, to make every moment suit my personal preferences. I was placing the blame on the event (a sudden change of plans) instead of on my inner reaction (discomfort, anxiety, anger.) I can’t manipulate the world around me in a way that will shield me from these emotions. What I can do is learn how to tend to the emotions themselves.
Everything that we initially view as negative, irritating, or upsetting can ultimately be transformed in our mind into an opportunity for self study and inner growth. It’s easy to say that I want to be enlightened, that I want to find inner peace, but it’s much harder to be given the chance to cultivate that peace and enlightenment. It’s moments like these, the instances that cause avoidance and rejection to rise up inside of me, that are my greatest lessons, my greatest opportunities to practice being who I want to be.
Earlier this week, my friend at work accidentally dropped a mug on my favorite bowl and broke it. A few years ago, this would have devastated me. I may have even cried. Definitely would have harbored a silent anger and resentment toward my friend. Yet that day, after an initial jolt of disappointment and irritation, I saw an opportunity present itself. Instead of focusing on myself and my misfortune, my focus shifted to my friend. “She must feel so badly,” I thought with compassion. In that moment all I wanted was for her to know that I still felt nothing but love for her. That was what mattered, not an inanimate object.
Even though I’m not sure she fully believed me, I quickly told her that it was okay. I told her that I had been taught recently that we should perceive everything we have in this life as already being broken. That way we can enjoy it in the moment, and still be able to let it go when the time comes. I thanked her for giving me the chance to practice non-attachment and letting go. And I was thankful, surprisingly. I was even excited to witness the inner progress I had made. I genuinely wasn’t upset. I was actually eager to use this moment for my spiritual growth, to turn it into something much more valuable than a silly bowl.
Now I see that moment as preparation, a warm-up, for this weekend. Can I also practice letting go of my plans and the way I think things should be? Can I learn to embrace change instead of immediately rejecting it? Can I actively teach myself that I will be okay even when things don’t go the way I thought they would? These are all questions I have to ask myself today, ways in which I must now challenge myself. This weekend is a spiritual gift, even though it may not look like it right now.
I am going to be grateful. I choose to be grateful. I am going to stop being so upset with myself for the fact that it is a hard choice to make. Instead I am going to be proud of myself for even having the option. Not long ago, this choice wouldn’t have even been available to me. I would have been so lost in my immediate reaction that I would have completely missed this chance to shift perspective. Now thanks to my yoga practice and all the hard work I’ve been doing for years, I am able to see more clearly. I am more easily able to observe the storm inside myself without being sucked into it. The storm is still there, even as I write these words, but I’m going to sit with it for awhile, with compassion, with empathy, with curiosity, and with love.
As you know, I’ve been thinking a lot about exactly how I ended up so enmeshed in the repetitive behaviors I now perform daily. I thought back to the first time I remember giving myself a similar list of tasks. In the beginning, I remember it being so exciting. I had big plans about bettering myself and working towards becoming the person I wanted to be. I’ve come a long way since then. I’ve made a lot of progress towards those goals. However, sadly I seem to have lost the passion that drove me to start this journey in the first place.
It feels like in the last few years, I’ve started to stagnate. These efforts at self-improvement were supposed to be fun. I want to get back to that passion that I once had. I was energized by these activities rather than exasperated by them. I believed in myself, in my potential. I was excited at the idea of reaching my goals. Somewhere along the line I seem to have lost all that faith in myself. I lost sight of the self love that once spurred me onward.
Thankfully, spring always reawakens something inside of me. I feel filled with a new energy as the air begins to heat back up and the sun reemerges. And with the coming spring, I’ve also had an important realization. I’ve been scrambling around inside my head trying to figure out a way to make time to meet a new vegan friend I met online. I’ve been ridiculously stressed out by the effort of trying to cram yet another activity into my already busy schedule. Only after a few days of this psychotic planning did it suddenly dawn on me, it doesn’t even matter if I miss doing all of my usual things for ONE day. How obvious.
The whole point of the things I make myself do everyday is self-improvement. Doing them every day was just a way to get into the habit. It was just supposed to give me direction and a way to feel productive on days when I had nothing else to do. I don’t know at what point it started to dominate my life instead. It seems like for years now, I have been prioritizing these “hobbies” over everything else in my life. I don’t make plans with friends and family because I tell myself I don’t have time for it. I neglect other, more important things, in favor of completing my these rituals. Only very recently have I realized how absurd that is.
These activities were supposed to help me become a better person, not prevent me from living a normal life. The ultimate goal isn’t 365 consecutive days of checking off these arbitrary boxes, the goal was to use my time wisely and learn new things. It completely defeats the purpose if in the end these habits inhibit my life rather than compliment it.
This is why it is so important to have clear intentions for yourself. My intention somehow got lost along the way. Luckily I’m finding my way back to it. Maybe a few years ago, what I needed was to have a more structured routine, but needs change. It’s time I allow myself to change with them. These habits were meant to serve me, but instead they’ve consumed me. Now what I need is learn how to give myself a break. I need to remind myself that it’s okay to rest. I don’t want to look back on my life one day just to see hundreds of checked off to-do lists. I want to give myself the freedom to have spontaneous adventures and make meaningful memories as well.
Tomorrow I want to give myself a long over due gift. I want to have a day off, a day free from my own demands. I want to meet someone new, get to know them. I want to explore and be curious and flexible. I want to not worry about whether or not I’ll have time to read later or write in my gratitude journal. How silly that the act of writing down a list of things I’m grateful for everyday became more important than allowing myself the time to enjoy what I’m grateful for. It’s no wonder I’ve lost all of my drive and passion. I’ve burnt myself out a long time ago. I’ve been running on fumes. It’s time to stop and recharge. It’s time to take a day just to breathe, to reflect, to enjoy the progress I’ve made, and to share my new and improved self with new people and with the ones I love, the ones that have stuck with me through all of these years of being distant and uninvolved. It’s time for me to thank them for that. It’s time for my to thank myself and enjoy how far I’ve come, how strong I’ve been. Time to refocus on my intention and reignite that excitement, that passion for my life.
Protect the Innocent 