I am the very thing that holds. I am the one that has the grip, the tendency to cling, the one that allows things to swirl. I am the one that holds rather than letting it drop or fall away. I am the one that keeps something alive, by replaying it over and over and over again in my mind.
What if I did not revisit something? What if I left it as it was? What if I allowed it to be rather than analyze it and ask what I could have done differently? It happened. It is in the past and me returning to it, dwelling on it is bringing it to now and I cannot go back.
Knowing that what I can do is take radical responsibility for my actions, words, choices and the assumptions that most of these were rooted in and release it all, accepting it to be what it is, for what it was-an opportunity to learn.
I am observing myself, noticing the play of the mind and what I have agreed to. What my mind and I have agreed to, these familiar patterns that have played out that I am now seeing are deeply rooted in assumptions. Oh yes, this rabbit hole goes deeper and deeper.
Agreements. They can be spoken or unspoken, subtle or pronounced. Clarified or hazy. I am noticing these agreements; the agreements I have with others and the agreements I have with myself. Agreements on how things will go, the role I will fall into, the things I will say. I am noticing that some of these agreements have become habitual and routine like, automatic responses where I simply do what is expected of me. Some of these agreements are not ways that I have consciously agreed to, rather I have taken them on as ways to be and interact. And by my taking them on, by participating with them I have agreed that they are the right, acceptable way.
Assumptions I am finding, most often through an unpleasant feeling or a reaction that has stunned me and taken me by surprise are always unspoken and they are subtle. For me they are subtle ways of manipulation and control. A gaze or a look of shame. An action that conveys that I am making a bad choice that is paired with an internal dialogue of “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” This inner dialogue that speaks is how I know it is not about me, because whatever voice inside my head is saying, it is not me, those words are not mine. They are someone else’s words that have been said to me and I took them on, assuming that is the way I should be or life should be. They, the people who say these things or give these looks, I assume, are trying to control me and manipulate me through shame and blame, shunning my behavior or action. It is all unspoken and rarely acknowledged or addressed.
Arguments arise from the confluence of these two places. Agreements and assumptions. Because in order for these thoughts or ways to be to be an assumption, something I believe, I have to agree to them. The way I see something and the way another sees something is unique to each of us, based on our own experiences, agreements and assumptions. This is why I can be experiencing something with someone else and have a totally different experience. Agreements and assumptions are how I have come to see and navigate the world and they shape my experience. We each have our own agreement and assumptions. They are formed within us from the environments and systems that surround us, family, home, school, community, region, country. This is how I know they are not a part of me, because not everyone holds the same agreements and assumptions, they are learned and we learn them through the places where we interact with the world and those around us.
I have come to notice that when I enter a moment in a fixed or rigid way, I am not being flexible. I do not hear what someone else is saying to me and I feel I need to uphold what I have said, to feel that I am keeping my word. This has led me into some arguments, ones in which I feel like a bull elk entangling its antlers with my opponent. Words like, ‘you want to play’ and ‘you want to see how strong I am,’ come into my mind and I am clouded. My view is so hazy with the desire to keep to my word, be respected, right, exercise my control and strength that I am not interacting in a responsive way. Rather I am set, fixed. I am doing whatever I can to maintain my position, my stance. This is what I speak to when I share I am being rigid and fixed. There is no movement what-so-ever. I do not hear what anyone else is saying. I cannot even hear or see any other options or perspectives. It is as if I am locked in, strapped in and along for the ride. It is as if I am acting from a place of no mind, from a place of instinctual action with little to no rational thought. It is as if I am not using my mind at all, as if something else takes over or steps in. It is only after, when I come through- usually through some shocking moment or a phrase that is spoken that jolts me out so I can see. And then, once I meet myself there I am depleted, exhausted, confused and ashamed. Wondering what just happened?
This happened last week with my niece. She walked out of the bathroom wearing pants that she had worn three days in a row. It is as if she knew we would get into battle, because as she walked out she announced, “These are comfortable and I am wearing them to school.” I told her she wasn’t. I said, “No you are not. You are not walking out the door wearing those pants. You have worn them for three days and they are dirty.” As she began to put on her shoes, I continued, “I do not know why you are putting on your shoes, I have already told you, you are not walking out of the house wearing those pants.” She came back at me, “you can’t tell me what to do. You are not my parents and they are okay with me wearing these pants to school so is my teacher.” Fixed. Set. Rigid. Gaining fire and momentum. I felt it coming on. I was not budging and the more she spoke, the more I dug my heels in the ground.
I walked away. I went upstairs and sat down. My whole body was jittery, pulsing. I did not feel good. What have I done? What have I gotten myself into? I asked myself. How am I going to uphold this, how am I going to keep my word? I came up with a brilliant plan, I thought, if she is not going to listen to me, I am going to tell her that she cannot do what she wants to do afterschool. Yes, this was my thinking. This was my reasoning, if you are not listening to me, if you are not showing me the respect that I deserve, because I am an adult and you are a child, because I said something and you have to honor my words, then I am going to ensure that what you want will not happen. Yes. Yes. All of this for power and control. To honor and uphold what I said.
She stood looking at me, crying and stomped off to change her pants. I began to walk out the door. She met me in the driveway crying, saying, “Auntie Sara, you are scaring me.” And there it was, the shock that jolted me out of my fixed position of power. She had the ability to walk up to me and say, you are scaring me. What was I doing? To what length would I have gone to uphold what I said?
It was quiet in the car and no one talked as we walked to school. Breaking the silence, I asked if she wanted to talk about what just happened now or after school. She said after school and I agreed. That would give us distance and time to reflect.
I reflected. I am still reflecting. Writing this now, two days later is evident of how this event has been a major teaching opportunity for me.
From the moment she opened the door, I was set on what I was going to do and say. I had already taken a position, rooted down in my warrior pose and was ready for battle. I had a feeling she was going to emerge wearing the pants and it is as if the whole thing was already prearranged, destined to play out the way it did. Reflecting back, she spoke first and I did not honor her words. I told her that I heard her and that her way was not going to be the way it was going to be. I was standing firm, from a place where I saw my power and control and acted from there. I saw no other way. It did not occur to me until later in the day when I was talking with a colleague and a mom, who shared, did you think you could have said, I have reflected or changed my mind, or I realized what I said… And none of that was apparent or clear to me when I was in the haze. All I could see was being right and upholding what I said. Because, I have an agreement with myself, that there is power in the word and when I speak it, I act on it. I said something and I was determined to see it through. When she, through shaking teeth and eyes full of tears shared that I was scaring her it all became so crystal clear. What had I been doing? I was not honoring her, her words, her body, her feelings. I overrode them.
The very thing I am irritated about others doing to me is exactly what I did to her. I attempted to silence her voice out of power and control. Out of an assumption that I had, deep within, that someone might think I was not a responsible adult sending a child to school in pants that she had worn three maybe four days in a row. There are so many layers here. This assumption alone has many hooks and entry points. From me being a teacher. Fear of getting in trouble. Not doing something right. Society’s view on what is acceptable. What somebody else would think of me. When I revisited the morning events with my niece, she kept saying “everyone is okay with it, no one cares.” Her words echo in my mind. I was making it about me, and when it is about me, it speaks to me and where I am at. Not anyone else. What anyone else thinks is not relevant, nor does it matter. As she so aptly pointed out.
These agreements that I hold within myself paired with the assumptions I held led me to an argument. An external one with my niece and an internal one with my mind. The battle that brought to the surface that somewhere deep within, I have firmly held beliefs that are fixed and rigid. Beliefs that are rooted and attached to something deep within, that came up and surprised me. Oh yes, my baggage. The stuff that I carry, the weight and burden that I endure. Stuff that is still here. The story that I am not able to forgive- which brings me back full circle.
There are agreements that I have, that I hold, that I feel I have to uphold. Agreements that I have made with myself and others. Agreements that I did or did not know I agreed to until now, because now I am able to see them. They have revealed themselves to me. They are out in the open, out from under the rug, out from the dark recesses of my mind. They been brought to light, to be seen.
At times, I operate from a place of assumption. My desire to know is so strong that I create all of these stories up in my mind as if they are true, and from that space I interact with the world. I make up how you think of me, what you think about me. I tell myself what I think you are telling yourself about me in your mind and I become convinced that what I think is right, that you are definitely thinking these thoughts about me. Thoughts that play on my weak spots, my tender areas. Just the other week I was convinced that my mom was not having dessert because she felt I was fat and over indulging, that I was enjoying too much. I told myself that she did not take a fork or plate to enjoy dessert because she felt that by doing that she could control me. That her action to not eat dessert could shame me in some way- because it has in the past, that is how I learned this. This is how I know. Or if I leave something out on the counter or forgot to put something away, that she or anyone else is telling themselves that I am irresponsible. Yes, yes. This is true. True to me. Real for me. These are two of the MANY experiences that I have encountered. I have lived my life by these assumptions, these made-up stories and projections and I have taken them to be true. Real. These assumptions are, at times, the foundation from which I am interacting, from which I am standing.
I am noticing that each time I become aware, I loosen up my grip on this tendency to project and fabricate, which really are markers of wanting to know and understand. There are a few things I can do- I can ask questions to clarify, to make clear the haziness that surrounds. I can continue to practice and be aware. And I can observe. Simply notice and watch and allow that which is happening, happen. Without a desire to change it in any way. This action requires me to acknowledge the assumptions and break free of the silent grip that they hold. Because what I am actually doing is speaking up, using my voice to clarify, to make visible the invisible ways that we have been communicating. Breaking the pattern of clouded, hazy living and moving toward clarity.
This most recent event with my niece has also opened me to soften into the notion that I do not have to go back and wish I had done something different, for it to be another way. I can simply accept that it was what it was and this is what it is. That I can take responsibility for my role and part and continue to step forward.
My tendency is to replay the event over and over in my mind. If I had said… or if I had done then maybe this wouldn’t have happened. When I am in this place, I acknowledge that I want things to be a different way. That I am not at ease or happy or like what happened and I wish I could have experienced it in a different way.
In some way, this event and all of the others that I have experienced and wished could be another way, convey that I am wrong, or what I did was wrong or bad and that I caused a problem and that it should have been avoided. The more time I spend here, in the place where what I did was wrong and bad, telling myself that this whole thing could have been avoided if I had made a different choice perpetuates the struggle and suffering.
What if this is all happening for me to see and learn? What if all of this is happening so I can become aware of these tendencies and habitual ways of interacting? What if the action of being, of what transpired is enough? What if what happened, happened so it could be released and the tension and energy moved on its own? What if no more action or energy is required, needed or necessary?
Maybe then, from this new understanding I see that I have not been observing. Rather I have been noticing and watching. This may be what it means to observe, to not be attached to any particular outcome or way, not wanting to change anything or have it be a specific way. What if the practice of observing is this watching and noticing, without motive? It is sitting and being with what is here and what is happening. Maybe it is not detaching and removing myself from the event and it is actually seeing my part, my role and how I participated to create what is unfolding in the moment. And the noticing is more of an afterthought that catches up with me. The noticing feels like it come with some judgement, some of my own projections which are tied to agreements that I have set and allowed myself to adhere to. Yes, observing and noticing are not the same. Up until this point, I have been using them interchangeably. I see how they are different.
I have been telling myself to become unattached, to no be attached to any outcome or specific way. The truth is, I am attached. I consist of attachments. I am connected to the earth through gravity. By body is held together by blood and water, tissue and bones. I am made of attachments. When my body is in harmony, I do not think of how it moves and works together, seamlessly. It is only when there is tension or disease, pain or an uncomfortably that arises that gets me thinking about how my body works, and most often, this tension is caused by restriction, by tightness which is similar to how I feel when I hold tight and grip.
The invitation here is to be more flexible, more fluid. More at ease with how things are, accepting the movement. Knowing that movement brings new. Always. There is a flow and when things are fluid, they are working in harmony.
In connection with the other themes that arise for me, I see how my reflections are also ways to attempt to control. To wish or want things to be a different way than the way they are, to go back and do them again. My desire to make sense and want to know is connected here, infused with the idea that what I did was wrong, so I want to ensure that what happened will not happen again because the feeling is really unpleasant. My reflections are tinged with judgement and criticism- if you had done _____ then this wouldn’t have happened. This is connected with my-self punishment and self-violent, self-deprecating thoughts.
What if all of this has to happen this way? What if it is all playing out according to the script and we are all playing our prescribed roles- acting to carry out the scenes? What if instead of wanting it to be another way, following someone else’s script or wanting to be in someone else’s role (which is a piece on its own) it is perfect as it is? What if I met life as it came to me rather than designing ways for it to be?
What if I dropped the need to know, make sense, understand and simply followed the ebbs and flows?
The image of a waterfall dropping or when water rushes over rocks comes to mind. The water speeds up, gets churned up and the energy there is stronger as the water circles back upon itself, causing the clear water become full of air and bubbles, becoming a cloudy white. Water gives power, water creates energy. Eventually the descent evens out and the stream or river becomes clear again, moving freely with ease and fluidity.
My agreements are like the water, my assumptions are like the rocks and my arguments are like the falls themselves. They are all part of the river, all part of my journey, all part of the path itself.
Yes, yes. All part of the path for me to see.
With gratitude,
Sara
PS. I shared this story with my mom. When I said, “I do not know who was speaking, whose words were coming out of my mouth,” my mom responded, “That was me.”
PPS. I do not need to know why or make sense of any of it. Simply allowing it to happen, unfold, unfurl and move, simply allowing it to be as it wants to be and sitting with it all.
PPS. There is immense power of the word, in the word and I do practice what I speak. It is important to me…
