I feel like I’m standing out over a ledge and looking at the bottom of a steep, deep canyon below. The canyon represents where I need to be to be grounded and at peace with myself, and it’s a long way down. I know that I have to get there to be at peace — to have the proper love and respect for myself and others, even to feed and clothe myself properly, and to start to actually live my truth — but I’m not ready to make the leap. Not yet.
I’m still reading Rolf Gates’ Meditations From the Mat, and in the last few passages, he’s really asked the reader, in this case me, to look at my addictions, my attachments, to where I hoard and where I’m looking outside for answers rather than inside. I know exactly where these things are in my life, and the simple truth is that, right now, I’m just too scared to let them go. To begin to let them go would unravel the safety net I’ve created and to face my underlying sadness, fear and failings. My life would change dramatically. I’m not sure I want it to.
I’ve realized lately that there are parts of my life that are lacking. Decisions I made in the past –which I believed were the right ones at the time — have put me in a position of dependence, which I despise. They’ve also put me in a position as second best, number two, or the afterthought, which I also despise. This situation has left me feeling empty, unconfident and lonely. I’m filling this loneliness by consuming things, particularly pretty dresses and jewelry and other clothes to help me feel as fabulous as I once did as an independent woman in clogs and sweatshirts.
I realize this addiction, but honestly, I’m not ready to give it up. I’m not ready to stop the automatic mechanism that tells me it’s okay to feel better, and that I’ll feel better if I look awesome and throw around some attitude. It’s not right, it’s not honest, and it’s really starting to eat at me.
My yoga asana practice and the hours of stillness it creates for me afterwards are the only moments in which I feel at peace by myself. I used to feel at peace with myself easily. I want to face this filler I have, this compulsion to look outside myself for answers, this addiction, but not yet. I’m not ready to make the leap into the canyon. I hope to, but not yet. Until then, I’ll wait on the cusp of the path to my self-realization. And I’ll keep practicing.