Tuesday, October 22, 2013

Free To Be (at Thirty Three)

“Life is not about waiting for the storm to pass. It is about learning to dance in the rain.” – Vivian Greene

Thirty-three was hands down the most transformative year for my inner self. I’ve had my own spiritual practice for years, but it wasn’t until reading Eckhart Tolle’s A New Earth that something major changed. Finally my spiritual and psychological beliefs could get along. My anxiety riddled self could finally exhale, knowing that I am not my thoughts, but the consciousness that is aware of those thoughts. I learned to better accept things as they are and to take responsibility for my outlook on life.

After a long period of anxiety and doubt over what to do with my life, I started to try new things. No, as it turns out, I could not think my way into my calling, I had to meet new people and have new experiences to discover what made my heart sing.

I began working part time at a mind body exercise studio, seeking like minded community. I began studying herbal medicine with an extraordinary, spiritual teacher. The universe nodded in agreement and shoved me into my own apartment, at what seemed like the most inopportune time for a move. But after three years of pushing and clawing and grinding away in New York City, I suddenly had my own space, a safe haven to…well, to cry, quite frankly. I cried so much in that first month, physically and emotionally exhausted, but feeling the loving embrace and protective spirit of my sanctuary and solitude.

The real work began in earnest as I meditated, exercised, did yoga, began an herbal medicine apprenticeship, and worked my way through several self-development books. One led to the next, and each author helped me see things in a new light. What would love do? Thoughts become things. We have the power to heal ourselves. In my basement apartment, my Zen Hut retreat, I really took a time out to do some deep healing and reflection. Feeling better and better, I was raring to go until a back injury stopped me in my tracks.

In hindsight, it was one of the best things that could’ve happened. Though I’d done a hefty amount of spiritual work on myself, I had yet to make friends with and really listen to my body. It has an intelligence of its own and is every bit a part of our divine nature as our consciousness. Because of my injury, I learned patience and discipline. I created a quiet morning practice that is now essential to me. I took a long hard look at patterns in my life and my overall health, realizing I needed to break cycles and start over, reconstructing from the ground up.

It all comes down to loving yourself. A nice thought, yes, but loving yourself is action. It is listening to your body and intuition. It’s knowing when to push and when to rest. It’s setting healthy boundaries so that, in personal relationships, you know what is your stuff and what is not. It is first putting on your own oxygen mask, so that you’re able help someone else.

And then, of course, the universe tests what you have learned, so that your spiritual muscles can grow. Two days before my 34th birthday, I received some harrowing news about a loved one’s health, and I had the wind knocked out of me. Life came into crystal clear focus. But in the midst of tears, losing sleep and heavy heartedness, I felt the peace of my strong center. The eye of the storm. A true knowing that, in the end, everything will be okay, that I can fall apart and come back together, that I can handle it. This was the first time I’d ever felt something like that.

Thirty-three was the year I stopped waiting for the storms to pass.

Thirty-three was the year I learned to dance in the rain.