Rooted in Your Light

I toggle back and forth between "everything happens for a reason" and "the brain likes to create pattern and meaning in everything and the significance of every moment is all self created". The former comes from a belief in some sort of higher knowing or power. The ladder comes from a knowledge of how the brain works; we see what we believe to be true. We live in a socially constructed reality.  Money has value because we all agree that it does. Feelings are real because we agree that happy, angry, sad, and awe exist and add value to our lives and ease our ability to relate to one another.

I want to believe that everything happens for a reason, that people and experiences come into our lives at the exact moment we need the the most.  They give us the most generous gift of seeing us when we feel invisible or hearing us when we feel like our voices don’t matter. They give us the gift of lessons learned.  When their moment is done, they leave and the world continues on. I want so badly for every chance meeting to carry with the significance of meant-to-be, of the universe orchestrating the life that’s unfolding. But I also want to believe in creating my own reality, in having a choice in every single moment of my life. 

As I move through the process of healing and growing, I have been confronted with a hard truth about the way I work.  I look for stability, for groundedness, for support, for substance, in the people and communities and experiences that exist outside of myself. While I’ve been trying to stitch myself back together, I keep finding that my needlework skills are lacking. What I’m doing is hoping that a piece of tape will hold all the broken parts of me together instead of addressing the root of the need for healing. 

People and experiences are meant to flow in and out of our lives.  They all have a season, admittedly some seasons are longer than others. So why would I continue to look for any sense of stability in the very things I know are not meant to last forever?  The two things that will always be there for me?  Me and this earth.  That’s it.  Those are the two things you can count on for the whole of your existence.  The ground will always be there.  You will always be there.  You have been there from the beginning.  You will be there until the end.  

 I am very much a believer that things happening energetically in the body show up in a physical way. It’s an illusion that all these different parts of us, mind/body/spirit, are separate and have no influence on other.  When you hurt your body, you hurt your heart.  When you hurt your mind, you hurt your body. About three weeks ago, I got a pretty bad injury in my right hip/inner thigh.  Looking back, it makes sense.  I’m training for a half marathon on May 19th.  I’ve been filling my life with training and people and work and events and teaching. I’ve literally and figuratively been running myself into the ground.  Not uncommon for me. All of the running and moving and doing has beeen a way to avoid the feeling of instability.  If I don’t stop moving, I won’t have any awareness that the ground feels like it’s crumbling beneath my feet. 

But this week, I stopped.  This week, I fell apart.  I crumbled because there was nowhere else to run.  There was no one left to hold me up.  It was just me. In my alone-ness, I didn’t know how to be my own support. I thought I was showing up for myself.  I thought I was standing in my worth. I thought I was advocating for me and building a strong foundation within my own heart. Perhaps I was, but as I change and grow and evolve, I realize now that I must also revisit finding ground inside of me. I couldn’t run.  I couldn’t practice yoga. These two movement practices offer me grounding far more than anything else in my life. Those external tools were taken away from me and I was left in stillness; I felt so empty, so worthless, so ungrounded. I forced myself to sit inside of uncomfortable stillness and listen to the loud thoughts swirling around. Expectations, judgements, actions. Instances of being told that I didn’t matter, that my thoughts and experiences were less valuable, that I was less valuable, that the knowledge I possess was not worth a moment or a pause.  All of this information I perceive as coming from the outside.  

More than a body, who are you? More than a prescribed public identity, who are you?  More than a mom, a sister, a friend, a partner, a boss babe, who are you?  Inside of each of us, there is a little light.  It is the core of who we are. Most of us have learned to hide it, or dim it, because the rest of the world is afraid of people that shine brightly. Some of us are even afraid of our own brightness. But, if you’re looking to find that sense of rootedness inside of yourself, this is the place to start. That light. What do you believe in? What is your true purpose and passion? What I’m finding is that this idea of being my own source of groundedness has less to do with external practices, external people, external circumstances, and has much more to do with whether or not I am living in alignment with my truth. All of this outside stuff?  It’s not me.  Get rooted in who you are.  Make all choices from that place.  Do that, show up for yourself from that place, and moment by moment, choice by choice, you create stability with and for yourself.