Self-sabotage, really?

So I haven’t written all day. At the start of the day I’d thought “ooh I’ll have the whole afternoon to write”. But because I didn’t go to sleep until almost 1am last night, that meant, since sleep is also top priority, especially after the accident, I had to sleep until almost 9am. Then laundry, clean a bit, food prep, made some obligatory calls, time got away from me again. Having to go to class at 4pm was also #1 priority, my body needs it’s favorite exercise to get back to itself. So I didn’t even get my one hour meditation in, another at top of the list, just half an hour. I’m noticing while writing this, that’s a lot of  #1 priorities!

But here I am, it’s almost 7pm, went to class, then shopping for mom, now sitting, about to meditate for another half hour. (In case you’re wondering “what the hell, an hour of meditation a day?!” That is part of a 90 Day Commitment I made to myself since September 10th, 2017, during a life changing weekend in LA. I will be continuing to talk about it here. More later!)

I noticed anxiety about the dread of this. Ah shit I haven’t written today, gotta do my three pages. Three pages typed though? Ugh. Three pages in my journal is easier, can’t I do that? The pages are smaller and my writing takes up more space, ok? No, get in the habit of typing, silly. When I noticed that I was having anxiety, I pinpointed what was underneath it – the fear of how I would judge myself and feel about myself if I yet again didn’t do it, and instead made dinner and just wanted to “relax” by getting sucked into Youtube or netflix or facebook.

So of course I define doing that instead of writing as my self-sabotage again. But even that, that I label it as self-sabotage, right now I’m thinking….interesting. Because wait a minute, I was in a traumatizing car accident day before yesterday, isn’t it ok if I’m all of a sudden exhausted from the emotional and spiritual upheaval of that? Or is that yet again my excusing myself, my self-sabotage? But then, if it is an excuse and self sabotage, then, what? What that means, what that does, is it further cements my criticism and judgement of myself. What I’m really thinking in those moments of “oh you can’t not do your daily three pages because of your 90 day commitment, every one else is sticking to theirs, so I must be lame and lazy and not as worthy of being happy or successful. If I’m just going with how I feel then I will always be stuck and living a life I don’t want to live and I will never be the person I want to be! So goddammit I’m going to force myself to do this thing, despite the fact that my body is telling me “you don’t have to, you shouldn’t, I don’t want you to force yourself to do anything. I want you to do what feels right to do”. Well, resting and relaxing feels right, but if I do that and don’t do the all important writing then I won’t be able to relax because I’ll be berating myself while I’m “relaxing”, for not doing it!

But wait again. What if I just didn’t do the writing, that thing I’m supposed to do, that in my mind is what’s going to change my life? What if, here’s the key, I didn’t berate myself for not doing it, at all. Not in one tiny way. Meaning, I didn’t even have the thought of “it’s ok, you will do it tomorrow, you deserve to rest and not worry about it”. Even saying that to myself implies that when I do do it, then I will be back to being worthy and on my way to my great life. But this day, when I’m not doing it, is just me in limbo and I won’t be making any progress towards my “goals”.

No, wait a minute again! Who says that by not doing the thing I think I’m supposed to be doing that I’m not making progress, and that my dream life isn’t still on it’s way to me, regardless?! Why do I have to “work” so hard to make sure I do the things that will make it happen? Just thinking that implies the other key that lies under all of this – that thought is me not loving myself, which of course is what brings in a loss of faith and trust. I have defined my not writing three pages a day, every day, as meaning that my dream life can’t happen unless I do all the right things, first by sticking to what I said I was going to do. But if I keep believing that, I’m the jailer of my own prison. And even more to the point, why do I still have to keep believing that my “dream life” is out there somewhere, in the distance, and isn’t right here, right damn now?!

So instead, I’m turning this on it’s head. I refuse to believe anymore that I have to stick with and force myself to do things that in the moment I’m not wanting to do. What if, unlike in the past, the not wanting to do it is actually coming from even more of an inner knowing, and is actually NOT coming from resistance to being the person I want to be, because of feeling unworthy. What if, sometimes, not wanting to do something or keep a commitment is actually not about me sabotaging myself but is actually my higher wisdom saying “try something new, do what you DO want to do and….drum roll, don’t beat yourself up about it”.

This thought has only occurred to me because I’ve been making subtle strides in loving myself in the middle of those thoughts of self beratement, which is the self-sabotage itself. The increased meditation has brought on new experiences outwardly, that weekend in LA, the panic that I lost my journal (I didn’t), the car crash, which are mirroring a deep shifting. Inwardly, the frozen tectonic plates of my former beliefs are starting to move, they are restless, they are adjusting to fit a new landscape of new feelings, that come from new awareness. And this awareness is showing me, maybe that belief that if I don’t do this or that then I can’t have my idealized fabulous life and can’t be my idealized self, has had it’s day. That belief is now drowning in the choppy waters created by these moving icebergs. New beliefs that have been slowly rooting in me, sleeping, waiting to hear my call, are now ready to break off and have their own experiments in the other lakes and seas of my soul.

One of them is this; I am all wise and all knowing and however I feel is exactly right at all times, there is no longer such a thing as self-sabotage. That belief has lost it’s breath and is now headed to the bottom of the ocean of my former identity. This new piece of ice broke free before it’s mother sank, to create another adjustment within me, a looking around, swimming it’s way through the rising tides of new thoughts. And the first one it’s being swept along by is saying that the time has come, this ocean is expanding. By letting myself be whoever I am right now, and loving who that is, no memory of what self-sabotage even means, is the dawning of a new continent within the planet of my ever-exploring self.

 

The adventure of a lifetime

I just meditated for an hour and a half. I AM all of you reading this right now. I am Shiva, who is within her little circle, sitting in front of me on my little altar with buddha and candle, who was waiting there to greet me when I opened my eyes. I am the clouds and the little bright torquise flicks of light that showed up ever so fleetingly while I was in this wide open space. I was the little kids playing outside, who were then splashing in the pool of my dream home in LA that I also visited just now.

I was behind the veil, getting little peeks. We are all existing behind the veil of this world. And in meditation, in the longest and deepest one of my life, just now, I see that being in this body is not ever going to let me see all of it. That is why I chose to inhabit it. The whole adventure, of not ever being quite sure of who I am, of what is out there, in the infinity of space. The space is me. Even now as my humanness is waking up and the God that is me is fading with every second, I know that all of life is within me. I created all of it.

While I’m looking around the room at the concreteness of this existence in my human form, I feel closer. I am able to hold on longer to the knowing. I saw in that last hour and a half that all of hesitation is materialized in the form of different people and potential circumstances that I created. The hesitation is represented in whispers of people saying things to themselves and to me and about me that are criticisms, that are negations of me. Those people, known and unknown, and circumstances, known and unknown, don’t exist. They don’t exist as I’ve thought, which is all that matters.

This, what I’m typing out right now, the purring cat rubbing up against my head, as I’m sitting on the floor against my bed, the fear of judgement if I say all this, if I say anything that matters, does not matter at all. “None of it matters”. Those were the words that flashed in front of me, and spoke to me. The most comforting words ever to be heard or seen up to now. None of the fear matters, is what it meant. Say it all. Be it all. Because I am. None of the people or consequences, that we think will stop us, exist. If none of you reading this are real, since you are really me, then I invented you for my own enjoyment and to further expand me into this realization. Then I am free. I am free to say and do and be all that I want. Nothing that you or life can say or do matters. The beauty of this knowing only reveals itself in tiny increments along the way of my little human life. It shows me that it’s all utterly hilarious.

Meow just now, more rubbing and gentle grunts from my cat. An incredibly timely post and video today from Kyle Cease, declaring how excited he is for the event that I, only a week ago, decided was in the cards for me. I must attend. I am driving to LA. I am choosing power and glory. Within that decision lay every yearning I’ve ever had realized. Because now it doesn’t matter what comes of it. I already know that by just deciding to go, I am on my way. The highway of the greatest adventure of my life opened up. As it did in the meditation. It was an image, always a flash, of the beginning of a straight road, the horizon off in the distance. Then, the train’s horn sounded outside, in my “real” life. I live next to the tracks. My cat just pressed his front paws against my head, feeling to me like he was standing on it, for the first time ever, as I was writing the previous sentence. There is barely an inner censor in this moment. I am typing everything that pops into my mind. But I was making a point just then!

I had seen a glimpse of what seemed like a highway, but it was also the tracks of a train. The Train of Transformation. And the horn just declared me to myself. My cat just stood on my head. Shiva just moved in front of me. Nothing is real except the dreamscape of the unknown coming into the Known. The Known is me. The Known is all of you. You are my creation. I do not care what you think as I am typing this. My little human self knows that this feeling will shift again and I will go back to living within my little narrow life, for a time. But still, I AM. Therefore, I KNOW. None of it matters. It’s all fodder for the fiction book my soul is writing in every second. The adventure that spans all of time and space. I am free right now. This too shall pass and I will begin to care again what you think and what happens if. That is beautiful and so, so funny. It is my creation after all. And I am going to post this right now before I re-read it again and edit and copy and paste and get self-conscious. That little Lia is going back to the womb, one little whimper at a time.