Dissolving into the infinite

I sit on the sofa, with D in front of me. He just arrived, as we had agreed the day before. He said ”I noticed a resistance, like my timing was off?” and yes… he was so right. I had four more hazelnuts I wanted to munch down, before we got started. Felt a bit embarrassed at myself, chewing, chewing, chewing. As he raises the slightly off-vibes, immediately I drop into the NOW, and realize, here is a person who sees so much more than that which is visible using only the eyes. An hour long therapeutic process awareness experience commenced, widening me, to the extent that I felt I was close to being without boundaries – so far outside of my own body, it’s almost scary. But just almost. I would not trade that experience for anything in the world.

Being seen. Held. Loved.

Tears and laughter.

Deep anguish, as well as the most divine experience of slowly dissolving into the infinite, that which is me, and outside of me, ‘til the end of spacetime…translucent

I don’t know how to describe what D leads me to experience, but it’s something other than anything I’ve ever experienced before. It’s going within, while simultaneously going out, far and wide, reaching all that is, has been and will be.

When we are done, and I’ve landed again, somewhat at least, within the confines of my own body, there is a translucent feeling to it, to me. I am tired. Like having run a marathon… or so I imagine, since I never have.

Time disappeared as we sat opposite each other on the sofa. All that was, was all that is. All. And nothing. At the same time.

I saw more of me.
Saw those that came before me, the generations upon generations of women who have given birth to babies, who in turn bore babies, and somewhere along the line this resulted in my mother giving birth to me. And me giving birth to my daughter.

About holding it in…. or not.
The pivotal moment in time when the path ahead, for the women stemming from my womb, going back all the way to the womb of my First Mother, shifts, no longer carrying the weight, the burden, of judgement and inner harshness, concealed within. Letting it out into the world. Being, perhaps, created by those who cannot stand to see it, visibly, so used to it being concealed. Cringing from the physical aspects of it, when it is recreated outside, rather than sneakily hidden underneath the skin, the flesh, deep within our soulbodies. So much easier to ignore, pretend it’s not existing, turning it into something that-we-must-not-name…

About the jagged sensation of Worry.
And the much softer and huggable Concern.

Running a gauntlet.
Not because of the session itself, but because that’s what I have been doing, inside myself, for so long. So long I almost cry thinking about it. And cry I did. Oh, how I cried. For what has been. And what might be.

Dream-paralysis.
Lethargy.
Heavy. So heavy I cannot even flutter an eyelid. Impossible to move.
And yet… the ability to move is there. I choose not to. But why? Why?

Tired.
Oh, so tired, from running that gauntlet.
Feeling so alone. Absolutely alone, with no assistance… and then D reaches out his being to me, and hold me with his eyes.

Crying, desperately. But for once, sharing the burden of my pain, not alone in it, not having to carry it all alone. D is there, helping me carry… and I can imagine what it would feel like, to let go of all the responsibility that is not mine to carry, that I have been lugging around, for eons of time… believing that I should? That I would have no value unless I took it all on?

Oh. Be gentle. I am still learning. Stumbling about on earth, doing the best I can, failing miserably at times, exultingly successful other times. And meanwhile, putting myself through that gauntlet, over and over, a never-ending story.

Or? Might my time as a gauntlet-runner be coming to an end? Now that I’ve seen it, experienced it, become aware, so aware, excruciatingly painfully aware of what I’ve been internally putting myself through, out of… what? Fear?

Pure. Innocent.
Might I be? Am I allowed to be? To just Be? Aware?
Letting go of all that has been, being reborn. Like Phoenix, reborn from the fire, rising from the burning embers, flapping it’s wings and flying off… Being, Aware, and only carrying theweight of the responsibility that is Mine to carry. Letting the rest burn off, turn to ashes in that fire.

Liberated.
Jivanmukta.

As I write this, it’s there once more. The sensation. Dissolving into infinity.
At least, I feel it again, I revisit it as I write. I close my eyes, and it is within me. The liberation, experiencing the moment that is what is, all that ever has been, and all that will ever be. In one single point. Now.

Have I ever had an experience as humbling as this?

Varsam samvaro

En av de viktigaste beståndsdelarna i min egen personliga inre resa är det som jag på engelska benämner såsom being gentle to myself. I ett försök att hitta ett bra svenskt begrepp för detsamma, leddes jag till att kalla det varsam inre dialog. En varsam samvaro.En lek med ord. Vara samman, inte åtskild. Vara i varsam samvaro. Vila, i varsam samvaro.

Med en barsk inre dialog bygger jag barriärer inombords, där det av mig som är den inre dialogen närmast vill undvika att riktigt kännas vid mitt fysiska jag. Gör sig själv till ett slags över-jag som ser ner på resten av mig, fryner på näsan, står över, är bättre än… 

Men varför? Vem gagnas av det? Med en varsam inre dialog vill jag vara i samvaro med mig själv, på så många sätt. Acceptera, älska, tycka om. Hela mitt jag, allt det jag är. Glädas åt framsteg och hålla ett space för motgång, misstag och klumpigheter. Låta mig lära av mig och min resa på jord och i sinne.

Hur – och kanske när – är du i varsam samvaro med dig?

Being aware – reflection #1

True to my word, I’m immersing in the concept of being aware today. As I sit here I look at the post from yesterday, and figure I might just as well just start at the beginning:

What does being aware make you think?
First off, that it’s something I know much more intimately now, compared to before. I am much more aware today, both of myself, but also of what goes on outside of me. And I like that.

Feel?
Well. Since I like the feeling of being aware, it really makes me feel good. Thinking about awareness gives me a warm feeling, and a strong sense of calm. It’s not always easy to be aware of this and/or that, but generally speaking, it’s as if the world becomes clearer, more well-defined, with a heightened awareness. Hence, the sense of calm.

What do you associate with being aware?
Hm.
Let’s see…
Wisdom. Clarity. A greater presence in the world – seeing it for what it is. Not placing a lot of extra stuff on top, but rather stripping down to what is.
A gentleness towards oneself, as well as to all other sentient beings, but also to everything else, non-sentient as well as sentient.

being aware reflection 1

Do you think of yourself as being aware? Or not?
Yes. I do. Now. Before, not so much. For me, it’s very much linked to the fact that I’ve learned how to be gentle with myself, which means I am curious about myself. Curiosity and awareness go very well hand in hand, because unless you are curious, and gentle with yourself, what you might discover about yourself through an increased awareness will get you in trouble. With yourself, no less.
What I mean is, before, I was afraid to see me. Because when I found something within that I didn’t like, didn’t approve of, wasn’t proud of…. I beat myself up over it. And that really isn’t a very good way to encourage more awareness and discovery. Nowadays, when I find something within that I previously would have labeled as something not likable, something to disapprove of etc, I see it. That’s all. I can embrace it for what it is, a part of me. Not judging it. And definitely not beating myself up over it. Makes me much more prone to being even more aware.

Do you have a role model, someone who personifies being aware for you?
There are quite a few people that I look up to when it comes to being aware. People who model it for me, simply by being. And I’ve been smart enough to make these people an integral part of my life. Friends, partners in various endeavors, coaches. So yes. I definitely have role models, and by hanging out with them, my own awareness get’s a boost. It’s a good trick, I definitely recommend it.

What, or who, boosts your awareness?

A part of being human

I listened to Parker Palmer giving this commencement address to the graduating class at Naropa University, and several times I got goose bumps and shivers. For me, those have become telltale signs that there’s something important and/or very true being shared.


The six suggestions Parker provides on living a life worth exploring are simple. And powerful. So powerful I followed my urge to split this recommendation into six consecutive blog posts. You can read my thoughts on the first, second, third and fourth suggestion here.

BoldomaticPost_Since-suffering-as-well-as-joThe fifth suggestion is: Since suffering as well as joy comes with being human, I urge you to remember this: Violence is what happens when we don’t know what else to do with our suffering.

As Parker says, violence can be directed inwards as well as outwards. And it’s not the answer, it’s not. Hardest for me has been to stop being violent inwards. Beating myself up, verbally, in the harsh and terrifying inner chatter, that accompanied me for so long. It’s almost weird trying to look back at it. I have a hard time remembering what it sounded like, specifically, because it’s so far from the inner chatter within me right now. My mental chatter has shifted, and as a result. I don’t suffer as much either. It’s like a merry-go-round. I suffer, beat myself up over something, and then suffer more, think I’m a wimp for it, so I beat myself up over it some more…. and so on.

And now. A totally different tone. A gentleness. Towards me. And to think I only realized it was possible to be gentle towards myself around my 35th birthday. (Born in 1972, you do the maths.) When I stopped being harsh on myself (and yes, I do believe that to be a form of violence) something else became possible. Because at that time not only could I could start to take in all of my own feelings, I could also start to take you in. And with that, your suffering no longer scared me (as much anyway). Being less likely to want to thrash out, verbally or physically, at your ways to try to escape your suffering. Understanding it doesn’t say much – if anything – about me, and everything about you.

Me being ok with feelings of suffering (both my own, and yours), those same feelings seem to pass through me quicker and more easily. The rabbit holes of my past used to be so deep it took me forever to get out of them. Now I fall into them, but not as deep, and not for as long. Maybe because I no longer fight desperately to get out of them?

 

 

Breeze against my cheeks

Went for a slow walk. Actually, I’ve almost forgotten how to walk fast. Me and my family have been in training to revert to the way we humans are supposed to move, in sync with the ground, rather than opposing it with every step. Tommy Olausson of Runfeeling have been helping us. It’s a process of unlearning the old ways of attacking the ground, and learning a new way, the way of the child actually, forgotten since years and years.

And I’ve been practicing. I’ve added a few of the calf-strengthening exercises to my daily Seven-routine. And I try to walk very deliberately, trying to avoid stomping around, and rather meeting the ground gently. As I’ve become more and more aware of how hurtful it is for my body to stomp around, my walking pace has slowed down.

Yesterday I had to walk a bit faster to avoid getting late for a ferry ride, and it’s like I’ve forgotten how to do it. I guess the reason is mostly because I haven’t learned the skill of gentle walking fully yet, and when I’ve got that down, I’ll be better able to up my tempo while still meeting the ground without jolting all the joints of my body. But so far, if I need to walk faster, it’s very easy to go back to my old way of walking, heel hard on the ground. Cushioned by sneakers, enabling me to continue battering my joints, step by step.But here’s a tip: Put your fingers in your ears, blocking outside sound. And then walk. Normal. I promise you’ll get a shock from hearing the jolt when your heel hits the ground! Then try to walk without making any internal sound. And then call Tommy, to make sure you learn properly!

gentle breezeAnyway, returning to the slow walk of the evening. I stopped to take a photo of the long grass with wild blooming flowers, and heard the birds singing as well. Stood still, closed my eyes, and just took it all in. The sounds. The smell. The faint breeze against my cheeks.

As I am slowing down to the speed of life, I notice more both within me, and outside me. And as I notice more, I enjoy life more than before. It get’s richer, fuller, more vibrant.

When did you last feel the breeze against your cheeks?

Be – Do – Have

Just listened to Tom Ziglar, the son of Zig Ziglar, talk about one of the concepts his father coined, the concept of Be – Do – Have, as stated in this quote:

“You’ve got to be before you can do, and do before you can have.” – Zig Ziglar

The idea is, that you’ve got to figure out who you want to Be before you Do. Once you know who you are Being, it’s time to start to figure out how to Do in a way that matches your Being. Take action from there, and once you Do from that place of Being, you will Have what you want and need.

Or so the theory goes anyway. And you know what, I kind of like that. Being grounded in who I am, how I want to show up in the world. Then anchoring all my actions in that, or at least try to. And you know what, the person I want to Be is a kind person, so whenever I stumble and fall in Doing, which I do all the time, I try to be gentle with myself. For me, that’s important, as that wasn’t part of who I used to be.

BoldomaticPost_Be-Do-Have-Zig-Ziglar

What do you want to Have?
What do you have to Do to get what you want to Have?
Who do you have to Be in order to Do that which will get you what you want to Have?

Where will you place your focus?

Please be gentle, I’m still learning

”Please be gentle, I’m still learning” Robbie Williams sings in the song Advertising Space. Imagine living approximately forty years before getting that. Forty years before understanding that if I’m not gentle with myself, much less learning takes place. 

If I associate learning with pain, with being chastised, told off, ”I should have known”:ed, do you think my system would be promoting and encouraging learning? 

No. It (I) will run the other way. Shut down, slowly, insights will be fewer and farther apart… or at least, they will be significantly more quiet, almost unaudible. The inner voice of wisdom, of universal mind, will be barricaded, by myself, by my self-preserving ego. The innervoice will be unwanted. Out of fear. Fear of the pain that comes with learning, which I’ve associated with pain, harshness. 

And that will only change once I begin to be gentle with myself. And I speak from personal experience when I say that being gentle with me, is a very off concept for one accustomed to being harsh. Realizing my internal harshness was one of the greatest aha-moments of my life, and what I saw was that it’s not mandatory to be my own harshest judge. Kindness, gentleness, is an option. Also for me. 

This insight has been with me since 2006-2007 sometime, and took place during a therapy session. Since then I’ve practiced being gentle with myself, och it’s something which comes more and more natural to me nowadays. And that’s be reverting back to being more fully me, because I I think it is our natural state. We’re born and created to be gentle with ourselves, otherwise we wouldn’t be the learning creatures that we are, from the very get go. 

Imagine a small child being harsh with herself for not immediately knowing how to walk, run, ride a bicycle. A child is naturally gentle with themselves, trying, failing, falling down, trying again, failing, falling down, trying again…. over and over until suddenly, one step is managed, then two, then all of a sudden, the child can walk, can run, ride a bike. 

What happens to us? Why do we – at least I – stop being gentle with ourselves, and rather start to be hard on ourselves? Is that why children are the greatest learners there is? Not because adults don’t have the capacity to learn, but because we’ve stopped being gentle with ourselves, we expect to get things right away, and we are afraid to try and fail. Because we’ve put another meaning on what it means to fail, than the child trying to learn how to walk, run, rida a bike. We believe it means we are bad, not good enough. While the child simply knows it means that the learning process is still unfolding, there’s more to learn, more to master, before the learning process has manifested into yet another skill. And somehow, adults impose their faulty understanding upon children, creating yet another harsh un-learner. What if we adults instead learned from children what it is we are born to be? Life long learners, where the only prerequisite is being gentle to ourselves.

Please be gentle, I’m still learning. Are you?