“Try not to resist the changes that come your way. Instead let life live through you. And do not worry that your life is turning upside down. How do you know that the side you are used to is better than the one to come?” ~Rumi
As another year comes to a close, I am astounded that I’m still standing.
So many times I have been knocked down and struggled to get up. So many times I wanted to just give up. So many sleepless nights fraught with anxiety and rage. So many fantasies about eternal sleep.
Then I am gifted with a powerful message from the Great Sphinx of Giza. I am called to her… to lay my hands on her and receive her ancient wisdom….
“REMEMBER WHO YOU ARE. When you remember how powerful and precious you are, there is nothing to fear. When you remember your divinity, all feelings of not being good enough, of not being worthy of love will fall away. Stand strong in truth & integrity and know that you are loved, protected and valued beyond measure.”
As I received these words, I broke down and sobbed. I cried for my younger self who endured so much suffering at the hands of others. I cried for all the abuse I inflicted on myself because of the very wrong ideas that sprang from this suffering that told me I am unworthy of love.
I cried for all the years I spent hustling for my worth in doing, doing, doing trying to prove I had value at the expense of my physical and emotional health.
Those lost to their own sense of worth will never see it in another, so spending my life trying to seek that validation from others was a fool’s errand. Our value is inherent…. The choice to hand that power over to another wounded soul seems silly to me now. How lost and misguided I was.
Now is the time for reclamation.
As I reflect on my recent experiences in Egypt, I am profoundly grateful for the powerful message from the Sphinx and the call to courage bestowed upon me.
I am exhausted and overwhelmed but I am clear on my mission and trust that I am fully supported and capable of navigating whatever challenges come my way.
I leave you with these words:
“Go at it boldly, and you’ll find unexpected forces closing round you and coming to your aid.”
The past few birthdays have brought a reckoning for me.
I’m usually found crying, raging, or both. Each year I fall into a pit of despair and self pity. And then an epic existential crisis unfolds….
Why am I here?
What is the point of it all?
What have I accomplished that has any real value?
Am I truly loved?
How can I truly love others if I don’t love myself?
Did I fail as a mother, a wife, a friend?
Did I take more than I gave?
Did I sacrifice too much for safety and security?
Did I waste my life by not following my own dreams?
And on and on it goes….
But these breakdowns always precede the breakthroughs.
When I feel my heart breaking, I lean in and then pivot.
I allow my heart to break… wide open.
Now is the time for courage…
For releasing the false truths that bind me to suffering….
For trust.
For dreams to unfold.
No more shame inducing toxic positivity.
No more ego driven pursuits.
No more resistance to vulnerability.
No more meeting bitterness with bitterness.
In hating my enemy, I have become my own worst enemy.
I will stand up for truth and honour… WITH truth and honour.
I will not be reduced by the ancient storylines of trauma, my own or another’s.
I will feel all the feels and express them openly and unapologetically.
I’m no longer interested in false bravado for image’s sake.
My strength and resilience are the truest gifts of suffering.
My strife has been my greatest ally….
A faithful servant no matter how much I rage against it.
I am in the arena getting my ass kicked.
That is what I signed up for in this life.
I chose the path of the warrior.
Some days I quiver and fall apart, but I always get back up and get back in the arena.
Why? Well… this quote by Brene Brown says it best….
“I want to be in the arena. I want to be brave with my life. And when we make the choice to dare greatly, we sign up to get our asses kicked.
We can choose courage or we can choose comfort, but we can’t have both. Not at the same time.
Vulnerability is not winning or losing; it’s having the courage to show up and be seen when we have no control over the outcome.
Vulnerability is not weakness; it’s our greatest measure of courage.
A lot of cheap seats in the arena are filled with people who never venture onto the floor. They just hurl mean-spirited criticisms and put-downs from a safe distance.
The problem is, when we stop caring what people think and stop feeling hurt by cruelty, we lose our ability to connect. But when we’re defined by what people think, we lose the courage to be vulnerable. Therefore, we need to be selective about the feedback we let into our lives.
For me, if you’re not in the arena getting your ass kicked, I’m not interested in your feedback.”
Today I was despairing over the realisation that forgiving someone, whose continuing actions of general douchebaggery knows no bounds, was simply outside my wheelhouse.
I was then reminded by my gorgeous and very wise sister, Lisa, that perhaps the work is to forgive myself.
Truth bomb! 💣
Of course this needs to come first. If I can’t do this for myself, there is no way I can forgive anyone else.
I must find a way to forgive myself for the part I played in this clusterfu€k of a situation.
For my wilful ignorance… For giving away my power… For trusting someone who is simply untrustworthy… For ignoring all the red flags because they got in the way of what I wanted… For selling my soul for a false sense of security and the illusion of stable ground under my feet… For choosing ease and comfort over courage.
And in the spirit of full transparency, I admit that my fu€king ego liked the status and luxury this new life afforded me.
I was sick of the hustle and the struggle. So I made what I thought was the “safe” choice over the many braver choices available to me.
I could never regret the choice I made, however, as it brought two extraordinary humans into the world that I love and treasure more than life itself.
But the reckoning has come. It’s time to take this sword away that consistently hangs over my head by finding the courage to face the truth that I chickened out.
That I clung to all the carefully constructed lies he told because it was easier than facing the truth, which would’ve required me to leave much sooner than I did.
Instead I chose a superficial life over a more authentic and connected one.
I chose quantity over quality.
So… where to from here?
I guess this public confession is as good a place to start as any.
I know that shame can only live in darkness, in secrecy, so saying it out loud is the most potent medicine I can apply to the oozing wound of distain that has been festering in my heart these past too many years.
They say resentment is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die. Insanity at its finest!
So there it is. My shame, my sadness, my intense desire to release all the cords of disappointment and betrayal that keep me psychically tied to this poisonous union.
One day soon, I hope that I will find forgiveness in my heart so that I can set myself free.
Only I hold the keys to my liberation.
I once chose the gilded cage and now it is time to choose freedom. To choose trust over fear, courage over comfort, forgiveness over judgement.
All alone with my shadow For far too long I have been swallowed up Only my shadow remains Empty shoes where I used to stand A formless fraud Pretending myself into being Laughing, crying, raging Anything to feel alive So so tired now Yet unable to find solace in sleep Peace evades me I keep getting back up After each knock down I can’t seem to help it My longing for love is greater than my sorrow The seductive void calls to me Trust, trust, trust… My mantra Will the light return? Or have I finally been extinguished? Sweet surrender is where I’ll find my bliss.
“Sorrow prepares you for joy. It violently sweeps everything out of your house, so that new joy can find space to enter. It shakes the yellow leaves from the bough of your heart, so that fresh, green leaves can grow in their place. It pulls up the rotten roots, so that new roots hidden beneath have room to grow. Whatever sorrow shakes from your heart, far better things will take their place.” ― Rumi
“We focus too much on the ones that turned their backs and not enough on the few that have our backs.” ~Liz Faublas
For the past 27+ years, I’ve been on an intense journey of discovery and healing. I’ve done (and continue to do) it all….. the 12 Steps, therapy, workshops, retreats, seminars, conferences, academic study, Buddhist study, research, tons and tons of reading, extensive travel, breath work, meditation, yoga, etc., etc…..
What I was hoping to achieve in all these pursuits was to heal ancient wounds, discover my divine purpose, expand my wisdom and knowledge, connect with my soul tribe, and uncover my true essence lying just below the surface of all the wrong ideas I had about myself taught to me by my ancestors, my culture and my community.
Throughout this journey, I’ve been challenged to grow, no matter how hard, painful, scary and overwhelming it was. I rose to every challenge and learned just how incredibly brave I am. I discovered a source of strength I would have never known existed had I not been forced to pull it out in an effort to survive.
For most of this year I’ve been in my own bubble of isolation. There was a serious disconnect between my inner wisdom and how I’ve been living my life. I struggled to figure out where the discrepancies lay. I was talking the talk but not walking the walk. I felt like a sham, faking my way through each miserable day. I knew under my desperate attempt to convince myself that my life was fine as it is, I was not showing up authentically and with vulnerability. I had created a hard shell around my protective bubble. What was the perceived threat? Could I face it, even if it meant the threat was coming from within? Could I listen to the inner voice that was trying so hard to tell me what was calling to me?
No! Too scary to even contemplate. So I kept myself busy and distracted. I dove into the more comfortable and familiar tasks and activities that didn’t ask too much of me, or negate the narrative I was clinging too. Until yesterday…
Yesterday, something happened that forced me out of my hiding, my inertia, my denial.
Someone I respected and wanted to believe I could trust weaponised my healing and wisdom journey and took aim right for my heart. The pain of that realisation was the fiercest I’ve ever experienced. To say I was devastated is an understatement. It was a violation so pure in its intensity, I thought I might die.
But then, like the Phoenix, the warrior in me rose to reclaim my truth, which shot through me like a lightening bolt! Their egregious tactical error was in trying to reframe my greatest strength, my superpower, into a weakness. Despite all my insecurities and self-doubt, I’ve always known I possess an indefatigable source of power…. enormous courage.
I will no longer hold the narrative that I’m broken, damaged, weak. It was an easy storyline to attempt to manipulate me with since it is an all too familiar one that I’ve believed my entire life. But to have it aimed at me like a weapon jolted me out of this slumber of depression that I had curled up with like a cozy blanket.
I am now wide awake and clear as crystal about who I am and what I’ve come here to do. My mission is clear. I am to continue on my journey of authentic self discovery and hold my truth with courage, and then to share the jewels of wisdom that reveal themselves with all who seek them.
It’s encouraging to finally start really seeing the benefits of all the amazing work I’ve done over the past (nearly) 3 decades that is really showing up and supporting me in this moment of clarity. I can see now that I was seeking this stable and unfailing strength and support from others who are stumbling through this thing called life just as clumsily as I am.
So, I want to thank you for showing me where I was stuck and for, once again, reminding me that I don’t need a hero.
“Right now, me saying “white people,” as if our race had meaning, and as if I could know anything about somebody just because they’re white, will cause a lot of white people to erupt in defensiveness. And I think of it as a kind of weaponized defensiveness. Weaponized tears. Weaponized hurt feelings. And in that way, I think white fragility actually functions as a kind of white racial bullying.” ~ Robin DiAngelo
Over the past 3 weeks, since the murder of George Floyd in the U.S., and the ensuing protests, I’ve been hugely disappointed at the level of my own ignorance on issues regarding racism, white privilege and bigotry in all its forms. The hundreds of stories of violence against black, indigenous and all people of colour (BIPOC), both in America and all over the world, have mostly sat on the outer fringes of my consciousness. I admit it took global protests to really capture my undivided attention (a perfect example of white privilege, as only someone not subjected to consistent violence/threats of violence and discrimination could be allowed to ignore its continued existence). Before that, I only knew basic “white-washed” history of slavery, apartheid, and the Civil Rights movement of the 60’s, along with the odd news stories of police brutality against BIPOC, such as the Rodney King beating in 1991.
I lived in West Hollywood at the time of the 1992 riots sparked by the acquittal of the cops involved in the Rodney King case, which was likely the main reason I was so aware of the story. I was living with my fiancé and his roommate at the time and I remember aggressively attempting to dissuade them from leaving the house during the riots because I knew damn well they were at a significantly higher risk of being assaulted and/or arrested by the police just for being black as compared to their white counterparts. So obviously, not too deep in my consciousness I was aware of racial profiling by the police.
I admit, I generally avoid the news as I find most of it sensationalised “info-tainment” designed to stir up negative emotions and cause divisive reactions as this is what sells. The media cannot be trusted to present unbiased, neutral facts. And with so much information swirling around to such a dizzying degree, it’s nearly impossible to determine fact from fiction, which I’m sure is part of the grand plan. Confusion and ignorance perfectly aids in the puppet-masters’ goals of world dominance.
I’ve spent many hours trying to educate myself on racism, white privilege and bigotry so that I may be able to uncover my own racist beliefs and prejudices which lay under my denial. As uncomfortable as this process has been (and I’m only just scratching the surface), I’m determined to overcome my ignorance on these issues and my participation in perpetuating racism and bigotry by remaining silent and not fully addressing my own behaviour and views. I don’t want to be just another fair-weather ally to BIPOC and other marginalised groups by posting the occasional story on Facebook and utilising the trending hashtag de jour. That kind of empty support will not create any real change and only serves to make me feel momentarily better about myself. I can’t be a racist if I support BIPOC, right…? Wrong!
As I continue my research by reading, listening to and watching the stories of racism and bigotry produced by people of all races, identities, cultures, nationalities and religions, I’m more and more being confronted with the question, “In what ways have I behaved in a racist and/or bigoted way and how have I benefitted from white privilege?”
The more research I do, the more I see how white supremacy has completely infiltrated and shaped not only my own attitudes and beliefs but those of all people, including BIPOC. It’s genius “cradle to the grave” conditioning going on in societies all around the world. The more awake I become, the more I am seeing the overt and covert racism and bigotry, along with varying degrees of micro-aggression displayed by so many of my own Facebook “friends” and other people I encounter. It has left me feeling hugely uncomfortable with the part I’ve played in it. Whether I was simply ignorant of the issues and manipulated by mass media reports or because I chose to stay safely silent and on the sidelines, makes no difference. I am still complicit. I can’t claim to be anti-racist or anti-bigoted if I’m not willing to call out racism and bigotry whenever I see it, both in myself and everywhere else.
What I need to really focus on is finding skilful means of calling it out in ways that encourage honest communication, as opposed to shaming others, which only leads to defensiveness and anger. As Brené Brown so aptly says, “The biggest barriers to acknowledgement of privilege [or racism] is shame. You have to reach out with love and curiosity… [but] speak truth to bullshit. Also, be civil when you’re doing it.” I admit that in my reactive state, I have just unfriended those who have posted things that I judge as racist or bigoted. Instead of engaging them in an honest dialog with the desire to create some real understanding between us and to learn another perspective, I’ve chosen the cowardly (and passive-aggressive) approach so as to avoid a potentially ugly conflict. This stops today.
I apologise for the following vocabulary lesson, but since I was mostly unfamiliar with the proper definition of these terms and how I have participated, consciously or unconsciously, in their application, I thought some of you may also be unaware of their definitions.
Covert racism is defined as: “A form of racial discrimination that is disguised and subtle, rather than public or obvious. Concealed in the fabric of society, covert racism discriminates against individuals through often evasive or seemingly passive methods. Covert, racially biased decisions are often hidden or rationalised with an explanation that society is more willing to accept. These racial biases cause a variety of problems that work to empower the suppressors while diminishing the rights and powers of the oppressed. Covert racism often works subliminally, and often much of the discrimination is being done subconsciously. Sometimes, it originates instead in discrimination against poorer segments that simply happens to disproportionately affect individuals by race.”
The definition of micro-aggression is: “A term used for brief and commonplace daily verbal, behavioural, or environmental indignities, whether intentional or unintentional, that communicate hostile, derogatory, or negative prejudicial slights and insults toward any group, particularly culturally marginalized groups.”
I have never considered myself racist or a bigot. I have many friends from all walks of life. I’ve prided myself on being open-minded and non-judgemental of people who come from all different races, religions and cultures. But rather than hide behind this smug attitude, I feel compelled to peel back the layers and look for the truth, however painful this process might be. Rather than tout the ubiquitous attitude of being “colour blind,” I seek to acknowledge and celebrate the differences instead of pretending I don’t notice them. After all, isn’t it our differences that make the world more interesting? How boring it would be if we were all exactly the same…
I want to bring my awareness to where I hold subconscious racist and bigoted views and where my white privilege has benefitted me. “Sit in [my] yuck” as Nicole Cameron says. Let me be clear here, I do not seek your validation of my existence as a non-racist or bigoted person. I truly wish to uncover the nature of my views and where I may have unknowingly caused harm because of them. I don’t wish to burden anyone by asking them to school me on racism and bigotry, however, I do hope that some of you might be willing to take the time to show me what perhaps I can’t see for myself because of my “white veil.” I also hope that any constructive criticism you may wish to offer is done so with the intention to be helpful and a little compassionate. It’s certainly not my aim to offend anyone, but merely an aspiration to become more aware. Only from this place of awareness do I stand any chance of making lasting changes in my heart and mind and then maybe in the hearts and minds of others. As Brené Brown also says, “…perhaps a little hypothesis of generosity” for which I would be truly grateful.
Below are a several links to some interesting and thought-provoking articles I have found in the course of my research. Please comment below with any additional articles, videos, podcasts and books that you have found informative and helpful. My goal is to heighten my curiosity and awareness by asking the uncomfortable questions. I hope you’ll join me in this quest or allow me to join you in yours.
“There is one way of breathing that is shameful and constricted. Then, there’s another way: a breath of love that takes you all the way to infinity.” ~Rumi
No words
Only tears.
Blind rage burning like so many fires.
Fear
Fury
Taking up arms to fight an invisible enemy.
Who is the enemy?
Accusations fly like a swarm of locusts.
Pointing fingers
Panic.
Us and them.
Who is “us?”
Who is “them?”
Right?
Wrong?
Justified?
Fight against!
All words of warfare.
Same angry faces.
World War 3 has begun.
Poisoned
Infected
Divided
Isolation….within our own minds.
A terrifying hell for some,
A sanctuary for others.
Uncontrollable tears as my heart aches.
So much suffering at the hands of each other…
From our own minds.
Moving like zombies
Trying to get back to “normal.”
What is this normal you speak of?
Rampant greed?
Hate?
Fear?
Ignorance?
Keeping busy to distract us from the screaming?
The Earth screams.
The trees, the oceans, the sky…
All sentient beings…screaming.
We’ve become deaf
As we cling to the silence.
The screaming too much to bear.
We’ve become blind
As we cling to the darkness.
Too painful to see.
I have no words of comfort.
I have nothing to offer.
Nothing changes as I weep.
I retreat back into the distraction of busy-ness…
I pretend I am not scared.
I pretend I am not running away from the truth.
I pretend I know what is true and what is false.
I built foundations rooted into the earth.
But there is no ground.
Nothing stays the same, yet I cling to same-ness.
Everything in transition.
Where are we going?
Why?
I am suffocating in this global rage…
This seemingly endless struggle against hate.
Am I alone in this?
It seems we are all gasping for air.
We are triggered as we watch a man begging to breathe.
We can’t breathe either.
There is a knee on everyone’s throat.
Shut up.
Stay home.
Be afraid.
Do as you’re told.
No sovereignty over our own bodies…
our own lives.
“They” know what is best for “us.”
Be good and follow the rules.
Work harder.
Think less.
Dumb it down with chemicals and denial.
Don’t ask questions.
Drink the Kool-Aid.
We are all in this together?
As puppets in a puppet show?
Who are the puppet masters?
I tell myself….
I am free to choose.
Love or hate?
Anger or forgiveness?
Sadness or joy?
Peace or chaos?
Light or darkness?
Perhaps I’ll lie down and take a rest here in the middle.
“Pain is meant to wake us up. People try to hide their pain. But they’re wrong. Pain is something to carry, like a radio. You feel your strength in the experience of pain. It’s all in how you carry it. That’s what matters. Pain is a feeling. Your feelings are a part of you. Your own reality. If you feel ashamed of them, and hide them, you’re letting society destroy your reality. You should stand up for your right to feel your pain.” ~Jim Morrison
For the past few years, during my meditations, I have been working with the imagery of me sitting within a vibrant pink bubble. Within my bubble I am safe and radiate love and serenity.
Whenever I am faced with an external situation that threatens to burst my bubble, I imagine the skin of my bubble thickening to withstand all the poking and prodding. This practice usually works a treat and I am able to return to my centre, to solid ground.
These past couple of months have been a huge test of my bubble strength. My bubble has been unmercifully beaten upon and last week, it burst…spectacularly!
I was thrust into a swirling vortex of pain, mistrust and uncertainty. The depths of the betrayal and vitriol was shocking and overwhelming. It’s not so much this particular situation that is to blame, but the wounds it uncovered of so many old betrayals.
I was genuinely surprised at the level of suffering I was experiencing. I’m usually able to pull out of a downward spiral before crashing to the ground by applying any one of the many tools I’ve accumulated over the years.
Intellectually I know not to take this recent event personally. I know that the behaviour of others is a reflection of their inner world and has nothing to do with me. I understand karma and accountability and always strive to enquire as to what my part is…. what the lesson is that I need to learn.
This time is different. Why? Perhaps because of my higher than usual levels of exhaustion and stress, and also the constancy in which I’ve been engaged in this particular issue has simply exceeded my endurance capabilities. I know everyone in the world is suffering to lesser or greater degrees than me and I should strive to be more grateful for all the blessings in my life. These are unprecedented times and we’re all in this together. Compassion and kindness are the keys to emerging into this New Earth.
Still….. I am overwhelmingly sad. I feel utterly betrayed and hurt, not only because of this latest punch in the gut but for all the times my heart has been broken. However, the level of deceit and manipulation in this latest trespass has been hard to accept. I feel stupid for believing the lies so easily. Who can I trust and depend on?
Beneath these feelings is an undercurrent of emotion that I recognise as ancient. These events have triggered an old storyline that tells me I deserve all this because I am unworthy of love, loyalty or even common courtesy… that I don’t matter.
I know all of this is untrue, but I feel as though it is. I know that feelings are not fact and that all of this is delusion. I know that the opinions and actions of others has nothing to do with me. Everyone is responding (or reacting) to their own inner storyline. I absolutely know all this to be the truth. So why do I feel so defeated, so beat up, so triggered? Then comes the storyline that tells me I’m supposed to be made of tougher stuff than this and I should be ashamed for feeling so low and allowing this to affect me so deeply.
What a palaver! How do I maintain an open heart and have faith in people when so many are simply untrustworthy? How do I remain vulnerable to some but protected from others? How do I began to trust again when my ability to do so has been so shaken? How do I know who has my back and who seeks to harm me? I’ve always believed I was a great judge of character, but I guess times like these reveal who people really are beneath their masks, their gushy platitudes and false devotion.
To maintain equanimity in such turbulent times goes beyond my capabilities at present. To be completely honest, I’m tapped out. My cup is empty and my heart is broken. 💔 My bubble has burst.
So, I’m calling out an S.O.S. to my loved ones, my soul tribe, the healers and the light workers. Please share your love and wisdom, not only for my sake, but for everyone who is suffering heartbreak, loss and uncertainty.
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