Taking responsibility for my thoughts

and the power of letting go (audio embedded)

I struggle with self-discipline and willpower. Not in phyiscal ways — I can consistently rise before dawn every morning to practice my non-negotiable routines of reading, journaling, ACA meetings, sometimes meditation, coffee sipping, incense burning, and yoga, but I can’t consistently refuse to deny myself the gratification of wallowing in negative thoughts — specifically those that keep me in fear and/or bolster my feelings of loss and victimization.

Why do I commit myself to the motions but not to the essence of what those motions are all about, which is finding peace? Why do I seek, in my thoughts, what is destablizing instead of what isn’t?

I know the answer is that I am human, and also that I am a human who has been through a lot. My therapist says its because I’m always trying to prove that I don’t need anyone or anything — first to myself, then to the world, and I get mad at myself when that ends up not being true and act accordingly. I’ve got some deep ruts. And I get regularly frustrated at my inability to guide my thoughts out of them and toward what is positive and true. I get caught up in cycles of thought that seem to exist only to exacerbate the unlovable feelings, those that tell me I don’t matter — whatever I can come up with to pick at my abandonment wounds. I think my therapist (the best one I’ve ever had) is right. I suppose at the bottom of it all might be ego — if my mind weren’t on myself to begin with then I might have an easier time imagining the reality that I am not, in fact, the center of the universe for anyone but myself, and I’d quit testing the waters to see if I am.

Some days I forget my good habits — and that includes the one I try to cultivate of reworking negative thinking and turning the thought into something good. I do remember it on my good days, but not every day is a good one. The critical voice still wins on more of them than I’d like. My intentions get busted in the face — perfectionism rages and does it ever hate a failure. Resentments rise up and seep out all over everything. And there I find my ego yet again — I have, or it has somehow not been heard or seen in the way that it thinks it needs to be. It doesn’t feel good to realize that, but I’m afraid it’s true. Then, along comes more unworthiness (for having the ego) and the cycle gets deeper. Somatic responses get triggered and I’m simply lost to it. Then I have to begin the process of digging out.

I’m tired of analyzing all of that, to be honest. I don’t at all doubt that I have a lengthy list of symptoms and behaviors and I know a lot about how they developed. But the point of all the work is to change it, not just recognize and allow it, right? The point is that living in such a reactive way is exhausting and disruptive, and I’m trying to find a better, more dignified route to take through my days. I want to discover new, truer beliefs — beliefs that are centered in my reality and not my past, even if my past was just yesterday or last week.

It’s a cliche at this point, but it’s all in my head — the beginning, middle, and end are all creations of my experience. I sometimes can’t believe what my gripping, clinging, monkey mind will do to never be still but instead constantly reference, checking my list of temporary feelings against my list of permanent injuries to assign what goes with what. It’s a messed up system that is not at all accurate. That post I wrote a while ago called “Quit Touching That,” just came to my mind. That was February 9. Have I made any progress since then? Maybe. But am I still addicted to my wounds? Of course, I am. None of life is linear. My desire for a beginner’s mind stays out of reach. Another frustration — I like it most when things line up and make sense.

But here is what I’ve found this morning — it is time to use my creativity for my own benefit and get over that need for things to fit together. I actually do have the power to create any reality I want, and to heal myself from the sickness of dragging around old and useless information that brings me pain. I’ve traveled far enough on this road to be able to understand that, but I guess not far enough to live it. All I can do is keep walking. I have faith that if I do, I will eventually come upon a safe place. It’s within me, and I will find it when I no longer look outside.

Getting to that place involves a lot of things. Things I don’t yet understand. Things that will only be revealed to me when it is time for me to see them. I imagine a pathway that is lit on either side, but the lights turn on one at the time, each responding to my foot when it gets near and not before — I only see what I need to see, not what is down at the end of the pathway. I only get the light if I take the step, and so on. Sounds like how faith works — you have to have it to get it.

When I don’t trust my experience, when I don’t have faith, I cling to negative and isolating thoughts trying to prevent feeling things I’ve actually already felt and am only afraid of feeling again, and then I spiral. It’s inevitable and predicatable. I get hung up when I can’t let go.

I get hung up when I can’t let go.

I think that’s a good phrase to end with. I want to think about it.

But I’ll share with you one more quick thing: Sometime last fall, I finally accomplished crow pose. I had always struggled with arm balances, and felt a lot of fear when I’d try to lift my feet off the ground. Well, one morning I was deep into my practice, and that particular day I’d imagined my father practicing alongside me, I guess as a possible way into healing some of the energy that surrounds our spirits — I needed to see him whole. I dressed him in a white robe, gave him a long white beard, and removed the film of addiction that I remember him having away from his bright, blue eyes — they sparkled as I imagined him. As I readied myself to attempt crow, all of a sudden his spirit whispered behind my right ear, “Let go.” And up into the pose I went. I freed my mind and my feet followed.

Yep, gotta keep walking. I think I know the way. Today, I will remember to practice letting go — after all, that in itself is another pose I need to accomplish, but on a deeper level, simply a way of being, and the only thing that will get me to that safe place, because it’s what the safe place is. I guess it’s a “wherever you go there you are,” kind of thing. I pray for stamina, for patience, for guidance, for forgiveness, for love, and maybe a whisper behind my right ear now and then. I seek simultaneous acceptance of and solace on my lighted path. I think I’ll go love myself all the way through this, listen to some Ram Dass,

and paint.

I hope you all are well today.

Peace and love to all,

Allison

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