Monthly Archives: March 2014

Straddling the Gong of Being Here

It’s a mystery how things show up in our minds, as well as our bodies. In doing inquiry it is easy to see that the mechanics of the mind somehow create thoughts and images, and the mechanics of the body create sensations. They get jumbled together to “mean” things, and a sense of self is off to the races. Sometimes the race lasts an eternity. Sometimes it ebbs and flows. One thing we can count on as a human is imagination, and it can keep us hostage or it can set us free.

On and off I’ve had this feeling of “not belonging”. Through inquiry I’ve looked for the one who doesn’t belong, not able to find “her”. And yet I’ve recently noticed how strong the sense of it is- and how not belonging has led to not wanting to be here. The implications of that are that my imagination has come up with ways to not “be here”, how to not be an embodied person. More on embodiment later, I have a tale to tell. It doesn’t matter if it’s “real” or not. None of it really matters. This is a story of vulnerability and transparency, as it wants to be told.


At a course I attended a couple weeks ago I had a pretty intense experience with a small group of people where I had to “commit” to “being here” via words. Kinda hard to explain but it was as if , as I was letting words come from my mouth w/o any idea of what I was going to say, I was literally being birthed into this form, on this earth. As that happened, a sort of exorcism occurred. There was a small group of people around me, all of whom were supporting me energetically and physically as I crossed back and forth over the line of being here and going “back” (don’t know where). The embodiment of here was so painful. I screamed and sobbed and wanted to leave so desperately. I remember being here, and everything shifted and my system started to settle, and then all of a sudden I was plucked again off the planet. I don’t’ know by whom but it was horrifying and shocking to my system. It was painful to be “there.”  I was on overload. Then eventually I came back here as the people around me continued to help and guide me. Someone there was guiding me w/ words- “I belong here, I am here”, etc. The words, as I said them, felt horribly painful to say, and there was lots of resistance, and a lot of rejection and belief of NO I DON’T!!!! This embodiment moved in and out and through and against all of that. And eventually I landed. Here.


Today I was remembering never feeling that I belonged here as a young child, and as I got older, feeling into the pain body of that and wanting to leave the planet because I couldn’t get it worked out- I couldn’t get this place worked out. About 5 years ago I noticed that I’d stopped having those occasional thoughts of wanting to leave the planet when I was in my darkest moments. I think that happened alongside of some awakening bits. But the belief of not belonging here just got more subtle. I no longer wanted to leave the planet but I did my own version of leaving and of shutting things off and hiding, in the “awakening” of whatever was being awakened. I’m not beating myself up over it- it was an awakening that was gorgeous in it’s own way, but also was not embodied. I unconsciously spent a lot of time safely distancing myself from actually committing to *being here*. That showed up and continues to show up at times as me being superior, certain, hidden, disconnected, in/out-of control, weak, incompetent, passive, not good enough, unworthy, etc. Basically all attempts at being separate because “here” feels too overwhelming.


I’m more aware of the being that does belong here, that does want to be here, and regardless of belonging and wanting to be here, *IS* here. Yes! Yes- here I am! And yet I continue to sometimes feel like “I don’t belong here”- and in that belief, there are all sorts of different ways that I continue to try to avoid transparency and connection because *that* is the proof of commitment to being here. And tears now, because at times I still feel the push-pull of what feels like a really big task of showing up and being embodied while on this planet. It feels like a big task because of how easy it is for me to go up and out, into unity, into “oneness.” It’s easy for me to go up and out and experience how we’re all one, how we’re all connected, and how this is all perfect. And instead, what is being called for is going into the human form, into the body, into the muck and the yuck, down and into. And “down and into” is sometimes scared, and scary.


I’m riding the edge of a being a person who is more aware than ever of how I do want to be here, in this body, experiencing whatever it is that I’m ACTUALLY experiencing. And I continue to have subtle thoughts arise of wanting to get away/escape and of wanting/trying to be/feel/want something/someone to be different. I am getting to experience all of that, in ways I never have before, or wanted to before. There is something about all of this that feels more human than ever, in all of the “best and worst” ways- but that underneath the labels of good and bad is ultimately expansive, present and fully available. It feels like a calling home, to come home at last. It still feels scary a lot, sometimes amazingly playful, and other times it feels scary AND playful. Wow!!!!!!


I read through all I’ve written and how serious I’ve made it, how serious it feels at times. And I’m reminded how none of it is actually serious, and none of it actually matters, and as my friend Caity says, “Either way, you get what you need.” But that feels like a post for another day, which may or not be called “EmbodiWHAT?!?!?”. This post is how transparency and vulnerability are having their way with me today.

Opening up to the World

I just got news that Kathrynn hadn’t gotten the role of young Cosette in the local prouction of Les Miz.  I stopped what I was doing and lay down on my bed.   I was experiencing a lot of different thoughts and sensations and was trying to notice them as they popped. I felt sensations across my chest. Sadness. Tears rolled down my cheeks.  The words that came were, ”I shouldn’t have gotten so hopeful” (i.e., I should be different).

I was shocked to hear those words. The first response wa,s  “OMG nooooooooo,  it’s *ok* that I was hopeful!!!!  Please let it be ok to be hopeful!”  In a flash I felt and leaned into the invitation to experience the vast richness of life in all its facets: pain, joy, tears, laughter, confusion, uncertainty, certainty.

Then my mind bulldozed past that to the inclination to agree with the previous words. Yes! I should not have gotten hopeful! SEEEEE! See what happens when you get hopeful? You get disappointed. And sad. And uncomfortable. A-ha!!!  PROOF that I shouldn’t have gotten hopeful.

And then more sadness came as I realized that what I was experiencing had nothing to do with Kathrynn getting the part, and that “the proof” was nothing more than another attempt to keep me isolated and separate from the experience of living as a human being who feels lots of different things. Waves of flashbacks/memories then popped— times where I had tried to play it safe so as to not be hurt or disappointed, and to not hurt or disappoint others.  Futile attempts at “being safe”, and in doing so birthing massive beliefs that I had to hide and dumb down; from myself as well as from others. All were attempts to keep myself from feelings, which at some point I had labeled as uncomfortable and/or bad and/or “me.”



So there I was, tears rolling down my cheeks, a sensation in my chest, and sadness. As I let it all be there, as it *was* all there, what was the problem?  The mind rallies around evading discomfort/emotions/the ever changing nature of life, and creates ways to strategically avoid feeling out of control. Oddly enough, as I sat in those raw sensations and feelings, the mind slowed down and I no longer experienced a turning away. The stories and thoughts fell away and I could no longer find a problem or a belief that I should be different, there in that moment. “The wave” of emotion rolled in so quickly, and after the height of fear and sadness capped, it rolled away just as fast.

I am left with immense curiosity. Oh, so intensity can’t kill me??!?!? It’s as if the world is opening up. Or am I opening up to the world?