Remembering the Truth of Who You Are
Image by Olga Bast from Unsplash.
“We cannot do the work of world transformation without doing the inner work of transformation.” – Konda Mason
I didn’t plan to be writing this today.
I’ve been sitting in retreat over the past week, receiving teachings on mindfulness, meditation, and the intersection between spiritual practice and social justice. It was an intense journey across my inner landscape, and my intention was to gently integrate all those learnings this weekend.
Unsurprisingly, life had other plans.
When I emerged from retreat yesterday, the very first thing to greet me was a cascade of messages and texts regarding the US Supreme Court decision to overturn Roe v. Wade.
Talk about putting theory into practice.
I’d dedicated the entire week to exploring skillful means for showing up. For myself, and for the world. Learning new tools for staying with the confusion and pain this life can bring, and how to work with it.
So what did I do?
God's honest truth? I went numb.
I shut down. I disassociated. And I went to bed last night angry and afraid. Feeling helpless inside a storm that feels far too big for my humble little boat to navigate.
As I drifted toward a restless sleep, I just let myself feel it.
I told myself I was OK exactly as I was… perfect even… and that there’s also always room for improvement. (Or at least that’s what Jack Kornfield told us, and I admire him enough that I’ll try to believe it.)
This morning, I remembered the instructions Tara Brach gave us earlier this week during one of her teachings:
What is happening right now inside me?
What am I unwilling to feel?
Can I be with this?
How can I develop the capacity to STAY?
As I poked underneath my anger and fear, I noticed the story I was telling myself. It's an old one. The belief that I’m Not Enough, that nothing I do can ever be enough.
So I met that familiar belief with a technique I'd also been taught: I brought some tenderness to those feelings. I applied a heaping helping of self-compassion to settle my mind, so that I might actually reach some form of insight beyond the story.
Once I got resourced, I was able to access my curiosity. I wondered: What’s driving this feeling, that sense that I’m “not enough”?
The answer eventually came: Caring. Love. A deep longing for justice, and a world where all beings are free.
Oh, yes, this. I remember now! I know this beating heart. This love.
Love is the engine that drives so many of my actions. And this sensitivity sometimes also gets turned around. My monkey mind all too easily twists it into misunderstanding. Into separation, judgement, or fear.
Boy oh boy, can I get stuck there. That is, until I pause and find refuge inside myself. Until I find a way to come home to center.
Until I remember who I really am.
When I woke up from what Tara Brach calls this "trance of unworthiness," I savored. I sat for a moment in appreciation of my own capacity for love.
Once I was reconnected with my heart, I was able to sincerely ask myself: What next?
I remembered something another one of my teachers, Devin Berry, said this week that really stuck with me. He offered this quote from activist and philosopher Cornell West:
“Justice is what love looks like in public.”
Injustice shows us precisely where there's an absence of love in the world. It also points to where our hearts are needed.
Underneath fear, anger, frustration and grief, we discover our deepest values.
When it comes to applying the care and concern that we feel inside, action will naturally look different for each of us.
Sometimes, action can be as simple as just staying with what you're feeling. Exploring it with curiosity, and allowing your emotions to show you the truth of who you are.
Action also looks like resourcing yourself. Developing the capacity to self-sooth and nourish your heart, so that the tenderness you feel for the world can find its wisest form of outward expression.
What I’ve also learned is that this is really, really difficult to do alone.
It’s why the Buddhist path includes the concept of Sangha – a spiritual community to be held within. While on retreat this week, I was reminded again of the power of the Sangha. Even after many years of study and practice, I need these soul friends to help me remember the things I’m constantly forgetting.
Community helps me to remember the truth of who I am. Who we all are.
“To love a person is to learn the song that is in their heart and to sing it to them when they have forgotten.” ― Arne Garborg
I'm writing this today for one simple reason: to help sing anyone who may be reading this back home.
REMEMBER.
We are made of stardust. We are kindness, creativity, and magic. We are wisdom, generosity, and love.
We live in a world where it’s easy to forget these things.
That's one of the reasons I offer my Moon Circles. It’s a place to gather, to be held for a short while in community, and to recharge. Above all, it’s a space for us to pause inside our busy lives and remember. Remember who we are.
Together.
Today, I’m remembering in so many small ways. I’m pausing to feel the sun on my face, the wind in my hair. Placing a hand on my heart and repeating: “I am here. I am here. I am here.” Noticing how it feels to be alive inside this body, this fragile container that houses my soul. Remembering that while this world can be cruel and unjust, I still and always have sovereignty over my own mind.
In closing, I’d like to offer you Metta – a Buddhist prayer of loving-kindness:
May you be well.
May you be peaceful and at ease.
May you be safe.
May you be happy.
May all beings awaken and be free.
With love,
One last thing…
I’ve included links above to the teachers I was in practice with this past week: Tara Brach, Devin Berry, Konda Mason and Jack Kornfield. Each offers a wealth of resources and tools for navigating this human experience with greater ease and awareness.
This week was the kickoff for a mindfulness and meditation teacher training that I will be embarking upon with them over the next two years. I’m honored and inspired to be invited into such good company.
This is one element of Sangha for me – finding teachers, mentors, peers, and community that uplift and inspire me, so that I don’t fall into paralysis, numb out, or forget the truth of who I am. In the company of others, I discover more about my soul’s path than I ever could alone.
How about you?
If you’re in need of a soul friend to walk beside you as you navigate your soul’s path, I welcome you to join my enewsletter below or check out what I have to offer. If it resonates, feel free to schedule a complimentary call to explore how we might work together.