The force I reference in this title is not the Star Wars kind, but rather the kind that’s inside your head and probably a little mean. The force that’s in opposition to gentleness.
I like to force myself to do things all the time. “I don’t feel like walking all the way home, but I’m going to force myself because I need the exercise.” “I don’t want to go out tonight, but I’m going to force myself because I need to be social.” The list could go on. I usually force myself because I have the best of intentions, but do you see how in forcing myself there’s opposition? There’s the “I” that doesn’t want to do something, and then there’s the “I” that makes me anyway. I think it’s probably my ego trying to exert control because, well, that’s what the ego does.
What I’m noticing lately though is I’d rather be in complete alignment with myself. I’d rather treat myself with love and gentleness because also, I realize eventually I’ll have the willingness to do what I need to do. But instead of forcing myself, I’ll just want to.
Let me back up. When I first started meditating it was suggested to me I needed to meditate twice a day every day. I would force myself for about two weeks before my routine petered off and I just couldn’t anymore. My willpower deflated. Then my senior year of college I wanted to meditate that frequently just for my sanity. What with all the stress of graduating, living with roommates, and entering the “real” world I wanted to meditate every day, twice a day just so I could get through. That’s how it is with me. It’s the same way with yoga. My teacher came to me in a dream and told me to practice my yoga postures and I refused. Because I didn’t want to. Then three years ago, all of a sudden I wanted to, so I did.
I bring this up because today I went swimming for the first time in probably three years and it was glorious. I smiled to myself and skipped down the street on the way to the pool because, “I was going swimming! I was going swimming!” Prior to today I tried to force myself to go. To somehow work swimming into my already busy schedule, but it just wasn’t happening. And now it has.
I’m not sure I’m making sense, but I guess my point is I don’t have to force myself to do anything – not even brush my teeth – because I know one day, someday, I’ll want to do those things. And it’s true. I want to brush my teeth twice a day and floss every night. I don’t ever have to use force with myself. I don’t ever have to do things I don’t want to as long as I’m willing to live with the consequences, like cavities, or whatever the case may be. Eventually my want and my willingness always line up. So I don’t have to worry. I don’t have to contemplate adding a kung fu class to my life or learning bookkeeping or whatever the other million things are that I think are good for me that I “should” be doing. I just don’t. Eventually the willingness always manifests. And if it doesn’t, perhaps I’m not meant to engage.
I feel so much more at ease knowing I don’t have to ever rely on my ego or the “should” voice because everything lines up. The time, the willingness, the money. It all comes together in a magical package where force doesn’t come into play. So I can relax and let go, and instead allow myself to live in harmony.
I dream of a world where we all allow ourselves to be where we are. A world where we recognize eventually, if we’re supposed to, we’ll find the willingness to do the task at hand. A world where we can relax, knowing all is well.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I didn’t intend to write this today. If you read AWIP regularly you know I blog on Thursdays and today is Monday but here I am writing anyway. I’m writing because some things are coming up and I think it might be fruitful to share them.
On Saturday I hosted an EFT workshop through the meetup group I started as a real-life extension of this blog. (P.S. Thanks to everyone who attended!) Anyway, one of the attendees became really upset because I neglected to tell the group the event took place at a yoga studio and thus people would be sitting on the floor. It ended up being fine because not only does the studio have bolsters, yoga mats, blankets, and pillows, but there is also a bench and a few office chairs. So the attendee didn’t have to sit on the floor, it all worked out, but I am still feeling upset about it two days later.
What I’m doing is I’m punishing myself. I’m whipping myself for not telling people about the space even though I had the thought to do so. I’m beating myself up because, “I should have known better! Why didn’t I tell them! I’m a horrible person!” but really the event is a stand in for all the other mistakes I’ve made in my life. The incident is a stand in for when I cut in line seven years ago to hear the Dalai Lama speak at the National Cathedral. It’s a stand in for when my sister and I wrote letters to a pair of brothers when I was 12 (me asking to be friends, her to profess her crush) and the mother came up to me saying how inappropriate it was. The incident is a stand in for that one time in 5th grade when I changed the answers to my test as we went over it in class so I could make an A. The list goes on.
For me, whenever I make a mistake I always feel so bad about it – I blow it way out of proportion and then I try to rationalize it away by saying, “Well I didn’t know any better.” Or, “I did the best I could at the time.” Or, “We all make mistakes, I’m only human.” What I learned from the workshop this weekend is it’s important to acknowledge the mistake or bad feeling or whatever, so I can move past it.
Why am I writing this blogpost? I guess because the other thing I learned from the EFT workshop is to say to myself, “Even though I did/did not __________, I deeply and completely love and approve of and accept myself.” Somewhere in my life I picked up the message mistakes equals bad and how can you love a bad person?!?
As I write this I want to weep because it’s true – I really have been thinking the only way I deserve love is if I’m perfect. The past few months have produced cracks in that thinking but it’s there nonetheless, otherwise I wouldn’t still be upset I forgot to tell people they would be sitting on the floor. I also know this whole incident is an opportunity to expose this, to shine the light of day on something I’ve wanted to avoid. Because I am still deserving of self-love, no matter what I do, no matter what I say, no matter what I think. This isn’t license for me to run around harming people – I take a daily oath not to do so – but it is a license to allow myself to be human, to make mistakes and say, “I love you anyway.”
I dream of a world where we can all love ourselves unconditionally no matter what. Where we allow ourselves to make mistakes, to grow, to become masters. A world where we dust off all things that do not serve us so the diamond within may shine. A world where we can acknowledge our faults and not expect ourselves to be perfect. A world where we look in the mirror and say, “I love you no matter what.”
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
“Even though I sprained my ankle I think I’ll still walk to work. It’s not that bad.”
“It’s freezing outside, I have all these groceries to carry, but my hotel is only a mile away so I’ll just continue to walk. I need the exercise after all.”
I’ve done both these things (and more) – I’ve walked miles on a sprained ankle. For days. I decided to suffer in the
I bring this up because I think a lot of self-punishment masquerades as something else: “I’m being environmental by walking!” “I’m being economical by not taking a taxi!” I ask you, why is money the most important thing? Isn’t my health and well-being more important than money? Don’t I deserve to hail a taxi when it’s cold, to rest my ankle when it’s sprained, and to otherwise treat myself with love?
I haven’t treated myself with love, haven’t cherished myself as much as I could because I’ve been comparing myself to other people. I’ve been saying, “Who am I to have X? I’m nobody special.” And then I worry if I do say I deserve X, it will come across as conceited.
I think about the EFT video I posted a few months ago, “You are magnificent.” In it Brad Yates says discusses this very subject:
“But if I say I’m magnificent, isn’t that conceited? But in fact, isn’t that one of the greatest ways to honor my Creator? What does God really want to hear? ‘I’m sorry God apparently you screwed up with me because I’m not so great.’ Or doesn’t it honor God more to say, ‘I am magnificent. Nice job Creator. You done good.’ And the more I recognize my magnificence the more good I can do. The more good I want to do. My playing small doesn’t serve the world. Part of me thinks that to be a really good person I should think less of myself. I should think less of what I have to offer. That I’m not good enough, that what I have to offer isn’t good enough. And yet I’m grateful for all those magnificent people that didn’t feel that way. Thank God for Gandhi, for Mozart, for Da Vinci, for Martin Luther King Jr., for David Bowie, for all these people who shared their magnificence. I choose to share my magnificence. I am who I am by God’s grace. And I choose to use that grace to great effect. I am magnificent.”
There’s a difference between thinking I am magnificent, that I deserve to rejoice in all the pleasures life has to offer, and being arrogant. I think arrogance hinges on judgment, on ranking, on superiority. There’s a difference between saying, “I am magnificent,” and “I am better than you.” I can think I’m magnificent without declaring any superiority or inferiority.
What I’m learning right now is I can have all the pleasures life has to offer without coming across as conceited. I can treat myself with love, dream big, and achieve my goals without cutting down others. I can accept my good without comparing myself to anyone else. I can accept my good without ranking myself. I can accept my magnificence and let that be completely self-contained.
I dream of a world where we see our magnificence without feeling superior or inferior. Where we allow ourselves to be graced with gifts from God, knowing we completely deserve them. Knowing we are worthy of them. I dream of a world where we treat ourselves with love. Where we cherish ourselves as the divine children of God that we are.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.