February 2017 | Sherisse Alvarez

Collaborating with Change

It is alright to simply stop, to get off of the treadmill of doing, and rest. Pausing to reflect or pivot doesn’t mean that you’re quitting, less than, or lost.

If you are used to being in charge, but haven’t yet found your purpose, you may feel like you’re chasing your tail. You wonder where the pleasure has gone and worry that you’re missing the point. The real point of it all.

To do what you can is to be exactly where you are right now without forcing, without over-exerting. To do the task you wish to do rather than what’s expected. Or, to finally take that nap, that trip, make that phone call to a friend for a spontaneous visit.

Going, while disconnected from our higher purpose, gets us nowhere. We may fool ourselves into believing we’ve got it all figured out, and maybe on paper it appears that we do. But this isn’t a contest and no one will reward you for burning out.

When we collaborate with the universe, struggle begins to loosen its mighty grip. We go where we are needed and move swiftly through obstacles that once held us hostage.

Less Control, More Harmony

When we feel powerless in our own lives, we tend to want to control other people. This will manifest, most profoundly of course, in our intimate relationships. Where we feel safe, where we trust the other person won’t abandon us. In this dynamic, however, we often feel as though we have abandoned ourselves. And, we have. We have officially left the building.

As soon as we take the focus off of ourselves and start pointing the finger at another, we give away our serenity. It is instantaneous. Chasing outcomes only makes us feel helpless and resentful. We see this with our partner, children, even our co-workers and bosses.

If we reflect on how we respond when others try to control us, we know that it generally doesn’t go well. We rebel, act out, find ways to prove that we are in charge. When it comes to managing the lives of others, less is always more. If we find ourselves there, we must ask what needs recalibrating in our own neck of the woods.

To care for the wellbeing of our loved ones without attempting control, requires mindfulness. Particularly when we see them in pain, we may want to force a solution. This rarely works. Letting the other person be who they are allows for authentic connection, harmonious reciprocity. By respecting their boundaries, we will also be respectful of our own. How can we offer our attention while remaining grounded? It takes regular practice, but it’s well worth it.

We have no control over people, places or things; trying to manipulate and over-manage only causes us pain. As we stay present and tuned in to our own experience, we can more gracefully navigate our relationships. Ease-ful in giving and receiving, we become generous and kind with how we handle the heart of the other.

Living in the Present

Living in the present sounds like it should be simple, but it isn’t. Our mind is always journeying into the past and future. If we watch our mind for even a few seconds we will see how difficult it is to actually hold still our attention. We will observe that thought is constant.

To experience the present takes effort, takes commitment and practice. It requires wanting to be here, now, rather than in regret or fantasy: these are the places we often go when not in the moment. We are reviewing what already happened, re-writing the script, and imagining what could be as we cling to ideas and stories that don’t mirror reality.

It’s a funny thing. Liberation only truly exists in the present. Revisiting the past or future may yield insight, of course, but to hang out there depletes us. To be in remorse about the past does not in any way change or alter what happened; to float away into illusion about what will be (or not) does not get us closer to our dreams and goals.

To approach living in the present as an exploration allows us to observe the ebb and flow. We pay attention to our thoughts and how they actually make us feel. We become playfully curious about the nature of the mind. When we achieve some traction – say, through movement or meditation – we begin to feel more spacious, flexible, forgiving. The burden of before and after falls away.

Navigating the Pain of Conflict

How do we choose to handle conflict when it arises? We often harden against it and suffer through it. Spiritual teachers tell us that conflict (discord, anger, resentment, violence) is always the result of a belief in separation – I vs. Other.

The first time I heard this it stunned me. It’s a profound idea, a notion that is hard for our human mind to grasp. We are so enamored with our “I”: our sense of self, labels, identity. We believe that all we have accumulated – education, relationships, wealth – is a result of my efforts, hard work, discipline, good fortune. But our fixed “I” is also what causes us to steal, cheat, lie and hurt others. “I” is at the heart of conflict. This doesn’t invalidate the experience of trauma or abuse or neglect. We still have a right and a need to protect our “self,” to resist injustice.

But there does exist some space in the interstice. Between self-care and enacting harm there is an opening. There’s a choice to be made about whether or not to pick up the sword and attack. There is also a question to be asked: Is this person truly separate from me? When we perceive the other as enemy our wisdom is obfuscated. We cannot see clearly. All we see is self (right) and other (wrong). But what we’re actually experiencing is self as victim and other as perpetrator. This leaves us feeling defenseless and hungry for retaliation.

There is an alternative approach, and an alternative question: What am I witnessing in them that is actually a reflection of me? If they are (or appear to be) lying to or stealing from me —when have I lied or stolen. It’s rarely easy to muster compassion for someone who has wronged you. It’s easier, or so it seems, to hate the other as the object of your suffering. When we do this we don’t have to turn the gaze inward. We simply abandon, humiliate, attack, kill. There is an exit, a way out of the painful trap of “I” and “Other” which so often fails us. At the root of conflict there exists a split; with practice, and with or without the participation of the other, we can return to an experience of wholeness.

Prayer for Soulful Living

Explore the still tender edges of your unknown.

With certainty delve into the curiosity.

Perform your sensuous magic.

Be guided by the glow of your yes.

Tend to the yearning of an internal whisper.

Open to the beauty of your nameless mystery.

Swim out into the wild and quiet center.

Stand in the radiance of your starfish shape.

Let breath be filled by the soul of ancestors.

Gaze skyward as if courting the stars, or saints.

Hiding Places

To pause and ask the question: “Am I truly living a life I love?” is a bold and courageous gesture. It means confronting what may need alteration or repair. Asking it requires presence and participation, a long and deliberate exhale.

Also, it requires digging deep below the comfortable surface and visiting our hiding places. The places where we burrow when we refuse to live life on life’s terms: where we attempt invisibility and silence, shrink and disappear.

As a child, my place was the “secret” shed in my grandparents’ backyard, except camping out there as a child was filled with imagination and play. Later in life our hiding places are typically where we go to numb: the bar, the TV room, the office, the unhealthy relationship.

How can we wisely utilize the pause between feeling and action? To re-set our attention, we turn the gaze inward. With tenderness and a flashlight in hand we investigate. We get curious about our needs, our choices, the songs of our ghosts.

Clenched Fist, Open Palm: On Jealousy

Jealousy drains us of vital energy. It stems from ignorance and a limited view of Self. Only when we believe that we’re not enough, and that we don’t have enough, can we be jealous of others. Jealousy is such an unpleasant, even painful, emotion to feel, that most people will do their best to avoid feeling it.

When we become jealous, if we let ourselves really sink into it, we can observe how it makes us feel on a somatic level. Our breath is constricted, our chest tight, the jaw tense. We cut off completely from love and connection. Inner peace is absorbed completely by the experience of jealousy. Our thoughts become fixed and hard. The heart becomes like a heavy stone.

Whether we act on or merely suppress it, we often wish to destroy the object of our jealousy. This aggression arises from conscious and sub-conscious thought: He is better than me. I’m not smart enough. I’ll never have what he has. I’m defective and therefore unlovable. These narratives, whether we ultimately believe them or not, lead us to sabotage friendships and relationships of all kinds.

Despite all this, I don’t believe there is anything inherently wrong with the experience of jealousy. It is normal and can, in some instances, help us to create and know our boundaries. We see it even in animals and young children who don’t yet have an intellectual understanding of what it means to be jealous. Instead, it presents much more instinctively (and “intelligently”) as the urge to protect, demarcate, possess.

The energy of jealousy is essentially just that – energy. It can be observed and transformed. This is often felt after movement or meditation. When we are in a relaxed state we’re able to recognize the “real but not true” nature of jealousy. The clenched fist of fear eases into an open palm; emotions pass through us but don’t cling in the same manner.

The first time I was aware that I was completely free of jealousy was after a yoga class. I’d been studying for some time and as I sat still after asana practice, I could feel the heat emanating from my tailbone. Pleasure came from a kind of emptiness; what filled me was a buoyant and peaceful bliss. When we experience genuine safety and connection with Self, jealousy naturally dissipates.

Wisdom of Letting Go

Letting go means surrendering the need to control. It also means trusting the process as it unfolds while engaging with intuition.

We don’t always know why we’re being asked to let go. It can feel impossibly difficult, unnecessary, even cruel. But we know when the pain of holding on is greater than the pain of letting go. When we are simply doing what is expected of us and not what our heart truly desires.

When we find ourselves in the rut of expectation we can summon our courage to let go. Drop the rope. Let the other have the last word. Because protecting our serenity is our most sacred priority.

If guilt is what’s keeping us attached, we ask whether this is a valid reason. Knowing that the person (or situation) we are detaching from has their own higher power, relieves us of the illusion of responsibility.

And letting go isn’t necessarily permanent. What serves the relationship today may not be true a year from now. We live one day at a time and remain open to what we don’t yet know. This eases the mind which often craves certainty. Instead of “no, never” we can softly rest on: “I’ll know when the time comes.”

Our energy is limited; we have only a certain amount allotted to us each day, each week, each year of our life. Letting go frees us from obligation and allows us to use those energies wisely, with care and intention.

The Tenderness of Change

“Transforming your identity is like performing surgery on yourself. You must act as both doctor and patient.”

-Deepak Chopra

The ego is a powerful thing. It urges us to look for love in all the places where true, lasting love doesn’t really exist. It has us believe that we are separate and isolated, and that we are fixed in our identity: male, female, gay, straight. Ego adores absolutes. It has an affinity for binaries. It is not particularly sensual or tender.

When we expect a different result but keep doing the same thing, a good place to look is the ego. By examining its motivation we can better understand the impulses that drive our behavior. The ego may be after recognition, praise, security. While there is nothing inherently wrong with these things, they deter us from our larger desires and goals.

Consider the ways that you cling to a false sense of self. What do you wish to let go of in order to more genuinely connect with your true essence? By identifying our habitual patterns and thoughts, we move closer to who we truly are. This doesn’t mean the accumulation of more things. It does mean shedding relationships and attachments that no longer produce the outcome we long for.

Many of us live our lives half-asleep. We follow the crowd and are content, at least on the surface, maintaining the status quo. We dress how others tell us to dress; adorn ourselves with accessories and makeup that harm people, animals and the planet; and consume media without thinking about its effect on our mind. We routinely reject suffering and cover up our fear by acting out with aggression and violence. This numbness of the soul is also what leads to brutality and war.

Love – of self and of others – stems from this place of transformation. Love generates (and is generated by) creativity, change, flow, spaciousness, consciousness. The rest – all the striving and struggle and psychic unrest – stems from illusion, from ego. Each moment lets us choose which we will follow: we can continue to go down the rabbit hole of despair or we can use our precious life as a vehicle for awakening.

8 Keys to Self-Forgiveness

1. Acknowledge the remorse or guilt that you’re carrying around.

2. Write down what is causing this. In each instance, include what happened, who was involved, how it made you feel, any fears that came up, your role in the situation, what you might have done differently.

3. Make a list of the people to whom you would like to make amends. If, for whatever reason, it’s not appropriate to make a direct amends, then brainstorm other actions you would like to take in order to bring about healing.

4. Share what you’ve written with a trusted friend or therapist. Don’t leave anything out. Be as honest as possible.

5. Make amends where necessary and appropriate.

6. Write about how this process has made you feel, what you’ve learned from making amends and if there’s anything still left to do.

7. Once you’ve completed the process, share any insights with your friend or therapist.

8. Do something that serves to honor your process: buy yourself flowers; go to a yoga class; watch an uplifting movie; cook your favorite meal.