Change

The phrase 'be careful what you wish for' keeps coming to mind right now. I don't want to be careful though, I want to wish wish wish and have it come true, and to be able to deal with the ramifications of my wishes, which is what I'm doing right now.

Recent changes:
1) My father passed away last weekend (obviously not one of my wishes!)
2) I have told my workplace that I am taking compassionate leave for one week but will not be returning after that
3) I begin house sitting next weekend and have the opportunity to keep house sitting for a long time, as long as I don't mind packing up my belongings every couple of months to move to a new sit.

I have wanted to leave my job for 2 years and have wanted to live alone for as long as I can remember. Suddenly, within the course of one momentous week, these things are mine.

Now, of course, comes the nagging fears.
1) I won't have any money
2) People told me I was so good at my job: what if I'm not good at anything else
3) What if I'm crazy and ungrateful and nothing good is going to come to me
4) The biggest one: what if people don't like what I'm doing. What if I'm not good enough?!

Basically, with freedom comes fear, because you know longer know what's ahead. I need to be ok with this. The world is big, the opportunities are immense, I love and at the same time am terrified of my new situation.

But the situation is what I've been asking for (let me stress again, I don't mean my father's death). I am free, the world is open, I will be ok no matter what happens. I will trust the shakti!

Notes from my practice

I woke up to my alarm, tired but eager to begin my day of yoga practice. My first thoughts, apart from registering my fatigue, were about what I lost two and a half years ago; these thoughts are the impetus for setting aside a day of dedicated practice. I have been letting my memories drag me down, I have been dwelling on them and identifying with them, and the result has been a noticeable irritation with life.

I reminded myself to be present, to bring my mind to what I was doing.

It was freezing. The previous morning had been the coldest so far this year, and this morning wasn't feeling any warmer. When I opened the curtains I wasn't surprised to see a blanket of frost on the grass. The windows were covered with condensation, for which I was grateful. I could see the sun rising behind the tree tops, but I knew anyone on the street glancing up at my window would just see a moving blur as a practiced my asanas. Before I got active, though, I put the heat on in the practice room while I made a hot drink.

My asana practice focused on standing poses, specifically Virabhadrasana I and II, Trikonasana, Parsvottanasana and Ardha Chandrasana after some Sun Salutations. Having awoken unrested, I was soon feeling my energy draining away, and spent some time in Viparita Karani before Savasana. I felt momentarily disappointed that my planned active practice turned out to be exhausting rather than invigorating, but in the spirit of the day I dropped those thoughts, and mindfully ate a breakfast of boiled eggs and rye.

I ventured out for a walk in the surprisingly bright sun. Although it is winter, and only about 14 degrees, there was a blue sky and no breeze. I took off my polar fleece and felt the sun on my arms, and after walking for a bit it felt like Spring. The dew on the grass sparkled and I wished that I'd brought my camera. I didn't walk my normal route around the edge of the park; instead, I walked closer to the centre to be near the big old trees, and later, to feel the spaciousness in the middle of the deserted sports fields.

After asana and walk, meditation was easy to slip into, and I experienced a new sensation: waves of well-being that actually cut through any background mind-chatter that was going on. Like a wave surging through the ocean I could feel this sense of well-being obliterate physical discomfort and mental activity. I have never felt this before. For me, meditation has been a stillness of mind (when I'm lucky) between bouts of uncontrolled vrttis. Bliss has never come to me, but today I got a sense of it.

During my yoga reading I came across an article about meta-commitments, which are unwavering commitments one makes that reflect one's true self. These commitments are able to withstand any disturbance in the external world, and can guide decision-making and life direction. I started to think about my own meta-commitment, based on my awareness of my true self thus far, and I came up with this:

My meta-commitment is to connect fully with the other beings who share my life, recognising and honouring the universal energy that runs through us all.

To do this I need to be open and fearless, without having expectations of what these connections will bring me. This has been coming for a long time. I have a deep dark fear that I am not really interesting and that people will get bored of me when they know me better. This fear/belief influences the friends I choose and the chances I take. Many of my friends are people I have little emotional investment in, because then I won't get hurt if they withdraw their friendship. Sometimes I even take yoga classes where I am not impressed by the teachers, because it is less emotionally taxing than attending classes with teachers who I love and respect. I mean, how would I feel if the teacher didn't notice me that session, or if they spent more time talking to the more confident students? My ego might be hurt. Ah, there it is. My ego.

In the past I have missed many opportunities to engage with interesting and stimulating people who have offered friendship or even love to me, because I thought they were seeing something in me that didn't exist, and they'd soon be bored of me anyway. I can see now that this has much to do with my ego, and as usual I have been projecting my expectations onto others in my life. I feared hurt, disappointment and rejection, and since I wanted them to like me so much, I couldn't take the risk.

So, no more. From now, I will say yes when a friend invites me somewhere, even if I might not fit in. I will recognise the energy and light in the people I am with, without having expectations about how they perceive me. I will go to the yoga classes with my favourite teachers and will just be, without projecting hopes that they will acknowledge me and stroke my ego. I will be vulnerable and have trust. Yes, I will trust the Shakti!