March 2017 | Sherisse Alvarez

Meeting Ourselves Where We Are

If we are experiencing physical pain there is something that needs our attention. We have a choice. We can either be with it or we can ignore it. Ignoring it will often lead to more symptoms as our body will keep trying until we address the underlying need.

Dreams are a good place to look when we are stressed, anxious or feeling ill. They often reveal what we are trying to avoid by giving us the images that we don’t yet have language for. If we tend not to remember our dreams, we can keep a notebook near the bed to jot them down as soon as we wake up. Over time, remembering our dreams will become easier.

If there is a particular part of the body or area in our life that needs processing — if we are holding on to grief, clinging to a person, disconnected from our creativity — we must allow ourselves the space to mourn and heal. We can be our own best advocate as we navigate transformation and change. This means, too, creating nurturing environments that our spirit can thrive in.

Silence, Speech and the In-Between

When I heard the slogan, “Say what you mean without saying it mean,” it resonated with me. I used to be the kind of person who would keep silent while feeling resentful. I’d use my resentment like a weapon. I’d let it take over and control my relationships, control me.

This is what I observed growing up and I couldn’t imagine any other way of being. Later I saw that it really wasn’t sustainable and that I’d have to find a new model. A new way of relating to people and situations that triggered me.

What I witnessed as a child was a mother’s depression mixed with bursts of rage. I vacillated between feeling sad and angry. Sad because I wanted to know her and she was largely inaccessible, and angry because she couldn’t be the sane parent I needed her to be.

While I had several caregivers, the chaos in my home made for a nervous system that later on needed some repair. Conflict resolution was an elusive concept. I needed to learn how to communicate effectively and that took many years of practice.

Many of us wait our whole life to say what we really need and want to say. This informs our whole being both somatically and spiritually. We hold back, our breath becomes chronically shallow, we check out of our relationships, censor our creative flow.

How can we be of service if we are routinely out of order? Let us practice non-violent communication as often as possible if only to reassure ourselves that it is safe, that we will not be exiled.

Harmony Between There and Here

At some point the thing that you’re doing “in the meantime” starts preventing you from getting to the thing that you actually aspire to be doing. Even if you’re foggy about what that thing is, you sense its existence, and you know that this isn’t quite it.

The universe, in its abundance, will keep manifesting opportunities that are in line with your dharma. You are forced to turn down engagements because there’s only so much bandwidth.

Eventually we have to practice saying no — to the fill-ins, substitutes, the just-for-todays — so that we can show up. For the client, creative project, new job offer or partnership. We have to take a risk the way children do when they don’t yet know fear. Until it’s familiar, we feign bravery.

If we are hiding how can we know what we’re truly capable of? And if we’re hiding how can we earn, receive, ask for what we are worth? We can’t. But wherever we are, however imperfect it may seem, we can practice. We can articulate our needs, do our best, find ways to spread our wings. If we put out the call, our guides will find us.

Moving On, Making Peace

To accept the past as it has been without harboring resentment. To move on from regret and the things that didn’t go exactly our way. Shifting from the old narrative to a new framework. We may desire these things and not know how to achieve them. Desiring creates a certain disappointment, like pining for an unavailable lover.

But every beginning starts with a hunger, a thirst, and each moment makes available the opportunity to begin again. With our thought, speech, action. Each time we encounter difficulty with another we struggle, but nothing is fixed, nothing is permanent. Anger we feel today may be lifted from our heart tomorrow. The same is true for sadness, joy, or any other emotion. It doesn’t make the feeling any less true; this is simply the nature of things.

Knowing impermanence, we have no reason to become overly identified with any one state of mind. We do so only because this is habit, and this is how we see people all around us behaving. In fact, when we don’t react others may think we’re strange, naïve, dull.

When we devote ourselves to staying present, on a path of spiritual awakening, we use our obstacles wisely. We understand that we can transcend difficulty, and that we’re equipped with the resources necessary to do so. Making peace with all things — present and future — naturally becomes part of our healing process.

Freedom in Non-Judgment

We spend much of our adult life in judgment. As children our curiosity leads the way and we seldom dwell on good or bad, right or wrong. The child’s mind is similar to what the Buddhists call “beginner’s mind.” It is free of criticism and negativity. It is simply open, loving yet unattached.

To be able to listen to a friend (or enemy) with a mind that is clear is an act of generosity. It frees us up. When we are caught in judgment, we miss out on valuable experiences. We stay hidden and so does the other.

I’ve had, in my own life, the experience of sharing with people who were critical and people who listened in a receptive, unbiased way. I think we probably all have. Judgment is always a projection of insecurity.

A dear friend reminded me recently of the acronym HALT. Whenever I am in judgment, I can ask myself if I’m: hungry, angry, lonely, or tired. Self-care and self-love are antidotes to critical mind.

To practice non-judgment with others we must also practice it with ourselves. We can begin by forgiving ourselves. This is a power we possess. We should not wait for this to come from an outside source. Once we recognize our innocence, we will also recognize it in others.

Divine Presence

Some believe god exists in all things. It can be difficult to grasp, both somatically and cognitively, what this means. To have a felt sense of the divine.

We can access and utilize a higher power only when we have some deeper awareness of its presence. Otherwise we are acting as if, or without faith altogether. In a kind of psychological limbo. Not because we don’t believe in god, but because we don’t know there is a power greater than us.

There is a playful aspect to the process of discovering the divine. One can locate it, if only fleetingly, in meditation or dance or in the experience of love. Often, however, we are split off at the root. We have forgotten our own mystery.

As we dare to become familiar with our loss, we may then become reacquainted with our knowing. It is a language we learned long ago and can never truly lose. To remember it again we must sit near the altar of our own curiosity. Here, spirit and beauty are one.

Transforming Self-Doubt

In order to transform self-doubt we must acknowledge that it exists. We are human; we don’t need to spend any more energy sweeping it under the rug. Let it be known, in all its glory. This way we know what we’re dealing with and we can stop trying to foolishly dance around it. It means no longer having to pretend we have it all figured out.

Identify the voice of self-doubt and articulate it: to a therapist, a coach, a trusted friend. Let the elephant in the room be seen and heard. How liberating to not be alone with it — masking, veiling, concealing — and to let others see us as we are. How wonderful, in turn, to be able to offer that to someone else. To be with and accept and not deny.

We live in a patriarchal culture of denial. The wearing of makeup, uncomfortable clothes, bleached hair, the obsession with thinness — these are all symbols of a society that prefers what is false over what is real. We can live according to these principles or we can consciously oppose them because we understand what is sacrificed when we don’t. Only actions that interrupt our denial help us to heal self-doubt.

Little (and Big) Victories

A seat on the bus, averting an argument with a triggering relative, your ATM card working the way it’s supposed to, the patient barista who tailored that drink to your taste. Imagine: in a single day, in a single hour, all of the wonderful things we overlook or take for granted because of our endless search for “more.”

This week a legal matter that I have been dealing with and stressing over for more than two years found its way to some closure. Leading up to it, I felt some heightened grief. To be expected.

The only reason I could feel the grief, and the slew of other emotions, is because some time ago I committed to changes in my life that would allow me to feel them. I removed certain distractions and began making healthier choices, namely around relationships, my home, and the food I was eating. Once overly stoic, I also began asking for help when I needed it. A natural by-product of shedding toxins, emotional or physical, is becoming more aware of our internal fluctuations.

In the face of difficult circumstances, all we have to do is what we can do. Gratitude for others helps a great deal. We do very few things all by ourselves. When I stop to recognize all the things that are going well, I have less time to ponder the things that are (according to my view) going badly. This helps me to honor my process, the plight of others, and the dark nights that arise along the way. If we want to be free, we begin with the mind.

Making the Invisible Visible

A drunk man sits at a New York City bus stop in the cold. He has a cane and looks to be about 80. One woman acknowledges him, calls an ambulance to take him home. “I want you to take me home,” he says to her in a voice nearly inaudible. Others look on but ignore him until they recognize that he has become visible to someone else. Then they join in, some wish to help.

I am one of those people: I move in close and ask if I may pull his hood over his head. I get no response and decide to give it a go. He takes it off immediately. Another attempts to put gloves on the man’s hands then settles for one fist in a tattered sweatshirt pocket. A woman waiting for the bus says, “The helpless have to help themselves. You understand?” But that isn’t how it works and that isn’t the whole picture.

If we’re ignoring the freezing, elderly man at the bus stop, then surely we are ignoring other things as well. Parts of ourselves we can’t stand to look at. The ways in which we, too, have been rendered invisible. To be seen requires vulnerability, a willingness to need and be needed. When those things stop being true, it seems easier to hide. Addiction, of course, is a whole other animal.

When the ambulance arrived the man was helped up, strapped to a gurney. He would likely be out here again the following day. But I silently thanked the woman brave enough to call for help, to show empathy for a fellow traveler in need. Her willingness to see and be seen.

Fire in the Heart

Last night as I was walking home I noticed a commotion of smoke, fire trucks and emergency vehicles. Uniformed men and police tape diverted us from our usual path. What we were witnessing was the aftermath of a fire. It had occurred just a couple of blocks from my house, caused by a strange combination of salt and electricity.

I thought about the forces that combine to form fires in our lives, and how little or how much we actually notice them. What we know about putting them out in a way that is safe, that fosters healing and love.

And conversely, how many hearts are on fire all over the world. And how every life, every passion and aspiration, is significant. What we value, and what we don’t. Even in ourselves. Where does the heat of our desires go? Who or what reignites that magic spark in us?

I was afraid and unsure what to do last night as were several others. Once I began walking the long way around the block I discovered a hidden alleyway. The whole neighborhood was disoriented, turned temporarily upside down, and yet in our confusion we organized and found creative solutions.

Somatic coaching is like that too. It’s about looking in places we don’t ordinarily look, and coming up with (often simple) solutions. If our view is obstructed by negative thinking or by clinging to the past, we will find it difficult to trust our inner wisdom. And, further: to enjoy, to love, to connect with our potential.

If, on the other hand, we recognize that there is an issue — a threat, a burning structure — then we can employ the necessary tools. We get to ask the question: what is the best way for me to get back home?