creature hiding in plain sight, taken with iphone…
there are times in my life where my world gets really quiet. It’s more than introspection…yes, there are a lot of questions teeming around inside of my heart. yes, i’m trying to *think* and *reason* my way into the answers to those questions. yes, i get physically quiet. i don’t feel much like sharing my thoughts, so i’m not speaking, not writing. not reaching out. my closest kindreds recognize these times and poke (gently)…”hey, you alright in there?”
this is one of those times. though it feels a little different, less heavy and more productive. there have been some true, honest, and beautiful realizations that make me so excited for the time when i come out of this cocoon…and there have been some really tough moments of realization of just how hard i can be on myself. yesterday i was listening to a yoga DVD (foundations by hillary rubin – it’s great. one of those that’s for beginners but is also so deep that practiced yogis will really appreciate the wisdom. i’ll have copies of it in the studio soon for you). i say listening rather than doing because i felt so tapped of energy and sad that i went to my mat with the intention of practicing along with hillary rubin, but instead found myself in a restorative pose (reclining goddess – oh how i love that name, and it’s as blissful as it sounds!) and stayed in it for most of the length of the DVD. but i listened. hillary has a a unique perspective and she said something that was like putting her finger directly on a little point of my heart and i started weeping. early on in the practice she has us in cat pose and says “how do you see yourself” and i suddenly really heard the things i’ve been saying to myself.
i’ve had enough therapy and done enough meditation to know that there is an ongoing monologue within all of us…and i’ve listened to my inner voice and worked on changing that recording. hence my “blissful*thinking” blog. i’ve always known and believed in the power of a postive thought process. somewhere along the line, though, i stopped paying attention and that voice has become, well, cruel. my voice tells me i’m not good enough in a variety of ways, using many different tactics and lots of “you should have’s…” and “why didn’t you…” and has now added “how could you…” and even direct insults. i remembered hearing myself insulting my own knees earlier in the day. to be honest, I’ve never paid much attention to what my knees looked like, but suddenly my voice is telling me they look like saggy, baggy elephant knees. what a waste of time, this voice.
but really all of it, every last bit of it, comes back to fear. the voice is just a way of holding myself back so that i don’t move forward, don’t take risks. and ultimately don’t become fully open to my own possibility.
i’m capping this introspective time with two weeks away in september. i’m blocking out some time to do a solo road trip to new hampshire to be with all the lovelies at the squam art workshops. then i’ll head back south for a week deep in the woods, by a river, with lots of trees. a quiet, lovely, art, nature, book and writing-filled soul retreat. i’ve never done anything like this before. i’ve never allowed myself to think i deserved a break. but something in my body has recently said “enough!” i need it to be a week of sleep, yummy food, and soul work – and i would oh so love some suggestions on things to read or do to help guide this work while i’m there. i’m so, so grateful to those in my life that are making it possible - my friends for letting me hide away in their cabin, the instructors that have been and will be teaching my classes, elizabeth at squam for being so encouraging and telling me i belong there. i’m quite honestly, seriously scared. but i’m going for it anyway. i wonder how i’ll see myself when i get back.