Search
Subscribe to the Blog
Past Posts
GraceNotes

Life lessons cleverly disguised as shiatsu-y goodness delivered twice weekly to your inbox.

Zazen

"Opening the hand of thought."

Click the image for this week's contemplation.

Entries in oneness (2)

Thursday
19Nov2009

Where's Your Valve?

Some people who know me, know that I am reluctant to say I have beliefs.

I prefer to say, "possible scenarios I am currently entertaining".

One such scenario is that about Oneness, and that we are all expressions of such.

And not just expressions, but conduits, vessels, to channel the grace of Oneness to the physical plane in order to to help each other remember and relive that experience that we so long for.

So, I got to thinking about power the other day, prompted by an observation made during a session by a client.

She was remarking how powerful my hands felt, with a small degree of awe.

For me, being 5' 1'', and not exactly the most noticeable, outgoing, assertive ... (shall I go on?) person in the room - in fact, I've prided myself on achieving invisibility, more by default - this felt strangely good to hear. "Powerful' is not a self-descriptive term I would reach for.

Normally I would have brushed it off, but in that moment, I let it sink in, and allowed myself to really try on that description of 'powerful'.

Oh my gosh! What if I am? What if I've been totally mistaken about the reasons behind some of my relationship issues... that it's not so much because I'm a wimp, but because I am too afraid of letting my power loose?

And then I had this other thought, one I've mentioned before, about how I'm fearful of making people uncomfortable, and yet, here I am in a profession that requires me to get in people's spaces and make them feel uncomfortable.

I still struggle with this.

But what occurred to me how this affects me physically. Coming on the heels of my last post, about using my hara to inform my sessions, and ideally express the fullness of my being to my receiver by really leaning into them, I noticed when I don't do that - when I hold back - my left shoulder and neck lock up. And my breathing gets shallow.

It's like ... closing up a valve.

It isn't tension as a result of poor body mechanics, it's where I stop the flow.

And I'm thinking this happens in other places too, in other situations, and with many other people.

If we are, indeed, by nature, channels of the divine... if that's what our bodies, and tissues and cells are REALLY created for.. if our sole purpose is to express our particular frequency of divinity, then it would stand to reason that when we hinder that flow, we're gonna feel it in our physical bodies.

Our shoulders, our gut, our throats, our hearts.

So, what it means, what it feels like to me, is that it's not really 'my' power I'm afraid of expressing or owning. My real power is in how willingly I allow divinity to flow through me.

It reminds me of when I was in labor with my first son.

When it came down to the final stages, my body knew what to do, and what I remember taking away from that afterward was that the most effective role I could play was to stay out of the way and allow it to happen. My second guessing, or rushing, or even 'helping' did nothing but hinder the process and cause me discomfort.

And while this seemed passive, it was the hardest thing I had ever done. Allowing the fullness of the forces of nature inscribed in my DNA to do its thing was humbling to say the least.

Let's Play.

There's a lot here to consider. I'll leave it at this for the moment, but I invite you to try seeing your own aches and pains, tension, frustration, anger, fatigue as an indication that you may be holding back from allowing your power and purpose to flow through you.


Ideal Bite gives bite-sized ideas for healthy, light green living.

Tuesday
03Nov2009

For the Love of the Game

So, I went off on a little tangent yesterday when writing about my sudden interest in baseball, that had less to do with the game, and more, shall we say, with the players.

But, seriously, with the help of my husband's commentary, I gained a huge appreciation for this cliché American pastime.. one could even say, I totally GOT it.

Far from what for most of my life appeared to be a hell of a boring activity to watch, it was actually filled with intrigue, strategy, tension, mind games, and the fascinating interaction of dynamic personalities in a very highly-pressurized situation.

I marveled at the rhythm of compression and activity, the yang and the yin... as the intensity would build between pitcher and batter, and then be released with a whack of the bat, exploding into activity out in the field.

Like the one-on-one of tennis or martial arts, it would all come down to two guys (or three, if you count the catcher, who also held a crucial place in this part of the dance)... and a momentary but intense interplay; a meeting and clashing of training, skills, and ego.

But then with a swing and a crack, the rest of the team, already focused and ready to come into play, would spring into action, working together seamlessly like a finely tuned machine.

Simply glorious.

As I watched, I tried to contemplate what lessons I might take away from this experience.

I imagined that there were already a great number of metaphors between baseball and life... such as the wisdom in playing the short game, instead of trying to hit it out of the park every time... blah, blah, blah.

So, I took it to a more personal and somewhat spiritual level.

It may have been a coincidence that the first game I got into was on Halloween night. There had been several twitter conversations about costume-wearing being a mode of psychological healing... the act of dressing up and temporarily but completely embodying an estranged aspect of yourself.

I walked around the neighborhood that night wearing a Phillies cap, disguised as a fan.

Funny how complete the transformation had become. Suddenly, with a piece of branded headwear, I now became identified with a certain group. And by implication, I was also in direct opposition to another group. 

Which was weird and somehow arbitrary. But also a little exhilarating.

The irony being that I've been spending a lot of time and energy on cultivating my awareness of one-ness, and now I just threw myself headlong into one of the most divisive mindsets of our modern society... beside politics and religion: I became a sports fan.

Suddenly one of my favorite twitter buds became an 'enemy'.. playfully of course, but still, there we were, hurling public insults at each other.

And as I watched the other team, because of my recently-acquired loyalty to my own, they appeared to me to be aggressive, ugly, and obviously worth defeating. Preferably shamefully.

Even though I was well aware that if they were my home team, or even playing anyone else, because of their obvious skill and fortitude, I would be totally rooting for them and celebrating all of those previously undesirable qualities.

How interesting. To now have preferences and aggression and emotional investment and hotly debated opinions and concern over outcomes and a willingness to lose sleep -- all because of a choice to identify with a group of people.

A game for the ego to revel in.

A game which I have the luxury of easily divesting myself from.

But, then, it's all a game, really.

Isn't it?

Ideal Bite gives bite-sized ideas for healthy, light green living.