Trusting the momentum while tuning into the deepest part of your vibrational being is guidance in itself. I felt a strong energetic momentum when I started practicing yoga. I don’t remember the exact moment when I decided to sign up for a beginner yoga class. I know that at that time it was out of my comfort zone to do so but I had a hunch that it was something that would be useful to me. I sought healing. I was in deep suffering and there seemed to be a current of toxicity coursing right under the surface of every good thing that I tried to manifest in my life. I had pain associated with conflict with my roots, and it reflected itself in my most intimate relationships. Feelings of loss and despair for not feeling like I truly belonged anywhere, not feeling understood, not feeling accepted, not feeling loved unconditionally, had caused me to be jealous, codependent, distrusting, paranoid. Some part of me had had enough, and had started to recognize my own responsibility in my need for codependency and jealousy. I realized that it was a good time in my life to go ahead and dive deeper into the causes of that, study what had conditioned me to behave in this way, to stay in addiction to my misery and blame. This is when I think healing began to unlock for me, after some years of stagnancy and a little bumbling in various directions of numbing behavior. Two tools that I felt I was magically or divinely led to with this stroke of insight into my own needs was the book, Codependent No More, by Melody Beattie, and my beginners yoga class. The book taught me how I could shift the focus in problematic areas in my relationships and heal myself, rather than attempt to heal others first. Yoga improved my sense of well being. I noticed improvement in my relationships with others. I felt a renewed connection to my body. I experienced a renewed sense of the deep inner connection that I had always felt with Spirit. I slept better. I drank less alcohol. I started to chip away at the pain and suffering and resentment that had built up unnoticed, as those things had become deeply ingrained in my psyche after years of not understanding where my wounds came from, not understanding where my responsibility lie. I had just been trying to survive up unto that point. The book and the yoga practice were tools that I could realistically hold, and start to wield a better way to move through the world. A better way to exist in the world. These two tools were my jumping off point to a healthier way of life, for moving through the muck and the mud of my psyche more effectively, more diligently.
So that when I was diagnosed with cancer, I was grateful to have already incorporated yoga as a tool. I had been practicing seriously for about 2 years by this time. Meditation was already incorporated into my practice as well. Some of the yogic principles were already habit to me and I felt like it provided me a grounding source to tap into as I dove into a pretty scary time, a time of uncertainty, of a heightened awareness of mortality.
Even with the tools at hand, which greatly impacted how I was able to cope with my illness, doubt inevitably crept in. Even though I had been practicing yoga and nurturing my mind body connection, and even though I had been eating pretty healthy and all, I still got cancer. There was a part of me that did not understand how this could have happened, because I thought I had been doing the right things, and cancer seemed like a shitty reward. But there was a part of me that was sure that I had caused this disease in my body. Shame crept in. I thought I might have caused my cancer because I wallowed in so much grief and self pity. I caused my cancer because, in my early 20s, I did drugs to numb my pain, I had put terrible chemicals into my body to feel like I was fitting into a community, needing a family, wanting desperately a home. I caused my cancer because I drank too much, because I didn’t care for myself well, all those years before my yoga practice became an integral part of my life, and then I found the lump. Reckoning these things was a part of my experience. Acknowledging it was an important step. But in order to manage the harrowing treatment prescribed for my illness, I could not afford to wallow in the grief of my shame. It had to be put aside for later, when I could take each bit of shame from it’s box, dust it off. In this way I have learned to apply the the art of sinking into the discomfort, instead of avoiding it. In this way I reckon with the seeds that planted my shame. I allow myself forgiveness, and further my understanding of the human condition. With this practice I reach the understanding, over and over again, that I was always just doing the best that I could.
So, when I say to trust the momentum when you feel a surge of interest in a certain direction of self discovery, it is because I believe that there are many tools to find it, and Spirit will guide you in the direction that works for you. In the beginning of my healing journey I did not know that I would think back on that time of beginning yoga and reading a self help book as an important jumping off point to a more satisfying relationship to self. Finding a framework in which to feel into the body, dive into the soul, dive into the darkest parts of the mind, with tools at hand, readily available to apply to the painful aspects of it, was for me, the most important key to unlocking necessary healing. My practice provided a safe space within where I could face the scariest, the most painful, the most shameful things that I carried around with me, work with them, and understand myself better. Over time, that practice has led me to more tools. When I lean into the momentum of Spirit working in my life, wanting to show me something, teach me something, it strengthens my foundation of inner strength. The more I lean in and listen, the more I trust the momentum, the more synchronicities show up in my life. My practice is no longer an aspect of my life, it is all encompassing in the way I move through it. It is no longer just a yoga class. It is in the way I put on my make-up and dress myself. It is in the way I choose my breakfast. It is in the way I schedule my time. It is in the way I spend my money, and the way I save it too. It is in the way I talk to my clients. It is in the way I commune with my plants and the animals that I live with. It is in the way I notice the sky and its colors. It is in the way that I take my shoes off and put my bare feet in the Earth. It is in the way I light a candle and take a bath. It is in the way I take a breath when I am having an argument. It is in the way I acknowledge and accept the despair and the anguish that still lives in the tissues of my physical body. It is in the way I give myself permission to wail and cry and scream and dance in the most primal of ways. It is in the way I write down my dreams. It is in the way I say yes when I know that even though it makes me uncomfortable, it is an opportunity to grow. It is in the way that I say no when I would really like the distraction but I need to handle what is happening within instead. It is in the way I talk to my inner child, how I spend time with her, how I love her, how I honor her. It is in the way I stumble and fuck up and then beat myself up and then gently guide myself into the arms of remembrance. Remembrance that I am part of something bigger. That I am love. That I am connected. That all the tools are within me, and all I have to do is listen.