For the past almost two weeks I’ve had pain in the spot where my shoulder and neck meet. My chiropractor characterized it as a drum beneath her fingertips. It’s pulsing, it’s intense, and as much as I would like to think it’s only from sleeping weird, I know that’s not the case. The mind and body are connected with the body acting as a roadmap for my life. It marks the terrain.
When I shared with my close friend what’s happening with my body, they said it sounds like I’m in the in-between place of “I’m stuck,” and “I take my power back.” In the chiropractic model I use, network spinal analysis, there are 12 stages of healing. The stages are fluid and not hierarchal, meaning I could cycle from stage 12 to stage three to stage nine all in the same day.
Stage three is “I’m stuck,” and stage four is, “I take my power back.” I struggle with making that jump. I’m really good at being stuck. I repeat patterns over and over again. I find myself in places where I can’t seem to escape from. Taking my power back? Not an easy thing for me. I’d much rather give my power away to someone else. Someone else has all the answers. Someone else knows what I should do. Someone else is the key to my healing. And sometimes that’s true but there’s a difference between saying, “I’m choosing to see this person or take this course/class because it feels in alignment” and “Aaaaaah! I’m stuck, I’m stuck, I’m stuck, let’s try this thing and that thing and that thing. Throw spaghetti at the wall!”
Not a spaghetti picture but a powerful one! Photo by Ameer Basheer on Unsplash
I usually throw spaghetti at the wall. I’m really good at trying random things from a disempowered place. It’s easy for me to take action. It’s not so easy for me to believe in myself. And yet, that’s what I’m here to do. The two tenets of my spiritual practice are self-realization and service to the universe. What is self-realization?
According to my spiritual teacher, “[I]t is the natural wont of each and every living being to see others, not to see [themselves]. That is, whenever one becomes a subjective entity, [they take] others as an objective counterpart, but never the self as an objective counterpart. One’s subjectivity never merges with objectivity and that is the trouble. You want to know so many things but you never want to know yourself. Your ‘self’ is your nearest entity but you never want to know yourself. That is the pity, that is the trouble.”
By knowing the self, I don’t mean just what my favorite color is, or even what my hot-button issues are. Knowing the self means knowing my true self, the self that’s always here, witnessing everything. The calm, quiet, inner voice within that’s ready and willing to help me if I let it. My recovery mentor tells me frequently, “Higher Power is very polite and only goes where invited.” When I invite my Higher Power into my life, that is a form of taking my power back. It’s me saying, “I can trust my self. I can trust my self to lead me where I need to go, to show me what actions to take.”
Knowing the self doesn’t mean becoming egotistical, that you shut out other people and say, “I already know everything.” Instead, knowing the self and taking your power back means being an active participant in your life and recognizing that not only is life happening to you, but you are happening to life. Both are true. There are circumstances outside of our control but some things are not. How are we showing up for life? I, for one, want to take my power back.
I dream of a world where we recognize the wisdom in knowing the self. A world where we understand that doesn’t mean arrogance but rather a recognition that a force within us guides us, shows us, and inspires us when we’re willing to listen. A world where instead of being blown about like a leaf, we take our power back.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
My body is still stiff and sore from the car accident I was in recently. I can’t turn my neck all the way and it hurts when something as lightweight as my purse presses against my trapezius. Because all human beings have an inherent negativity bias, it would be easy for me to focus on the bad instead of the good, the terrible instead of the great.
I do think it’s important to let things be terrible without trying to fix, change, or solve them, but a personal practice for me is also seeing where things are great. Even within my own body, there are places that are peaceful, that are at ease. It’s part of the reason I love my Network Spinal Analysis chiropractor so much. With traditional chiropractors, you tell them, “My neck hurts,” and they go to that pain point to crack your neck and put it back into alignment so the pain stops. Network Spinal Analysis chiropractors, however, do something different.
They briefly and very gently touch a point on your body that’s peaceful. They go to the place of ease rather than pain. They seek to emphasize peace and grounding so that your own body amplifies that energy and heals itself. For instance, they may touch a point on my sacrum and doing so causes a deep breath that sends energy and movement to a point on my neck that hurts. Both exist within my body. I can choose to engage in “all or nothing” thinking and say, “I’m in pain today,” or I can say, “Parts of me are in pain today and other parts feel fine.”
This picture is dark AND light. It’s both at the same time. Photo by Stephen Leonardi on Unsplash
Similarly, with my novel, when I think of the piece overall, I’m quick to tell you it’s terrible, complete garbage. Except, that’s not the full picture. Parts of the novel are terrible and need to be reworked, absolutely. But there are also parts that are great. There are lines that make me laugh like this one, “After exhausting the safe topics, like complaining about work, the weather, and other news events, the table would inevitably fall silent and still like the Bay Area during Burning Man week.”
I’ve read that line numerous times, but it still makes me chuckle. So no, the novel isn’t absolutely terrible. It has some gems within it. Why don’t I focus on that?
The reality is there will always be an invitation to the fear and negativity party, but I can choose to decline. I can choose to say, “I won’t be attending.” Furthermore, I can center myself by aligning with a higher power. My spiritual teacher says over and over again if a person takes shelter in the Supreme, they need not be afraid of anything in this world. That the divine is “more courageous than the most courageous, and braver than the bravest. Those who take shelter in [the divine] are therefore bound to acquire these qualities: courage, bravery, chivalry, and so on. Once endowed with such qualities, what is there to fear?”
That’s the perspective I want to live from and that means for today, I’m choosing to view the world as mostly safe, people as mostly good, and my body as mostly fine. In other words, I’m letting things be great.
I dream of a world where we acknowledge not only the terrible things, but also the great things. A world where we understand even within our own bodies some parts may hurt while others are fine. A world where we understand rarely are things all or nothing, black or white, instead they’re much more complicated. A world where we let things be great.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
My body hurts. Not in a debilitating way. More like in a dull, aching, inflamed way. The pain reminds me my body is not a machine, despite my predilection to treat it that way. I have to admit I’m angry I can’t control my body; that it’s not doing what I want it to be doing. But when I dig a little deeper, I remember my body isn’t some irrational creature — rather it reacts to something. In my case, I’m realizing my body has stored trauma.
Dr. Bessel van der Kolk, an expert on trauma, has spent more than three decades working with trauma survivors. In The Body Keeps the Score, he uses scientific advances to show how trauma literally reshapes both body and brain, compromising sufferers’ capacities for pleasure, engagement, self-control, and trust. In essence, trauma is not only something that happens in the brain, but in the body.
The body has its own intelligence. Photo by Lucrezia Carnelos on Unsplash
I’ve spent many years unraveling trauma on a psychological level. I’ve read books, enlisted help from others, and engaged in practices such as EMDR to rewire my brain. What I haven’t done as much, what I’ve largely ignored, is the physical component of stress and trauma. Don’t get me wrong, I have a regular yoga practice and have seen energy medicine practitioners over the years, but it’s obvious I need something more because I have a long list of foods I’m allergic to and I keep adding to it. It’s not realistic for me to spend the rest of my life avoiding certain things because if I eat something often enough, I become allergic to it. A friend of mine joked pretty soon all I’ll be able to eat is protein water. There’s a kernel of truth to her joke.
I’m starting to see a network spinal analysis chiropractor. It’s a modality Tony Robbins said is one of the most powerful sources of transformation he’s ever experienced. This blogpost isn’t to extol the virtues of network care, but rather to bring more awareness to the body. How often do we get pissed because our shoulder hurts but neglect to ask why it hurts? How often do we treat our bodies like enemies instead of close friends? I’m absolutely guilty of this, but more so, I’ve been a bit naïve thinking I could experience some of the most stressful things possible and that my body would not be impacted. I thought I could carry on as usual. Turns out I can’t.
My spiritual tradition emphasizes the divinity in all things, and that includes the body. It’s my responsibility to treat my body as a sacred vessel, helping it to calm down and unwind from stress. Sometimes that means taking a bubble bath, but sometimes that means seeing a professional. I realize not everyone has the means to do so, but it is my sincerest wish that everyone has the opportunity to access that sort of care.
I dream of a world where we all take care of our physical forms. A world where we recognize our bodies carry stress and trauma. A world where we help ourselves heal in body, mind, and spirit using modalities that work for us. A world where our society honors and values the lives and bodies of all of us.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
On Tuesday, I woke up with a pain in my neck. On Wednesday, I went to my fantastic network spinal analysis chiropractor to help me with it. After asking me some questions about the pain, what came out of it is I feel like I can’t keep up with my progress. I can’t keep up with myself and all the things I’d like to do.
She walked me through a process of transformation, but what came out of it is she said there is a space between who I am and who I’d like to become. And in that space, I need to breathe in trust and creativity. I don’t need to know how to get where I’d like to go, I just need to trust I’ll get there and remember to be creative.
There is space between who we are and who we’d like to be. And in that space is trust and creativity.
Lordy was that ever what I needed to hear. After coming back from Denmark, I’ve felt listless and despondent because of the differences in our countries. People in Denmark are more chill, as far as I can tell. There isn’t as much of a “go, go, go” energy. Coming back to the Bay Area, the land of start-ups and entrepreneurs, I’ve felt overwhelmed by the hustle in the people I’ve seen around me. I have zero interest right now in making an inspirational meme every day, launching a webinar, or looking for ways to put myself out there more. And because I’ve had no motivation to advance my career, particularly after seeing how the Danes are happy without the intense hustle and bustle, I’ve started to wonder whether it’s OK for me to be where I am. To accept my life as it is, doing the things I’m doing. Can I be content with what I have?
My chiropractor reminded me it’s important to hold on to my dreams and at the same time to let go of the how. I have a tendency to think all the answers are outside of me. That this webinar or that book has the magic formula for me to follow to end up where I’d like to be. To become who I wish. But that’s not true. It’s sooooo not true.
In my yoga and meditation group, we have a mantra we sing after bathing. I won’t post the whole translation here, but the gist is that I am the divine, the divine is working through me, my actions are the divine, and the outcomes of my actions are the divine. In no part am I separate from that which has created everything. In no instance am I on my own.
I don’t have to have all the answers. I don’t have to even know the questions. The important thing for me is to keep trusting, to keep surrendering, and to keep remembering that my higher power is working through me. I am an actor in this great drama of life, but only an actor. And when needed, my higher power will feed me lines and tell me where to stand.
I dream of a world where we keep trusting, surrendering, and using our creativity. A world where we remember we are never alone or helpless because there is a powerful force working through us. A world where we trust that force is helping us to move from the people we are to the people we’d like to become.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.