Being Human is Some Wacky Shit!

(cursing apologies—couldn’t help it)

Right?  

How is your humanity unfolding these days, anyway?

Mine is finding her way, thank you very much, almost in spite of me.

In spite of me and because of me, I am moving forward.

Whose idea was this, this human/and/divine/wrapped/in/a/body/paradigm?  

Think about this; the wisdom traditions tell us that our innate condition is an ultimate and effortless balance between body, mind, and spirit.  We are a temple of divinity; we are already home. That is our true nature, connected to All. Finished. Done. Completed. Our minds and our bodies are there to house, to support, to collaborate with that energy of Grace.  Sounds good, right?

However (here comes the human dilemma, folks!), our minds simply get out of balance.  They take over. Period. We give the car keys to our wild minds, to drive us, careening through life, screeching our way along highways and byways of experience.

Our connection to our body becomes a whisper, our connection to our hearts, hardly a murmur.

We barrel through life, divesting partnership with the wisest, the clearest heart and the deepest, the most connected body.  We look to our minds alone. Often, that imbalance causes havoc.

Do you identify with that?  Could we not spend the next month talking about each of our individual and unique havoc-filled-experiences?  Let’s not.

For a thousand reasons, life has requested, at my unlikely age and through the oddest of circumstances, that I listen more carefully to my body and quiet down enough to hear the longing of my heart.  

And everything changed!  Last week’s disorientation has become this week’s reorientation, a shifting of direction, of changing my focus, my direction.  By allowing the breakdown, the disorientation, the renewal emerges.

Which is exactly what I want to talk about:  PERMISSION TO BE HUMAN.

Making our busy minds wrong?  Part of the problem.

Forcing ourselves to change?  Good luck with that.

Trying to override our foibles and quiet them down?  Ha. They will always win, if we fight against them. But, softening into, leaning toward, accepting—that changes everything.

I truly believe that fear is as sacred as faith, and vitally and inevitably essential for the evolution of our faith.

I truly believe that our depression, our heavy-heartedness is as sacred as our vitality, and vitally and inevitably essential for the evolution of that very vitality.

The very things we have been running from are truly the key to more passion, more energy, more possibility.

Springboard Question:

• What are you going to do today, TODAY, perhaps now, RIGHT NOW, to bless yourself with the permission to be human?

Options for Practice:

• Put down whatever you are doing and take in three long breaths of compassion for yourself.
• Hug a dog, a kitty, a person, yourself.  Feel yourself hugging.
• Give yourself the gift of a bath.  Bless your body.
• Walk and move that precious body.  Feel the movement—breath into it.
• Offer yourself gratitude, blessings, a hand on your heart, a breath into your belly.

Dear Friends, nobody is going to train your mind for you but you.  By leaning toward self-compassion, by imagining self-acceptance, by practicing permission to be human, by giving yourself a break, knowing that you are doing as well as you can—everything becomes possible.

All transformation becomes possible.

Please keep in touch, everybody.  I am aruni@rnetworx.com

May your September moment be one of grace and ease.

All blessings,
Aruni

Sometimes the externals must change.

Sometimes it all shifts—it has to.  

The form of what sustained us in the past must morph, must wiggle, must recalibrate itself.

Wiggling becomes mandatory.

Have you ever in your life watched the structure around you disintegrate; the daily schedule, the whereabouts of things, the physical architecture of your life?

How did it feel?

I find myself in that time of forced recalibration.  

The orientation points are all different now.  

I am—disorientated.

And that, in itself, is disorientating.

For reasons beyond the scope of this blog or this blogosphere, I am reporting simply that life as I have known it is in turmoil. There is not enough room on the World Wide Web for me to tell the tale; suffice to say, the structure of my life is tap-dancing its way toward a new rhythm.  No blog could be strong enough could carry that tune, nor could the Broadway play or the NBC series by the same name.

Hence, I am offering you all the condensed version—how to respond to turmoil, upheaval, and the trauma of change, 101.

First let’s consider this word that has been dancing around in my brain; turmoil, a state of great disturbance, confusion, or uncertainty.

That sounds pleasant!

How do we possibly live into the turmoil?

How do we be present with the disruptions, those “where the f___ is my phone” moments?  How do we, as gracefully as possible, keep present?

Here are my riverbanks, into which I choose to swim, as the forms around me seem to be disintegrating.  Here are my suggested guidelines for Times of Disorientation:

• Leave plenty of time for everything, especially driving.
• Drive several clicks BELOW the speed limit.  Receive and surrender to this dare, America.
• Let everybody pass you.  Always.
• Get to all destinations 22 minutes early.
• Do not, I repeat, do not ingest news, any form of news from the dominant culture.  Step away from the radio dial.
• At all intersections, stop, breathe, let everybody else go before you.
• Creep cautiously forward.
• Consistency is your friend!  Eat three meals at—(when?, you might ask).  At mealtime.

Those of us who are so committed to the illusion of control (we know who we are), these times of upheaval are challenging, indeed.  But what if we might imagine that, in the midst of the uncertainty (Where the f___ are my keys?), in the midst of the chaos, in the midst of the transition, there is great stability, ultimate support, and infinite blessing?

Even and especially in the breakdown, do the greatest blessings unfold.  

Letting go of the structure triggers our humanness; it opens the door for great and profound possibility.

Here are my suggested prayers for Times of Uncertainty and Perceived Turmoil:

I pray
For
Courage,
Faith,
And
The
Willingness
To surrender.

I pray
That
The
Highest
May
Unfold
For all.

I pray
That
Hidden
Deeply
Within
This turmoil,
I see
I receive
The jewel,
The
Opportunity
For
Growth
And
Healing.

May it be so.

~~~

Dear Readers, how is September unfolding for you?  What are you noticing? What’s easy? What isn’t? What can you take from this blog to weave into the architecture of your life?  Keep me posted. I am aruni@rnetworx.com

All blessings
From the land of chaos,
From the land of grace,
Aruni

August riles me.  

What about you?

What’s your relationship to late summer?

Early August begins stirring the pot of my anticipatory anxiety, hinting that summer’s demise is sneakily approaching.  Late August triggers my once-a-teacher-always-a-teacher-going- back-to-school-response, which can be summarized in this single vocalization; ghaaaaa.  Toss that August delight called ragweed into the mix and I am a sneezy and headachy mess, never wanting summer to be over while passionately praying for the ragweed-free-first frost and the ease it offers.

Is there a subgroup emerging?

Have you noticed the darker mornings, the evening coming on so much sooner?  

Everybody’s favorite—transition time!

The season shifts as September hovers.

Actually, I do love the Fall.  Being a good New Englander, the crisp days, corduroy jeans, snuggly wool socks, soft sweaters—these are all initially positive things in my world.  How odd these new beginnings emerge out of the dread and inevitability of summer’s loss.

How very odd, transition calls us forth into new beginnings, rooted, always rooted in endings.  What cosmic irony life offers us, time and time again, that, to begin again, we must let go of what is.

Whose idea was that?

William Bridges, author, speaker and organizational consultant describes transitions as a psychological process of adopting to change and divides it into three phases; the letting go of the past, the inhabiting the neutral zone where the past is gone but the present hasn’t fully landed, and the making of a new beginning.

How can we, as mindful people, skillfully navigate through transition, to struggle less, to savor more, and to reap the most positive lessons from change?  Here are some simple guidelines for navigating transition with mindfulness:

• Letting go of the past

Staying as present as you can with what is, as best you can.
Noticing the different iterations of change.
Filling yourself with breath, as feelings arise.

• Relaxing into the neutral zone between the past and the new present

Letting go of the old trapeze bar, softening into the void.
Utilizing self-care to maximize your connection to the flow state.
Drawing on spiritual support—prayer, mantra, yoga, practice, watching, breathing.  Whatever.

• Forging the new beginning

Putting one foot down at a time, heading toward the next best, thing to do
Partnering with life as you follow the signs it offers, taking collaborative action with it

And so we practice; we don’t get it right, we allow ourselves full permission to be human, to notice and to lean away from self-judgment.

And so—

We practice.

I sit as the morning light approaches so much more quietly, with a delayed enthusiasm in the creation of this new September day.

I sit as the morning light shifts, as the birds come and go in different patterns, as the wild geese soar with more intention, higher in the sky.

I sit, as best as I can, and pray that my life, that our lives unfold with grace and ease, guided by our hearts’ intentions.

I sit, as I hear the deep, silent whisper of this 12 Step prayer.  From my heart to yours, I offer it to you, as August leaves us, as September lands quietly.

 

Dear Reader-Folk, what change is coming toward you?  In the book, Warriors of the Heart, Danaan Parry says change, “…is my next step, my growth, my aliveness coming to get me.”  What is coming to get you?  What aliveness is calling your name?  Please keep me posted. I am aruni@rnetworx.com.

All blessings,
Aruni

 

A memory floods me.

I am standing in the gym of the Jewish Community Center in Scranton, Pa. There are boys and girls playing baseball and I am one of them. I don’t know why I am here; I have no memory of ever being here again. Awkward with the others, uber-uncomfortable with the place, I nevertheless stand so settled into the moment.

I stand guarding first base with an ease beyond my ten-year-old’s experience in either mind or body.

First base.  

I know first base.

I know this deeply.

I don’t know how I know it—why I know it—who might have taught me to know it.

None of that matters.

Then it all happens quickly.  

The batter hits the ball.  

I still hear the crack against the bat, announcing its powerful ascent.  

The ball flies toward me and in a sliver of a second and smack/burn-without-thinking-without-knowing -without-doubting- without-even-seeing, I receive the burning flame of a ball as it flows into me……………….

and with an ancient knowing, I continue that flow of energy without interruption and perfectly pitch the ball across the court to the 3rd base person, who receives it effortlessly.

Double-play, the gym teacher shouts into the echo-chamber of the gym.

Three out!  Sides retired.

I can still see his face.  

He looks at me, with shock.

Mr.  S_____.  

Can’t remember his name, but I remember he wasn’t Jewish.  (That was a big distinction then—who is, and who isn’t Jewish, a compass to navigate my world.)

I never will forget his look, his ultimate surprise, at my ability.

And I never have played baseball again.

The thrill of that day frightens me.

I hide my freedom, I hide my knowing the flow state so deeply.

I hide his acknowledgment deeply beneath layers of shame in my little girl body.  
Somehow, I know I cannot, I should not, be this free.

Somebody will find out.

Find out what?  That I dream of girls, of kissing, of touching?

That I’m afraid and alone?

I don’t know.

But I do know—

I should not, I cannot feel this good.

I should not, I cannot be this connected.

How open I was as a kid to that flow state, a little jock deeply living inside, waiting to explode into play.  My Girl Scout Camp saved me; there my embodied little girl self was fully invited, fully encouraged, and so fully celebrated.

Yet, then what?  Any attempt at sports or physical play into adulthood, and there were few, didn’t stick with me.  For those of us women of pre-Title IX generation, few opportunities existed for us to find ourselves within a team, with others, moving and playing.

Here’s a depressing statistic: The Huffington Post UK (8/15) tells us that girls become self-conscious and stop playing sports as young as seven years old. Through “loss of confidence and the fear of being judged”, they opt out. How heart-breaking. This is exactly what happened to me.

I was terrified of being judged, even though I was judged positively!

Even that was too much to abide.

The little girl inside of me truly was denied the structure of sport and play, which might have offered release, solace and flow.

Today, a thousand years later, I think of this child, this little Nan, so eager to play, so beyond-fluid in movement.

I want her back.

I commit to that child.

I commit to her playfulness.

To the perfection of her movement.

To the delight of her body.

I commit to finding ways to play, from inside out.

I commit to liberating her from her ancient and frozen shame.

I commit to moving into September with this child reunited.

I commit to creating ways to move and play that bring ease and celebration.

I don’t know what they are quite yet.

Nevertheless, I choose her.

I choose her freedom.

I choose her expression.

I choose her love.

And dear reader, what about you?  Any childhood memories of play or sport? Any ideas for September? Let’s move into this next month with our bodies ready for the joy of movement. What might that look like for you? Please keep me posted. As always, I am aruni@rnetworx.com

All blessings,
Aruni