The pattern of choosing to love the wrong person

Tags

Choosing to love the wrong person, Enter your zip code here, Heart, Love, low self-esteem, patterns, protection, safety

I’ve written about this a little already, but I thought I’d expand on the topic. Be prepared, coz this post is a long ‘un.

Choosing to love the wrong person is something we humans do when we feel the need to protect ourselves: weirdly, we pick the wrong person on purpose.

It’s meant to be a way of keeping our hearts safe from future emotional devastation. But it’s a trap. It only works for so long, if it ever really works at all.

My theory is that it’s the mind’s way of doing what it thinks needs to be done to protect that pesky heart that’s always getting hurt and causing a world of pain for the rest of the body.

But we all know what happens when the mind gets involved in matters of the heart, right? Hint: it usually stuffs things up, no matter how well meaning.

The twisted protection logic goes something like this: if I’m with someone I don’t/can’t really love because they aren’t the right person for me, then I can’t have my heart broken because I’ll never really love them. There’ll always be space between my heart and this person, and so I’m Safe.

If you’ve been hurt before – in that everything fallen apart, life ceases to have any meaning kind of way – then it seems like a sensible idea in theory, right?

Except it’s not.

I can trace the development of this pattern back to the failure of three relationships in a row from my early-to-late 20’s: three men I loved who didn’t love me back.

Although I suspect the groundwork for the pattern was there long before that.

Anyway, I’m pretty sure by the time the third relationship blew up in my face, my heart was broken in a fundamental way. Like, engine fallen out of the car kinda thing.

Let me share some back story on these three loves of mine, then…

Love #1

Was my fiancé. We met when I was twenty-four and he in his late thirties. I suspect my idea of relationships was already a bit warped. I mean, take a highly repressed and aloof father, a physically and verbally abusive brother, chronically low self-esteem, a terrible first boyfriend, an abortion, and a whole heap of other issues never written about here… my ability to choose the right man to marry was already impaired.

Back then, I was attracted to older men. Men I thought could teach me something. Little did I know what I was really looking for was an honest-to-goodness teacher, but that’s another story.

I’d conflated the idea of a romantic partner with someone I could trust as a teacher. And back then, my standard modus operandi with men was to throw my power at them. To inhabit their life and let them be in charge.

My fiancé btw, was a good and honourable man. Really. I’d thought we’d marry and have kids and be together forever.

But he was just as confused and lost in his own ways as I was. By the time our relationship entered its third year, it was no longer the force of nature it’d once been, and he pulled away from me. Which of course, triggered my paranoia, insecurities and low self esteem.

These days I suspect that things ended because he was no longer “in charge” in the way I needed. Which meant the guy I’d been throwing my power at wasn’t doing what I needed him to do. By the time I was ready to leave, my heart had bled all the tears it’d held and there was no way across the chasm that’d grown between my fiancé and me.

So he became my ex-fiancé.

Love #2

Waiting in the wings was another man. The second ill-fated love of mine and a mutual friend of mine and Love #1.

In retrospect, it’s not surprising to me that he was in fact, a teacher. Not this teacher, but the person who introduced me to him. He also taught martial arts.

Oh look, how perfect! Someone big and strong AND an actual teacher that I could offer myself to on a platter. Which is exactly what I did.

Having leapt from one relationship to another, I was amazed at how different things were. I chastised myself for almost settling for much less, and I proceeded to fall hard. Harder perhaps, because now I was *sure* that this was The One. Someone much more suited to me.

Except. He had a binge drinking problem. I was sure I could “help” him with that.

And. In the end, he didn’t want me the way I wanted him.

He was honest about this important detail eventually, but I wanted him so much that I ignored that fact and let the relationship carry on anyway. He didn’t exactly say no. Not very often anyway.

It was off and on, passionate, sexy, dangerous and highly destructive to my sense of self. For eighteen months. I had counselling in my attempts to resist him.

When it finally, absolutely ended for the last time, I hit rock bottom. It was very ugly. Crazily, I even intentionally got myself into a fight and let a group of girls beat me up (it didn’t hurt as much as my broken heart).

Then I went overseas, as an absolute raving mess. I had fun, visited far-flung places and came back feeling more together than I had been in a while. I even went to my first Ayurvedic doctor and stated to turn my health around.

With better health, came a better state of mind…

Love #3

Which is when I met the next guy, via online dating. Which I was only trying because Love #2 had started doing it, and I was actually there to stalk his profile. When was he last on? Who was he talking to?! Ha, so sad and pathetic.

Anyway, out of that came a welcome surprise in the form of an email from someone very interesting.

If Loves #1 and #2 had bowled me over, I wasn’t prepared in any way for Love #3. He was around my age (the first one in a long time who was), gorgeous, intelligent, gentle, charming, sweet and genuine.

We shared many things in common and the attraction was mutual and instantaneous. On our second date, we both agreed the line “where have you been all my life?” was appropriate for us.

True to form, I let myself fall in love quickly and deeply. This time I was VERY SURE I’d met The One. It had to be, right? I’d had two (three actually), terrible and failed relationships only to meet my knight in shining armour, with his sunny demeanour and adventurous nature.

He was so attentive, calm and wonderful. He’d Christmas with his relatives in Canberra and then drove to Melbourne to pick me up from my parents’ place so we could slowly 4WD our way back to Sydney. We had New Year’s in Jindabyne and I was so happy.

Until January, when he took me to see Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon and ever-so-respectfully dumped me. In public, so I couldn’t cause a scene. He wanted to be friends however – really wanted it – and in fact, we are good friends to this day.

But for an entire week after he dumped me, I felt myself shutting down. I was quietly sad. Despairing. I couldn’t imagine someone more perfect for me (or so I thought) than Love #3. I couldn’t believe my rotten luck and I’d no idea what was so wrong with me that no one wanted to be with me.

My heart, I’m pretty sure, was packed up neatly into a shuttered wooden box. Surrounded by layers of bubble wrap and duct tape.

It’s good, they say, to be friends with your exes. This is sort of both true and false. True, because people you’ve loved (and who’ve loved you back) are still in your life. False, because unless you’re the one doing the dumping, there’s a good chance you’ll still be in love with them and wanting more than they can give.

I was in love with Love #3 for years, and most of that time I was in denial about it. I analysed his every word and action even as we hung out (skiing, motorbike riding, camping, 4WD-ing, hanging out with friends who declared we looked like a couple). Even as we took more long cross-country trips together.

Neither of us dated, and we might as well have been together except for the lack of sex.

It drove me crazy. Why? WHY? Why didn’t he want to be my boyfriend?!

Eventually I started dating again. However, Love #3 and I still hung out AND I was still hung up.

THIS was the beginning of choosing men I had no chance of falling for…

It wasn’t conscious, not entirely anyway. It was a survival mechanism. My mind overrode my heart because it knew I couldn’t withstand any more heartache.

And so I continued… the loser friend of my cousin’s boyfriend; the weird Persian student; the sweet guy I was never into; the tall, dufus-y baseball player; the dorky ex-air force guy who insisted on a relationship I never wanted…

And then this guy.

Which is one of the problems, with this whole “protection of the heart” pattern, no?

Not only do you end up wasting your time and the time of the people you date when you should’ve said no… but one of them could turn out to be a secret sociopath with a penchant for hitting women.

And, because you’ve been busily tuning out your instincts about who you should be with, you lose the connection to that gut feel which tells you NO.

So you miss it, and you’re unprepared. And then your world breaks into tiny little pieces.

Which is really just the Universe presenting a wake up call to you in the strongest possible language. Because there’s only so far you can go while wilfully ignoring your own path in life.

And being with the wrong person is DEFINITELY ignoring your own path.

It’s taken me all these years to piece this understanding together. Of what happened and how things got to where they did…

And now I’m doing what I can to undo this pattern. Which isn’t as easy as it sounds.

For the longest time, I simply didn’t want a boyfriend. Until I did. But even then, men remained scary.

Actually, men I have no interest in romantically were and are fine.

But liking a guy and wondering if he might like me back? A massive risk. Terrifying, even. Something that until fairly recently, left me feeling disempowered, goofy and maybe all of thirteen, all over again.

Around cute guys, I still feel like a kid with no social skills but like many things in my life, I relate this re-learning curve to yoga.

Specifically, to something I often tell my students:

You’ll never be able to do the poses you find difficult if you never do them. So practice and enjoy them, even when they aren’t perfect. Even when you fall over. Because one day something will change and you’ll find yourself able to do the thing you told yourself you never could. All because you kept up your practice.

So right now? I’m practicing. Flirting. Confidence. Noticing when men notice me. Noticing men and not feeling shy about it. Being able to be attracted to men without losing all sense of reason. Making eye contact and holding steady.

~Svasti

Review: Kerry Belvisio’s Self Alignment Kit – part II

Tags

alignment, Anxiety, calmness, career, chakra cards, FREAKING THE FRACK OUT, Kerry Belvisio, Kinesiology, Love, Money, Negativity, peace, self alignment, Self-Alignment Kit, space, speaking truth, survival

[Read part I first]

Part II of this review is where I tell you all about what I did Sunday night for my first time using the Self-Alignment Kit!

Personally right now I’ve been pretty stressed about my impending potential unemployment.

You know… right before Christmas (spendy and not a great time to be looking for work!). Right before my fully paid for holiday (yikes!). No partner or anyone else I might be able to lean on for support (physically, emotionally, financially etc etc).

Freaking scary, let me tell you! But also, I’ve been in this place before. For months, actually. And the thought of going through that again scares me silly.

So I thought I’d try to get some self-alignment happening around all of this. Because if I can get rid of some of the anxiety/negativity/blurry vision around my work situation, that has to be a good thing, right?

Working the process to get aligned

So I read the workbook first (as recommended), then printed off a worksheet. You use a new worksheet each time you want to get aligned with one of your goals.

The first thing the worksheet asks you to do is to work out your area of focus.

For me right now, that’s easy: Money. Career.

The next question is about how you feel about those things. Haha. I wrote: Scared. Upset. Freaked out.

Then, there’s the process of figuring out your goal for this particular session. The workbook has lots of helpful hints and even some suggestions around common topics like love, career, family etc, that you can adapt for your own purposes.

My goal is around securing a stable and well-paying job in the immediate future.

Then comes the fun part. I had printed out but not yet cut up my chakra cards.

A sample of some of the dozens of chakra cards in the kit

So part of this first time around was cutting them into their little coloured squares and messing up the order, shuffling them with intent and so on.

I did an extremely thorough job of said shuffling, then spread them out on my desk to choose one.

With my eyes closed.

Hands over the cards, feeling for a hotspot.

And which card do you think came up?

Yep…

At which I rolled my eyes, because DUH!

This whole thyroid/Hashimoto’s deal is about EXACTLY THIS.

Kerry wisely counsels: Assume that the first card you choose is the RIGHT card. Otherwise you might miss something important.

Smart cookie, that Kerry.

Because otherwise I might’ve done just that, thinking that “speaking truth” was just too obvious for me. And also too “big” for this career/money goal I was focusing on.

So I decided to trust the process, and was pleasantly surprised by what came up. I kept working through the questions on the worksheet and here’s what I figured out…

Speaking the truth about my current line of work is somewhat precarious. Obviously I don’t want to tell a potential employer that I’m only in it for the money until I get to the point where I can quit (for my excellently awesome future life plans).

BUT. Then I asked myself…

- Am I being truthful about what I will and won’t accept in this interim (meaning, “for now”) work I’m doing?

- Am I setting expectations with potential employers that honour and support my needs, while still doing the best job I can?

- Am I just copping out with how I’m viewing this interim work and therefore creating a rod for my own back? (i.e. “suffering” through things I don’t want to do, making life less enjoyable)

- Could I really be making more of this time, and with this interim work?

Hmmmm. Then I figured out the following truths:

• I know, of course, that the work I’m doing right now is not how I ultimately want to be earning money.
• But I’ve been treating it all as very much just a means to an end.
• I’ve allowed myself to take jobs that pay well, but haven’t necessarily allowed me to feel fulfilled or satisfied at all.
• But it doesn’t have to be that way. Even though I don’t really want to be doing this kind of work forever, I CAN find employment that allows me some job satisfaction.
• Doing this work is certainly a means to an end, but it doesn’t have to be just about financial survival.
• Oh wow… look at that.
  Here I am using the word “survival”, which has been the mode I’ve functioned in for the last 5 or 6 years.
  I-n-t-e-r-e-s-t-i-n-g…

So at the end of the process (which can be as short or long as you like!), I found myself writing the following:

• I don’t have to take just any job.
• The job I am offered will meet my physical, financial AND spiritual needs (somehow!)
• I can find people and lessons in this work I don’t want to be doing forever – these people or learnings will be of benefit to me in the future, even if I don’t know it now.

Which left me feeling… a little less panicked and overwhelmed.

Which created a little more space and calmness – as opposed to the FREAKING THE FRACK OUT that I had been doing.

A day later, I’m still feeling positive and calm.

I have an interview lined up for tomorrow at lunchtime, and I feel confident that I’m coming from the right place in assessing whether or not it will be the right job for me.

All in all I’m in a much happier place than I was last week, even though I’m closer than ever to potential unemployment.

Like the Self-Alignment Kit? Use this discount code!

Kerry has kindly offered readers of this blog a 15% discount.

Hooray for discounts!

So instead of AUD $59, you’ll pay AUD $50.15 – which is excellent value for something you can re-use time and time again.

Just enter this code when you order: imwithsvasti

Thanks, Kerry!

Timing is everything, and this little gift of the Self-Alignment Kit has been very timely indeed. I can’t tell you how much I value your support and love.

~~~~~~

Wishing you all peace, love and alignment, peeps.

~ Svasti xxx

My love for you is a flat screen TV

Tags

Anger, concrete, flat screen TV, Forgiveness, highly sensitive person, Kinesiology, Love, Repression, thyroid, unicorn sightings

Forgiveness. I’ve written about it before, both in terms of forgiving myself and others. For ages it was a very nice concept but like the top shelf in your wardrobe, out of reach. Seems that understanding how to forgive is about as elusive as unicorn sightings.

I’ve worked out why though. It’s because forgiveness isn’t so much about getting over stuff that’s happened. Instead it’s about seeing things as they really are. Like, really. Down to the bones, with no elaborations.

Like a lot of the work I’m doing lately, it’s all been going down on the kinesiology table. That’s where I was when I saw for myself how it’s always been and why.

A few weeks ago, I lay there on the treatment table staring wide-eyed and open-mouthed at my kinesiologist. Joining the dots and dropping pennies in slots.

Fuck! So THAT’S why I’ve never been able to forgive my parents for anything, my whole life!

Clarity provides space and understanding and suddenly forgiveness isn’t even an issue any more.

So what happened, I hear you ask? Something came up in that session around the idea of “feeling overlooked and betrayed”. Immediately I knew this was OLD. Sure enough, back we went (back… back… back) and further again, to four year old me.

What do I recall about being four? Not much really. I was in kindergarten, I guess. I remember painting, the sandpit, story time, and the room with the hooks for our wee bags. The odd flash of kindergarten kid faces. My sister was two, my brother was six. This represents the sum total of my conscious four year old knowledge and memories.

But the conscious mind knows jack-shit sometimes, yeah?

Without a doubt, I’m what they call a highly sensitive person.

Highly sensitive people are born with fewer filters between themselves and the world than “regular” people-types. We feel everything more intensely. Our highs and lows are more extreme because that’s the way we’re built. There’s nothing wrong with us. It’s just a slightly different way of being.

For example, today the fact that I live in a place where there’s too much concrete was causing me a great deal of pain. Yeah, I know. It sounds stupid, right? But a lot of creative types are like this, and I suspect most people with mental health problems are, too.

My parents are NOT highly sensitive. A thousand and one times while growing up, I was labelled “too sensitive/emotional” and made to feel as though my reactions and experiences weren’t acceptable.

What I learned in my kinesiology session is that four year old me was both enraged and deeply saddened at being overlooked like this. At having her feelings belittled and constantly being told she was “too much”.

That rage? I’m pretty sure it’s fuelled all the anger I’ve ever felt in this lifetime.

The way my parents dealt with me must’ve been similar to what they told me about how they deal with my eldest niece. She’s like me – extra-sensitive – and to my horror, they calmly explained how they tell her “don’t be so silly”, or to “shake it off” when she’s “in a mood”. I saw major red flags right there, both for myself and my niece (I’ve had words with my sister since then)!

Of course, I was born to a mother who began grieving for my stolen half-brother way before I was born and a father who is so emotionally shut down that he remains a mystery to me, even today.

Knowing all of this, and working on my shit with kinesiology allowed thirty-nine year old me and four year old me to put all the pieces together. We finally got it!

Four-year-old me never felt acceptable just as she was and this set the stage for feeling like an alien pretty much my whole damn life.

My parents, despite their own emotionally crippled natures, did the best they could (I know – such a cliché right?). They never meant to wound me the way that they did. They didn’t know any better. However, that four year old girl has been seething in anger ever since.

Until now.

I was telling my neighbour about this and she asked – so how do you let something like that go? It’s like this: seeing things clearly and getting kinesiology work done just clears it the heck out.

This has allowed me to transform my relationship with my parents. No, we’re not best buddies all the sudden but I find I’m just not triggered by their actions the way I used to be. Even my sister has noticed the difference.

My folks don’t really do “I love you”. They also don’t do love and caring the way I do. They’re not so much into affection or the cooking of meals or the offering of lifts – the sort of practical things that would’ve been so beneficial to me when I was very sick earlier this year, not to mention all of the years I lived in PTSD-landia.

Instead, they’ll do stuff like give me a flat screen TV.

Yep. You heard that right. I might not see or hear from them for weeks or months, but I’m the first person they thought of when they wanted to off-load their old (but not actually that old) one; they’ve bought a monster-sized replacement (looking at their new TV makes my brain dizzy).

It should be said that spending money on a TV is possibly one of the lowest priorities in my life. But the gift was welcome enough, if only because I now watch DVDs on a better screen.

If this was a different time in my life I’d be cynical and bitter about inappropriate gift giving instead of more useful and supportive actions.

Now, I just see it for what it is: its love.

A few weeks back they also gave me their old digital video camera and I couldn’t really turn it down because I get that it’s their way of showing me they care in lieu of hugs or conversations.

And I’m good with that.

As my thyroid heals, so do many other things. After all, our minds, immune system, physical body, our sense of well-being – none of it is separate.

~ Svasti

Chronic Yogi interview: Christine Claire Reed

Tags

Anxiety, Bessel von der Kolk, BlissChick, body dysmorphia, Borderline personality, Christine Claire Reed, chronic abuse, Chronic Grief, chronic pain, Complex PTSD, curiosity, dancer, Depression, disordered eating, Erich Schiffmann, Fibromyalgia, healing movement, IBS, Kundalini yoga, Love, migraines, Peter Levine, self-judgment, singing bowls, stubbornness, Trauma, trauma release, writer, Yoga, Yoga Dance

Are you ready, folks? This is a loooong one, but worth the read. Grab yourself a cuppa and settle in!

~ / \ ~

Name: Christine Claire Reed (aka BlissChick)

Bio: I am a healing movement instructor, dancer, and writer, who finally has the tools to consciously keep in check the former primacy of depression, anxiety, and disordered eating in my life.

How long have you been a student of yoga? And how long have you been teaching?

I started doing yoga about 16 years ago for a very typical reason — I needed to calm down. I suffered from debilitating despression, anxiety, and many-times-a-month migraines.

I knew intuitively at that point that it would be first through my physical self that healing would come. I started with Iyengar and spent time delving into many schools, including Integral, Kripalu, Vinyassa, Ashtanga…you name it and I probably experimented with it at some point. About 9 years ago, I found and fell in total love with Kundalini.

I am now 43 years old and am finally seeing the fruits of those initial efforts, but most of my healing has come through creative movement and healing dance…which would have never been possible if I had not started to study yoga.

I have been teaching for about a year and a half.

What sort of yoga do you teach?

Currently, I teach intuitive dance based on the principles of yoga dance, the 5 rhythms, and an array of other modalities. I also teach a mixed class that relies heavily on Kundalini yoga.

Which form of chronic illness do you live with? When were you first diagnosed?

Oh, my…I think my most accurate diagnosis would be Chronic Grief. Yes. That covers it all.

There is no formal diagnostic protocol for living with and being neurologically-biologically changed by chronic abuse, being surrounded from the time you were born with the anger and violence of the two people who were meant to care for you. To try to put someone like this into a diagnostic box proves almost impossible, as I have found out over the years.

Some people would like to call me Borderline and that is not helpful at all. Children raised like I was often exhibit those characteristics but we most likely just learned those behaviors and are not actually Borderline in the sense of having psychoses.

Complex PTSD comes the closest but then there was no classically definable trauma but instead a string of sometimes daily traumatizing factors.

Physically I am quite certain many physicians would say I suffer from Fibromyalgia due to my (previous) chronic pain issues, exhaustion, etc.

Yes, I like “Chronic Grief.” Over the last two years of my life, I have come to a much healthier and happier version of myself, but I definitely still have times of struggle.

Now though, since I have the tools that I need, I am able to turn those times of struggle rather quickly into breakthroughs.

What sort of symptoms do you experience? Is there a known cure for your condition?

My symptoms over my life have been varied. As I mentioned, there has always been chronic pain. It changes and even now I can relapse but the more I MOVE, the better I feel. Period. I have to move at least 2 hours a day. Seriously move, as in sweat and exert.

I have gone through periods of disordered eating, and now because I dance, I know I have to eat well, so that was like an instant cure. I still have body dysmorphia issues, but I just take off my glasses while I dance through times like that and soon I am back in my real body. (HA!) Depression has been managed pretty thoroughly with gluten free eating. Anxiety is no match for Kundalini Yoga. Over the last twenty years, I have gotten rid of (for the most part): IBS, severe migraines, and not-able-to-walk-needing-a-cortisone-shot hip issues.

Chronic Grief = total mess. Really. When I was recently at a trauma workshop with world-renowned trauma psychiatrist and research scientist, Bessel von der Kolk, he said over and over that children of chronic abuse are a mystery to him in terms of how to help. That we are so basically changed by the chronic nature of our traumas. He said for a person to maintain curiosity about their internal lives (which is essential for healing) after a childhood like this is the sign of an extraordinary intelligence.

Though that was hard to hear (he kept saying that healing rates are rather low for people like me), it was also really affirming, because I HAVE maintained that necessary curiosity. In a recent interview when I was asked what I thought was THE THING people needed to heal, I answered with “curiosity about themselves,” and this was before the workshop.

I don’t know why I have been lucky enough to have that gift in my life, but I am thankful for it every single day.

Did you start teaching yoga before or after you got sick?

After, obviously. I have lived with all of this my whole life. Teaching has been such a gift. The energy exchange that happens between students and teacher is a healing balm for all of us, isn’t it? And I find myself feeling accountable to my students — like I have to do better for them!

If you got sick THEN started teaching yoga, what was going through your mind when you applied for yoga teacher training? Was your YTT impacted by your illness?

When I returned to dance at 40, I knew my life was either going to change right then and there or I was forever to remain stuck in illness. I opted for the change, and I knew for that to really STICK, I had to make some radically different choices.

So I immediately looked for any sort of training I could commit to and challenge myself with. I was lucky enough to stumble upon a Yoga Dance teacher training at Kripalu, and I signed up and paid right away so that there was no backing out. It was the scariest thing I had ever done, but I just walked through one fear after another to get there. I am stubborn like that.

My teacher training was a deeply emotional time for me. It was a time when I was witnessed as a dancer in more ways than I can possibly cover here. It was a re-birth.

I was also lucky enough to meet one of my main mentors in this life, Megha Buttenheim, who still guides me with her love and care.

Have you ever thought of quitting your teaching because of your health?

YES! There are times when I am feeling so awful that I am convinced that I am nothing but a fraud and that my students deserve the “real thing.”

Marcy (Ed: Christine’s partner) reminds me that my hard times are exactly what makes me that “real thing.” She is right. Many of my students tell me that I am their true teacher because I am so up front and honest about my struggles.

Have you ever shared your health condition with your students? If so, what happened? Has anyone ever reacted negatively?

No one has EVER reacted negatively. When I “confess” about difficulties to my students, there is a palpable sense of relief in the room.

It is important for people to see the weaknesses and vulnerabilities in others and especially in teachers. I use my own struggles as examples all the time and it is inevitable that someone (usually more than one someone) says, “Thank you for telling us that. I feel that way all the time and think I am the only one…”

Can you tell us a little more about how this kind of sharing works in your classes?

I usually talk about things like this at the very beginning of class so we can have a few minutes of contemplation and even quick little conversations before beginning with breath awareness, during which I then follow up with a suggestion for, perhaps, something they can hold in their hearts during class, a filter through which they can “listen” to their bodies for messages, information, stuff that needs to come up, answers to questions they’ve been having in their own lives.  When I tell stories like this, they are great at book-ending the class, creating another level of meaning to the work we do.

The stories I tell are always from my immediate life.  And they just happen.  I rarely go to class with the intention of talking about something specific. I show up and trust that I will know what needs to be said.  Erich Schiffmann talked at a workshop I was at about how it took him 20 years to get to the point where he could just go to a class with no notes, no topics in mind. This really startled me, because I have done this from the beginning (but I do have many years under my belt of teaching critical thinking and creative writing). I might take a quote with me but have no idea what else I am going to say.

For example, I might tell them that because of serious abandonment fears, I can get triggered by the most harmless things… like Marcy wanting to have a beer date with a friend. Totally NORMAL! But I can feel my fear monsters just rear their ugly heads, and before I know it, I am acting ridiculously angry and jealous.  BUT…I have come far enough to SEE it and so I know I just need to dance and get back in my body so that I can remember that I am reacting to my present out of my past.

After a story like that, there are a lot of out breaths and giggles.  So many people…especially people coming to Kundalini yoga who are obviously seeking something…they just need to know they are not totally wacko and alone and that they are actually quite normal in their…unhealthy or unproductive ways of responding to their feelings.

Then during breath awareness, I will direct them to be aware of any anxiety or tightness in their own bodies that was elicited during my story. During class, I would encourage them to be aware that their own stories might start popping up and that they can say, “HEY! There you are…” and just keep breathing.

I also have a free movement segment in all of my classes, regardless of what I am teaching, and toward the end of that, I direct them through a stomping, shaking, jumping routine that is based on Peter Levine’s work with trauma release. By this point in the class, they are usually already pretty “clear” but I do this to make sure they leave feeling free and emotionally flexible and strong.

Does your health ever affect they way you sequence or run your classes? (e.g. time of day, how you have your needs met before/during/after a class etc)

Mostly I have to be careful about how much I teach (I teach many classes a week but need lots of down time), and I have quit teaching gigs when I am uncomfortable in the environment. The way a place feels to me is very important, and if I am uncomfortable, I know I am not giving my all to those students. (Ed: this is pretty much good advice for all teachers!)

Other than that, I find the more I trust myself to teach what needs to be taught, the better my classes are. I rarely rely on my “plan” at this point.  I also have found that if I am in need of a certain type of class, that it most likely will resonate with the students. There is an amazing energy connection and synchronicity if we trust ourselves to tap into it.

It’s a bit of a “DOH!” question, but do you think your own practice and/or teaching have helped your health stabilise or even improve? Which part of your yoga practice helps you the most and specifically, in what ways does it help?

The biggest thing for me is that my own witness consciousness has expanded exponentially since I started to teach. I am able to watch myself and “see” what is happening with my mind/body now on a much deeper level, and my witness self kicks in much faster than ever before. I find I have become highly attuned to seeing the emotional state of my students in their bodies. That has been thrilling and again has rippled over into my ability to do this for myself.

I find, too, that I am able to find previously debilitating issues that would have led to self-judgment rather fascinating now. Like I am my own research subject now that I have students to share the findings with.

Also, as someone who used to sequester herself when she was having an extra hard time, I can no longer do that. I have a class six days of the week. I have to get myself together to meet my students and be open to their needs. This pushes me in very positive ways. I can’t sit in my own crap for very long any more.

Chronic illnesses can be very frustrating. Do/did you ever feel angry about your diagnosis? How does it impact your own yoga practice and your life in general?

I can feel quite angry. I feel angry that the way most of us are raised impacts us in such negative ways. I feel angry that violence in the home is a silent epidemic that culturally we refuse to acknowledge and that it then changes the person you were born to be. I get angry that we then have to work so damn hard on such basic things just to maybe some day get back to being that essential person/soul/heart. I get angry that so many people never ever get better and that they live their lives sad, stuck, never fulfilling their beautiful, powerful potential.

I get angry, yes, and it is the very reason I do this work.

Have you experienced any “dark night of the soul” moments/hours/days in dealing with your illness? What got you through?

Love got me through. My own stubbornness got me through.

There were many days and weeks and months of my life where I was not sure I wanted to continue to live, and yet I pushed forward. I am essentially an optimistic person, I have come to learn. I kept going; I kept searching; I kept doing the work. My will power and determination — two things that I was told I did not even possess!! — are incredible.

There are still days that the symptoms of “Chronic Grief” are overpowering. There are still days when the best I can do is get through that day in one piece. On those days, I can feel like a total loser for not being someone who can power through a giant To-Do list, for not being “normal.”

But I am learning that it is those days that are my biggest winner days, because I do NOT give up, I DO make it, and I LOOK FORWARD to the possibility that the next day holds.

From your yoga practice and studies, what sort of outlook do you have regarding your health?

My outlook is super sunny!

Through Kundalini yoga and dance, I have come to taste and know my own internal resources of power, courage, and beauty.

When I am dancing, I know 100% for sure that I am a piece of the eternal, the infinite in a skin suit. I am the universe exploding through this skin. I get stronger, fitter, more balanced, more creative, happier, more playful, more joyful every single day, and I know that will only be increasing.

How do you manage your health? With western medicine, eastern medicine, alternative therapies or a combination of them all? What one thing helps you the most?

Western medicine has never been helpful for me. Even with my migraines, the medicines that were tried on me did not help and usually made me feel worse. With depression and anxiety, the mix of pills they tried me on, created side effects that were worse than the “illness.”

I do not think Western medicine has anything to offer Chronic Grief, and I do believe with all my heart that the majority of people diagnosed with ANY “mental illness” are actually suffering from Chronic Grief (Ed: even people who don’t have a “mental illness” I reckon!).

They need to speak their grief; they need the grief acknowledged; they need to be told they are amazing for being so strong that they are still alive; and then they need to be helped back into their bodies and thus back into their lives.

I have used some alternative therapies, but it has mostly been telling my story and now dancing it out that has created my health.

Currently, my main self-care method is going to an energy healer every few weeks who does incredible mind-blowing energy work and using singing bowls to create vibrational reactions in my very cells and in my spirit. She cleans me out!

Is there anything else I haven’t asked you, but that you’d like to add?

If I could emphasize one thing here, I would BEG people…no matter your symptoms…to be truthful about your story and not let anyone tell you it is insignificant and to MOVE YOUR BODY. We were made to MOVE. Dancing is in our DNA. Ecstatic, sweating, giggling movement will change your soul and heal your life. I PROMISE.

Where you can find Christine

Blog: BlissChick

Social media:

~ / \ ~

Christine – I really like your definition of Chronic Grief. I too, think grief underlies the discontent and unhappiness that many people feel. Something I’ve been coming to terms with lately is that no matter how small you think something might be, if it matters to you, then it matters. Also, the more we cram our emotions down deep inside for fear of their escape, the less likely we are to be happy and healthy. For healing to really happen, we really DO need to be honest with ourselves and tell our stories. So thank you for your wonderful words and for sharing so much with us here!!

If you have any questions for Christine, let her know in the comments.

Read other Chronic Yogi interviews

Get some more goodness from other inspiring yoga teachers.

They’re indexed right here.

Are you a Chronic Yogi?

If you are and you’d like to participate in this interview series read my criteria, and email me and/or let me know in the comments. Your voice is more than welcome!

~ Svasti xx

A serving of help with a side of reflection

Tags

abundance, cats, Community, Depression, exhaustion, Generosity, gratitude, Hashimoto’s, Love, neighbours, PTSD, Support

A tricky thing for semi-wild/semi-tame creatures like me is letting people in. I wasn’t socialised that way, and for all of my longings for lots of friends and a connected network… well, it’s a two-way street isn’t it?

You see, it’s not just about give and take. It’s that you have to be okay with receiving: accepting what’s offered, free of charge.

Like many people, I had to learn that generosity helps keep the world turning. Our culture is one of consumption and usage and fulfilling our needs. Our own personal needs, that is. Not all families teach their kids about generosity to those outside their family. Mine sure didn’t.

So I’ll admit it: I used to be stingy. For example, many years ago, I used to feel hard done by if I was out for dinner with a bunch of people and my meal cost less than everyone else’s and yet I was expected to pay the same amount as others. I haven’t been that way for a long time now. I give away money, food, clothes and I’ll pick up the dinner tab for me and my friends if I can afford to.

My yoga studies and being around my Guru changed my self-centered feelings of lack, into generosity. Through demonstrations of compassion, sharing, love and giving, thankfully I learned that abundance comes from sharing what you have.

But allowing others to be of service to me (when I’m not paying for it) is something I’m still learning.

A little while ago I asked the universe for a helping hand, because thanks to Hashimoto’s I struggle like a mo-fo with my energy levels sometimes.

It can be exceptionally difficult to get out of bed, but not in an: oh it’s Monday and I don’t wanna go to work, kind of way. What I mean is that it’s physically difficult because I’m exhausted down to my bones.

This means things like taking the rubbish out, doing the dishes, cooking meals and so on, are challenging.

Even though I asked for help somewhat whimsically, I knew I was asking for something I genuinely need. I’d no idea where it’d come from or even if it would.

But it did!!

Little did I realise it’d be my neighbour. I live at on the ground floor at the back of a deep block of apartments. She lives at the front.

By some strange twist in my itinerant lifestyle, I’ve been living in the same apartment for over 2½ years now. For me, that’s seriously some kind of personal best. It’s possibly the longest I’ve lived in one place since I was eighteen.

Anyway, my neighbour and I have little chats whenever we happen to see each other. She has a little girl, and is a stay-at-home mum with a somewhat distant de-facto husband. For ages, I couldn’t remember her name even though she’d introduced herself when I moved in (thanks, PTSD short-term memory failure).

Our friendship has grown organically. At first we swapped pleasantries, then we spoke of her little girl and my nieces. Of job frustrations, and eventually, more personal things. Her relationship issues. My history of PTSD and depression. All while hanging out the washing or talking over her (ground floor) balcony etc.

Then came the little favours. She picked up Miss Cleo cat from the vet after her surgery last year. I’ve looked after her beautiful sweet grey boy cat and she’s fed and dispensed pats to Miss Cleo in my absence.

Miss Cleo and grey neighbour cat (they have a love-hate thing going on)

And so on. We’ve swapped thank you gifts, but we’ve never really taken it any further than that.

Until she noticed me limping around (both times) with my calf muscle tear and asked what was going on. I told her a bit, but as she was on the phone we said we’d talk another time.

Saturday of last week, I’d just come home from my yoga class and was getting ready for my thyroid ultrasound (which is NOT fun btw). She came out of her apartment and I explained about Hashimoto’s and the limping and so on.

I was already feeling pretty emotional, but then she tipped me over. Well if I’m cooking, I’ll put some aside for you if you like. It’s no trouble.

Sobs. This is more than my own parents have offered to do for me. Then she adds, If you need to talk, if you’re feeling really bad or need help with anything, just let me know.

We hug and I tell her how grateful I am for her support. Monday night, she sends me a text message to let me know that dinner will be waiting when I get home. I’m blown away by her kindness and even more so when in response to my gratitude, she texts back: You deserve a helping hand.

Whoah. I do?

The dinner is really tasty. Butter chicken, rice and vegetables.

I’m still sitting with this idea however, that someone thinks I deserve support. Accepting and receiving care is humbling for me. I guess I’m just not used to it.

But I’m realising that in order to be an effective giver of services to others, I also need to know what it feels like to receive.

I’ll tell you what it feels like. A freakin’ miracle, that’s what.

~ Svasti

Belated blogiversary and self-expression

Tags

bare necessities, blogiversary, C’est la vie, Energy, Happy blog birthday, Love, mwah, self-expression

Strawberry tea in the teapot of love

First point of business for this post is to acknowledge that I managed to miss my third blogiversary date – 27^th May 2011. It zoomed right on by, as many things are doing at the moment (like writing more regular blog posts).

It’s because I’m busily living in a haze, trying to find my balance and I sure as heck don’t have all the answers yet. Of course, there’s also the excitement of having a brand new niece-ling join us in this world. There was much anticipation leading up to her arrival, and she’s been bewitching us with her cuteness and sweet-mannered charm ever since.

My general preoccupation is doing the bare minimum to get by. Going to work, teaching yoga, going to yoga, reading up on thyroid disorders, making sure I get enough of the right food, sleeping as much as I can, seeing doctors and specialists, seeing my acupuncturist and kinesiologist, getting blood tests and ultrasounds and generally just trying to make sure I’m functional.

I do all of this alone, with no one else to cook meals or run errands for me. It keeps me busy. I don’t always get it right, but I’m conscious of conserving/building my energy stores and keeping my stress levels as low as possible.

Most days of the week, it’s all I can do to get out of bed and not because of depression – every cell in my body is exhausted. It’s often mid-morning before I’m really awake and my system blinks into life.

This is partly why I haven’t been writing very much. My mood and energy levels are so up and down that when I do feel normal, it’s very pleasurable to do nothing much at all and just enjoy feeling somewhat stable.

Then there’s this: right now I get overwhelmed a lot. I regularly feel weak and sad. When I’m not those things, I’m doing what I can to be strong, optimistic, pragmatic, and believe that I can get through all of this. It’s hard not to feel like life really sucks sometimes when I’m facing off with yet another massive hurdle to jump.

Other times I feel blessed. I know in my heart that my path as a teacher is as someone who can share with others from first-hand experience. I know what the dark night of the soul is all about. I understand depression and grief and trauma, body and self-image issues, and I know the hard yards it takes to heal body and mind of dis-ease and imbalance.

Sometimes I go through all of the above in a single day. But then, mood swings are a common symptom of Hashimoto’s. C’est la vie, right?

I don’t want this blog to become the place where I endlessly whinge and moan about what’s going on and how I feel. I could write a lot of very intense and poetic posts on feeling like crap and hoping against hope that I’m going to get better. They’d be full of vivid imagery (two days ago I was actually feeling like my own self-sacrifice on a funeral pyre – dramatic, right?) and you’d write me lovely, supportive comments.

However, I think that’d be a doing myself and my readers a disservice. That’s not to say that I won’t ever write about my bad days any more, but just not all of the time. Because something is shifting in my perspective on suffering – more on that when I’m better able to articulate it.

Anyway, you guys…

Can you believe I’ve been blogging now for three years??!! That aint half-bad as far as milestones go, right? So, hooray!

I was reading about 10 year old Eli Knauer the other day. I realised that had blogs existed when I was ten, I totally would’ve had one.

For me, blogging began right around the time I was diagnosed with PTSD, when I was finally getting the help I needed, or at least I was beginning to. Instinctively, I also knew that self-expression was important. Trauma brings up so much stuff – and not just surrounding the actual trauma itself.

So what am I saying here?

I think being heard and having a place to express whatever needs to come out is an important part of the healing process.

Last weekend I was visiting my sister and nieces, and my eldest niece gave me one of her latest coloured squiggly line drawings. This time she’d written her name in shaky yellow letters with the Y turned upside down (not bad for a four year old!). I praised her efforts and thanked her for making me a drawing. The look on her face was beautiful – she was bursting with pride and happiness. Self-expression. Love.

I think that the suppression of our feelings is where dis-ease with life begins. It’s something we learn to do very early in life – especially if you’re a “too sensitive” type – and our emotion-hoarding grows as we do. It’s unhealthy.

As such, I’m very grateful for my original impulse to start blogging. Sometimes my urge to write burns holes in my fingers and other times I need peace and quiet, even from my own words.

I continue to be awed and amazed by the friendships I’ve made as a result of blogging (and Twittering). People that I now love just as much as any IRL friend. You folks know who you are and if you’re not sure, let me know and I’ll tell you!

And just know that if I ever win, inherit or otherwise obtain large sums of money, I’m gonna fly you all in to a private tropical island for one heck of a blog meet up. There’ll be yoga, meditation, good food, rest, massages, music, walks in nature and cheesey DVDs to watch (Buffy, Charmed, Gilmore Girls, Supernatural, True Blood etc etc).

Until then, I’m sending virtual group hugs out to one and all. Thanks for reading and thank you for becoming a valuable part of my life.

*mwah*

~Svasti xxx

New beginnings

Tags

Auntie, changes, Love, Munchkinland, new beginnings, Nieces, Oz

My new baby niece :)

I’m a proud and loving Auntie. I adore my nieces and their ability to inspire my love for them by the mere fact of being alive.

And this one, like the two before her… I’ve loved her since before today (when she came into this world). Then she arrives, looking all adorable and agreeable and that pre-fabricated love gets an infusion that makes it permanent.

Life is still shifting for me in other ways. Always is, I guess. But in that tectonic plate movement kind of way, not just the oh, I grew a new eyelash yesterday…

Got some more blood tests done this morning (pre-arrival of new niece) and maybe by this time next week I’ll have some more answers. Ones that’ll lead to figuring out exactly how to get my body working properly again. Right now, we’re still only on the first step in Munchkinland on the way to the merry old land of Oz.

I’m just putting one foot in front of the other because that’s the only way to get anywhere, right?

But there’s so much more than that too, because other things are starting to click-clack into place. Stuff I didn’t know that I didn’t even know. Now that I do? It all makes sense.

Then there’s this wild and simple little children’s story kicking around the various attics of my mind, begging to be written. I simply MUST find some time for myself to write some more of it before things get too rowdy upstairs!

Those stories are so ready to come out that I found myself giving Kerry a two second synopsis at our appointment the other night. Of course with those appointments, we’ve been busily shifting a LOT of stuff. Including loosening up the ties that have held my creativity down. And so… BLURT.

But to tease: my book has a name, a rough storyline and several characters already halfway grown (noses pressed up against the window, waiting to catch my attention).

Finally, other future plans are beginning to feel a little more real and possible and likely to happen in the sooner rather than later timezone. Which makes the corners of my mouth turn up in a secret, barely visible smile.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve still got a long way to go (baby…) (SQUEE!). But now I’m sure I’m on the right track whereas before, I most definitely wasn’t. Yay me.

Please feel free to send your blessings and prayers for a happy and inspiring life to my brand new niece. She’s the cutie-pie at the top of the post…

~Svasti

Happy New Year & final #reverb10

Tags

#reverb10, Air Bourne, beer, champagne, cobwebs, core story, Growth, Healing, honesty, learning, Love, New Years Eve, Service, Truth, Yoga, You Am I

A little of last night's liquid joy ;)

Happy New Year, everyone!

Isn’t it wonderful to be here on the first day of a brand new year?

I hope you enjoyed your new year’s celebrations, whatever form they took.

For the first time in too many years and perhaps not entirely wisely, I decided that I’d go out for the evening and get down with my funky (??!) self. Haha. So I ended up at a live music gig at a Melbourne landmark, the Espy Hotel. The line up featured You Am I and Air Bourne, lots of awesomeness there!

Much fun was had, ridiculous amounts of beer were consumed (after the champagne I drank at home – I can’t tell you how rare such a boozy night is for me!) and many insane tweets were sent (if you missed out on those, consider yourself lucky!).

So here we are, the final #reverb10 post, and the first day of a brand new year. It’s been really interesting writing about personal topics based on other people’s questions, and fascinating to realise as a result just how central and deeply ingrained yoga really is to my life.

It’s also been a wonderful discipline to write almost every day and though I doubt I’ll keep that up for daily blog posts in future, I think I’ll aim to do some personal writing each day now. Coz it really helps keep the cobwebs from forming.

Core Story. What central story is at the core of you, and how do you share it with the world?
(Bonus: Consider your reflections from this month. Look through them to discover a thread you may not have noticed until today.)
~ December 31 prompt

My core story is a delicious cocktail (vodka martini, anyone?) of these things:

• Being of service – using whatever skills I possess to help those in need.
• Healing – myself and by extension, the way I interact with others
• Growth – change is always possible if we really want it enough.
• Learning, always learning – may I never stop!
• The giving and accepting of love – this heart of mine contains endless amounts of the stuff…
• Yoga – my saving grace, my teacher and my bestest buddy.
• Honesty – I’ll answer stuff honestly even if it’s not always to my advantage.
• Truth – the seeking of it, speaking and living it.

Reading back through my #reverb10 posts, these ARE the common threads. It’s all pretty much where I’m coming from as well as where I’m headed.

May your New Year be bright and full of love!

~Svasti xo

Christmas Eve & everything’s okay #reverb10

Tags

#reverb10, Christmas, Christmas Eve, equinox, Everything IS okay, full moon, Love, solstice, you are loved

A few minutes after this post goes live, the wee hours of Christmas Day will be upon us (here in Australia anyway).

I’m not much of a Christmas person really. For one I’m not a Christian, so the celebration of the birth of a guy who wasn’t even born on 25th December doesn’t really do much for me. I’m more interested in solstices and equinoxes and full moons in general, I guess.

Never mind. I’ve come to accept that for me, it’s a day to spend with family (if you’re lucky enough to have any nearby that aren’t too freaky). My definition of family is about where my heart is, and a lot of my family don’t live here in Australia. But my blood family do, we’re a small band of people.

Things have been up and down for a while in my relationship with my parents. We’re on more of an even keel now, but one that was born of my acceptance that they love me in whatever way they can. Thank goodness for my sweet nieces, because without them it’d still feel like a very lonely day, surrounded by disassociated family members, too much food, and gifts I don’t need.

Perhaps that sounds ungrateful, but if you’ve been reading along then you’ll know I’ve been dredging the channels of my inner world for a while now. One of the results of that, is being okay with things that aren’t great and at the same time working out what I really want, and being clear with myself.

And I’m clear that this isn’t one of my favourite holidays.

Christmas for the last bunch of years hasn’t been much fun for me – everyone being so cheery and excited! None of it made any sense in the face of the terror and grief I lived with every second of my days.

But anyway, that is past. This Christmas feels… empty in some way. I’m not excited by it, but then again I’m not overly freaked out either. It’s just neutral territory and a day to get through.

::

Everything’s OK. What was the best moment that could serve as proof that everything is going to be alright? And how will you incorporate that discovery into the year ahead?
~December 24th prompt

Everything IS okay, even when life is doing it’s best impersonation of a commercial junk pile, and I’ve felt like I’d never kick my way out.

But a moment of proof that everything will be alright? I’m not sure there’s been a definitive point in time like that.

Except maybe this: a time where I was unsettled and ruffled, jobless and stressed.

I spent a day with my sister and nieces, hanging out at their place. I’m sure I was freaking out my sister with my rather dark mood, until the second smallest person in the house opened her mouth.

We all love you, Auntie Svasti, she says. Unprompted, unrehearsed and utterly perfect.

Oh good lord, wisdom from a child!! Does it get any better than that?

Yeah, everything’s gonna be alright… despite appearances. It really is.

::

Regardless of how you’re spending your Christmas Day, I wish you love. I send you warmth and hugs and if you’re alone, I want you to know that you’re never really alone.

The best knowledge we can learn is that regardless of our circumstances, we are ALL loved and lovable. Even if everything seems hopeless. My sweet little niece showed me that.

Be well, take good care of yourself and if there’s no one around to hug you, hug yourself! And know that if I could, I’d be there doling out my very own version of a bear hug. Just for you.

~Svasti xo

#reverb10 – a community quilt

Tags

bejewelled inner nature, benevolence, Blogging, Community, haven, kirtan, Lonliness, Love, overflow station, patchwork quilts, PTSD, purging, rejection, self-preservation, teetering, Twitter, virtual world, Writing, Yoga

Community. Where have you discovered community, online or otherwise, in 2010? What community would you like to join, create or more deeply connect with in 2011?
~December 7th writing prompt

Sometimes it’s what I crave more than anything else – a sense of belonging to a place, to people. That I’m somehow important enough to someone that we don’t go more than a day or two without talking or hanging out.

This hasn’t been my experience of life in recent times. And while I crave this thing, I very much feel the ringing absence of it all and I wonder how it’ll ever be any different. So I do what I always do, and hunker down close to the things I know. And that can be lonely, but at least there’s no feeling of rejection there. Just… space.

I’ve watched my idea of community change a whole bunch in the last few years, as much as I’ve experienced it shrinking then growing again in unexpected ways.

Before 2010 I spent so long hiding away from everyone, licking my wounds in private and slowly losing touch with those who might care.

Mostly just because it was easier than saying things like:

Yes, I was assaulted. I wasn’t raped, just beaten up. And even though it only happened once, I somehow developed Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) and depression – and I’m way more surprised about that than you’ll ever be. I’m also highly embarrassed and pretty messed up. Actually, I’m really fragile in lots of ways and it can be so much effort just being out around other people, frightening me with their mysteries. Sometimes, I even consider committing suicide because constantly living in terror and having flashbacks is both exhausting and soul-destroying.

If only I could’ve said those words: they needed to be said in order to feel like I was heard. Seen. But I couldn’t, of course. Mostly because I didn’t even know what was going on for a while. Then, once I did, it wasn’t like I suddenly felt the urge to share. So my community grew small. Smaller. Smallest. Gone.

Then a flicker of life, the tiniest of sparks came back to me when I began blogging in 2008, kick-starting the process of purging sticky toxic grime from the insides of my skin.

Silently (to those not in the know) and wordfully, I published my screams and terrors and found others like me: teetering on the edge of our own extinction and yet somehow finding the strength to fight back.

Throughout, I’ve gathered my online community like the cosiest of patchwork quilts, adding another patch here and there. Creating comfort and warmth.

Some have been with me from the start, or shortly thereafter. Others are more recent. They’ve either discovered me, or I came across them – it matters not. In each other we’ve recognised the reflection of our bejewelled inner nature… we salute another solid gold soul and each and every one of you (and there are many) make me happy. Your benevolence gleams brightly in my eyes and heart.

Twitter has enhanced the sharing and further developed these friendships. I’ve even been emboldened to meet a few of my blog and Twitter friends, which has been just like I expected: in the flesh, people I’ve known and loved online and from afar are as marvellous as I imagined (oh yes, you are).

I don’t really understand how it works – but all these people I would never have met or known otherwise are now a part of my life in one way or another, and that seems mightily precious and special. How did you get here? I’m not too sure, but get here you did. Thank you for that!

My online life has been one of safety. It’s allowed my writing skills to grow, and created a haven of protection for the things I’ve had to say. My blog friends have helped me understand that no matter what I’ve shared, I am loved anyway. That is inexpressibly invaluable because it’s not something I’ve had in spades very often.

Words that might never have passed my lips any other way have escaped as pixels on a page and were launched into the stratosphere via WordPress. They’ve gained freedom from the prison of my inner world and in doing so, helped very much to change my own perspective on my experiences. It’s kind of magical in a way!

My blog has changed over the last two and a half years. It used to be just about purging the grief, anger and horror from my lungs, my heart, kidneys and all those other great hiding places within.

Now, I balance writing on mental health topics with my ever unfolding interest and love of yoga. And in this I’ve found new friends – more treasured patches for the quilt!

Then, my online world started spilling into the non-virtual in other ways. Someone suggested I use a service called Meetup.com to find local interests (and therefore people). Which is how I found the kirtan group I’ve been a part of since late last year. More about kirtan in another post very soon!

This year the dynamics have changed – a core group of us became not just people who meet up once a month to chant, but suddenly we had each other’s phone numbers and email addresses and outside that original circle, friendships are slowly growing.

But I can be hesitant to allow people into my life. The only time that’s different is those lightning moments where the spark of knowing transcends any sense of social awkwardness. Instantly, a stranger and I are friends and it’s always been that way, will always be that way.

Mostly though, it doesn’t happen like that (except for when it does).

This is how I’d like my community to grow in the coming year: I still need my online safety net – in some ways it’s the overflow station for all the things I can’t/don’t want to say or do elsewhere. But I’d like to find a way to prise open my stringent self-preservation a little. Crack the corner a bit and let myself out to play with abandon.

I suspect I might not have any choice about this anyhow – being nudged by the universe as I am to teach yoga more and more. And the more I teach, the more I’m lovingly forced to open. Don’t think I can actually teach any other way.

Community isn’t just about what you get from others – it’s something you contribute to and help create. And I think it’s coming for me, as I am for it.

Love. I have lots of it to share and I hope y’all out there are ready for it…

~Svasti