dis-illusion
Tuesday 03 Jan 2012 04:22 AM
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At breakfast on new year's day, one of my friends told me i was her "practice guru". she had read my "practice practice practice" post in here, marveled at my discipline and wondered if she, too, might ever reach my lofty heights. I had to put her straight. That was then, and this is now. I haven't done that practice regime for, like, 3 or 4 weeks now. This is entirely typical of the jeanious and I'm writing today really to put this straight to anyone who might think like my friend did. yes, I do have times where I am really "good" and do my practice regular as clockwork. then, for some reason, usually an interruption in my routine caused by travel, and/or being on a really intense workshop with long hours or something, I stop doing it for a while. Inertia sets in and it will take a while for me to get back into the flow of it. And then it will usually be something different.
I am now officially beyond giving myself a hard time for this! doing practice is its own reward. not doing it is its own punishment. no need to add insult to injury by feeling bad about it! and if I'm in a phase of regular practice, no need to spoil it by feeling self important.
Funny the things that stick in my mind. I remember many years ago, being deeply impacted by something a teacher said. This was (and remains) a person I had masses of respect for. In a circle of students, this teacher said: "I am the most fucked up person that I know". That was a moment of wonderful dis-illusion for me and my world turned upside down ... in a good way! Since then, I find I don't trust anybody who would not be able to say the same thing about him or herself. And, I hope, say it with a smile and a twinkle in the eye!
Dance to digest the miasma of misery
Tuesday 22 Nov 2011 02:23 PM
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Digesting the miasma of misery
Reflecting more on what I wrote earlier today, I see that the state I described of doom, despair and paranoia is like a creature, a shadow, that attached itself to me.
Memories:
One day as a child I walked down the road and saw my mother approaching from the distance, carrying shopping. To my clear child’s eyes, she looked unhappy. I could see the thoughts like a cloud around her head. I could see the conversation of internal dialogue moving across her face, even at a great distance. When I finally reached her, I asked her what was wrong. “Nothing’s wrong” she said. “Why do you ask?” “Well, you just looked so unhappy just now” “Oh, that’s just my face” she said. “I’ve got the kind of face, that if I’m not actually smiling, I look unhappy”
That confused me and caused me to lose trust in my intuition and ability to see. Because naturally, I believed my mum. But what she said did not tally with what I had seen.
Another day, many years later. I have recently returned from a month in Guatemala. I am in London, shopping in a supermarket. The people seem to move around like ghosts, lost in their heads. After the bright clear colours of central America, and the barefoot people who would look you directly in the face, where everyone seemed to be in focus, here were people lost in some floating, disembodied dream, absently searching the shelves for something to eat. In Guatemala I ate the same simple, delicious food every day, never tiring of it. Back in London, what I saw was shocking.
Another day, today. I’m on the tube in London and it’s rush hour. I’m looking closely at people’s faces. On some of the people around my age, I’m seeing the shapes and textures of worried, anxious, bitter faces. I know that I am one of them and I, too can look like this. I also know that if they were to smile or laugh, these features and textures would disappear and their light and beauty would shine through. I decide that I will make a point of catching the occasional person’s eyes and smiling, to see what happens. I know from my own experience of misery the power of a simple smile.
What I think:
There is a miasma of misery in our culture. There is a shadowy cloud of undigested disappointment in the air. There is anxiety, resignation, resentment, hurt, and a whole lot more, and it’s visible on our faces and the way we hold our bodies. I think some of it is personal to us and also think some of it is not personal; it’s there, like an option in the space. It might be left from our ancestors. I know when I feel it, it takes a lot of presence, sobriety or desperation (! see what I said about 6 o’clock this morning!) to realize what is going on and determine to do something about it.
In 5 Rhythms practice, we say yes to whatever is in the moment and put it into motion. The 5 Rhythms are an alchemical formula that can digest this shadowy gunk. They are healing medicine for the individual and the collective. These miasmas are real. They form the shadow mind and will eat us up if we give in to them. Our power lies in our courage and determination to include their energy in our dance, to eat instead of being eaten. As we dance with the discomfort, making it our discipline to keep moving, stay with the physical experience and out of the stories, we can breathe life into the whole thing and find ourselves invigorated and enlivened. Part of the Solution!
Let’s do it, let’s dance! In celebration of the people! In celebration of life!
Reflecting more on what I wrote earlier today, I see that the state I described of doom, despair and paranoia is like a creature, a shadow, that attached itself to me.
Memories:
One day as a child I walked down the road and saw my mother approaching from the distance, carrying shopping. To my clear child’s eyes, she looked unhappy. I could see the thoughts like a cloud around her head. I could see the conversation of internal dialogue moving across her face, even at a great distance. When I finally reached her, I asked her what was wrong. “Nothing’s wrong” she said. “Why do you ask?” “Well, you just looked so unhappy just now” “Oh, that’s just my face” she said. “I’ve got the kind of face, that if I’m not actually smiling, I look unhappy”
That confused me and caused me to lose trust in my intuition and ability to see. Because naturally, I believed my mum. But what she said did not tally with what I had seen.
Another day, many years later. I have recently returned from a month in Guatemala. I am in London, shopping in a supermarket. The people seem to move around like ghosts, lost in their heads. After the bright clear colours of central America, and the barefoot people who would look you directly in the face, where everyone seemed to be in focus, here were people lost in some floating, disembodied dream, absently searching the shelves for something to eat. In Guatemala I ate the same simple, delicious food every day, never tiring of it. Back in London, what I saw was shocking.
Another day, today. I’m on the tube in London and it’s rush hour. I’m looking closely at people’s faces. On some of the people around my age, I’m seeing the shapes and textures of worried, anxious, bitter faces. I know that I am one of them and I, too can look like this. I also know that if they were to smile or laugh, these features and textures would disappear and their light and beauty would shine through. I decide that I will make a point of catching the occasional person’s eyes and smiling, to see what happens. I know from my own experience of misery the power of a simple smile.
What I think:
There is a miasma of misery in our culture. There is a shadowy cloud of undigested disappointment in the air. There is anxiety, resignation, resentment, hurt, and a whole lot more, and it’s visible on our faces and the way we hold our bodies. I think some of it is personal to us and also think some of it is not personal; it’s there, like an option in the space. It might be left from our ancestors. I know when I feel it, it takes a lot of presence, sobriety or desperation (! see what I said about 6 o’clock this morning!) to realize what is going on and determine to do something about it.
In 5 Rhythms practice, we say yes to whatever is in the moment and put it into motion. The 5 Rhythms are an alchemical formula that can digest this shadowy gunk. They are healing medicine for the individual and the collective. These miasmas are real. They form the shadow mind and will eat us up if we give in to them. Our power lies in our courage and determination to include their energy in our dance, to eat instead of being eaten. As we dance with the discomfort, making it our discipline to keep moving, stay with the physical experience and out of the stories, we can breathe life into the whole thing and find ourselves invigorated and enlivened. Part of the Solution!
Let’s do it, let’s dance! In celebration of the people! In celebration of life!
