Saying the wrong prayer

Often, the things I dread or stress about the most proffer a gift.

For example, two back-to-back and very important birthdays just happened. One, a 40th and the other, an 85th. On the same weekend, one right after another and I had been asked (though would have gladly volunteered) to plan and execute decor/set-up for 50 and cook for both events. The next day I would have one of my favorite kids with me for a week. It all came on the heels of a whirlwind, dizzying end of the school year and all that entails. And, to be honest, I was grieving the evaporation of time to myself.

Naturally, I worried about how I would get it ALL done, let alone enjoy any of it.

The night before the BIG party we had decided to collectively decorate, but plans changed minute to minute about who could help and when. I fretted and wasted too much energy when it all flowed flawlessly and so naturally that each of us showed up at exactly the right time and worked beautifully as a team to transform the house and yard into our theme: flowy (hum, just like the preparations and parties moved) goddess. Theme choice is probably another blog in itself. The birthday girl arrived from an out-of-town conference just as we finished and swept us all up and out for dinner. Tired and happy, we unwound over the meal.

That party went off without a hitch, though I retired a bit early, awoke early, squeaked in an hour of silent worship and then headed off to the next party of picnicking, eating and celebrating.

It's now midweek with an extra child in the house who's has been a blessing. He's worked himself into the fold and we've even managed to have fun. Today, we stopped for ice cream and giggled as the behemoth mounds melted and dribbled down their chins.

I have actually managed to stay more present and enjoy each activity instead of obsessing on all that is before me. As I write this, it seems so petty to have internally panicked and complained about cooking, decorating, celebrating and embracing an extra person. But in that moment, in that mode, I was considering how it would make me feel and assuming the answer would be tired.

Yeah, maybe I was a little weary, but with the fibromyalgia I experience that even when I am well rested with little to do.

This time I applied what I am learning through the Alexander Technique: to know where I am now, not necessarily in 10 minutes or two days (although I will eventually direct myself there). But in this moment, I can choose to relax. STOP as my teacher says. Stop my old habits of worry and stress. Take my foot of the brake and coast into joy. I recently read that worrying is a prayer for disaster.

I think, at times, I have been saying the wrong prayer.


• How do I react when faced with challenges?
• Is there I mode to which I automatically revert?
• What happens when I relax into that moment?
• How am I able to be joyful?
• How can I transform my prayer for disaster into one for love and joy?


Such
a
long
list


only
growing
longer


myself
turning
tenser


thinking
ahead


until
the
time
comes


and
I remember
to
just
be present


that's
when
everything
shifts


my mind,
my body
and
my heart

Putting the brakes on

I am learning how to walk again, really.

With the help of the Alexander Technique and a gifted teacher, I am re-learning my body's natural way of moving. I wondered if I were crazy when I quietly observed that I don't know how to hold my body anymore. And, yet that thought lingered. Low and behold, a process and a teacher appeared.

I have been examining the idea, even dreaming, about what holds me up and how I respond to that. I envision a cord or string as if I am a puppet and moving at the puppeteer's whim, not mine. And how gliding through the water is such a very different experience. One that seems more natural and freeing for me. In the pool, there's a palpable balance between being buffered by the water (relaxing into it) and in control enough not so sink. The yin/yang of trust and being. Bridging the spiritual and physical. Living in two worlds. I identified it once in my journals as the place between being the vigilant mother and the innocent child. Again, one of those liminal spaces.

I am attempting to be like a toddler again, physically. Moving in my natural patterns and rhythms. Before I modeled others and felt so "pushed" in this culture.

At the beginning of a recent lesson, Jennifer asked me: "Where are you right now?" You can't imagine how I struggled to answer. I began to talk about how I felt, what I had left behind to attend the session, everything but where I was. She patiently would ask again until I answered very simply. I kept looking to give her the answer I thought she wanted (yes, I am a pleaser who seeks approval). This was an eye opener, revealing that I am usually more concerned about where I have been or my next destination, mentally or physically. I have rarely considered my literal placement – except when practicing yoga, swimming, meditating or worshiping in silence "How can you know how to get where you want to go if you don't know where you are?" she gently asked.

What a significant and profound concept. How can I know where I want to go if I don't know where I am right now even just physically? Or in the bigger questions of life.

We have also talked about taking the brakes off, another concept that really speaks to me. Specifically, freeing the joints to move without a metaphorical foot on the brake pedal. No wonder I get frustrated thinking I am getting nowhere. The brakes are the puppeteer's string I mentioned earlier and they are hard to unencumber, yet I am learning how to disengage by thinking/being rather than doing.

Wow, imagine where I could be by taking the brakes off and knowing where I am. Nothing more, nothing less.


• How present am I physically?
• Would I describe my movement as intentional, natural or free?
• Do I even remember what that feels like?
• Are my brakes on?
• If I could relax them, where would I be?


I tend
to
forget
my
physical
self


assuming
its there
and
functioning


yes,
I often
get
painful
reminders,
which
require
attention


but
the root
of how
I move
remains,
largely,
unexplored

I cast
this
part
of me
aside
and below
the mental,
spiritual
and
psychological


because
it's almost
too obvious

how
do I
achieve
balance
and wholeness 
without
considering
all of
me?

Clawing at myself

You know the adage "When the student is ready, the teacher appears?" That's just happened and I am certain it has before, but I was not so aware.

I have been wrestling with the idea that I fight myself. Mostly physically and I believe it is a root of fibromyalgia. But I know I do on other levels. I am a perfectionist and my own worst critic. Sound familiar?

I mentioned it to my massage therapist/spiritual counselor and he asked me to stand the way I "see" that fighting. I did and it was very revealing. I looked like Kokopelli (the Native-American flute-playing figure) gone beserk. My hands and fingers curved inward, claw-like, my neck was headed toward my chest, my shoulders hunched, my glutes were tight and I stood pigeon-toed.

"You're turning that all on yourself," Gary said. I had not known it was so overt. I am grateful he asked me to demonstrate that pose, however exaggerated. It was a real eye-opener.

Fortunately the next day, I had scheduled a session with an Alexander Technique teacher. She is someone I know through Quaker circles and with whom I feel very comfortable. She had recently posted an explanation of the technique on facebook that really spoke to me of being more free in my movement. Apparently the originator, Frederick Matthias Alexander, spent ten years observing himself in the mirror – his body, how he moved, how he held it – and learned how to connect his mind and body, working them in tandem, and moving with as little energy as possible. That's what I want!

That first lesson, I discovered where movement in my hips originates: the joint, not the bone and not up top like we're taught, but deep down, midway between the hip and pubic bones. I also realized that I don't really use my knees and, when I use those joints, it makes movement so much freer. Of course, it was easy with Jennifer's gentle assistance, but it was also a revelation. Other epiphanies I've had in the two lessons are:
– My pelvis is part of my torso and belongs up, my legs hang down. That has opened so much space in my back. And I can make that happen simply by thinking it. It's not about doing.
– If my neck is free, everything is free.
– I should be aware of patterns, but not judge.
– I have the choice to STOP those patterns.
– If I unconsciously move from one thing to another seeking improvement of any kind, it will only be temporary until I become conscious of my patterns and choose to create new ones. Healthier ones.

I am smitten with this technique because I feel better, sleep like a log (which I haven't done in 10 years), am easier with myself and am making choices to move more freely in all aspects of my life.

It really is about more than just my body.

For so long, I lived in my brain, then discovered there were other places to reside, such as my heart and body. Now it's time to connect all three and find the harmony and balance I crave.

• Where is the resistance in my life? My body?
• How much do I contribute to it?
• Do I ever fight myself?
• How do I reverse that pattern?
• Are my mind and body connected or am I somewhat unconscious about them collaborating?


snarled
turned inward
clawing
at myself

not
a pretty
picture,

but
a
truthful
one 

what
a
terrible
waste
of
energy

when
I should
stand
tall,
show
my heart
to the
world

and use
the
energy
to
create,
not
destruct ...

myself