Is there a linear path to spirituality?
Grace discusses the messiness of the “path” of spirituality and why there is no “right way” to be on your journey.
Surrender is Harder for Men
by Jenny Jnani Hale
In spiritual circles, it’s fashionable to exhort women to “surrender.” The neo-Tantrics will explain that expanded orgasms lie just the other side of surrender, and that resisting surrender makes a woman “unfeminine.” Fundamentalist Christians and Muslims will point to verses requiring women to “submit” to their husbands (in exchange for protection and being guided to God, of course).
What about men? Do men get a pass in this “surrender” business?
Obviously, to reach transcendent states in which the ego is dissolved, everyone, whether male, female or gender-fluid, will need to make the ultimate surrender – relinquishing the separate self.
The oft-forgotten secret?
This ultimate surrender is waaaay easier for someone in a female body than someone in a male body, at least on average. There are always individuals who buck the trend of their biological gender.
There are spiritual traditions which make it clear that this gender difference was well-known to the ancients.
In Kabbalah, women have only two observances – a morning consecration, and a weekly ritual of lighting the menorah on shabbat evening. These two small rituals are enough to keep a woman on track, because she is naturally much more connected to the Divine, and less likely to stray from the path. Men, on the other hand, have a dazzling array of practices designed to remind them at every turn that they are here for a Divine purpose, not for personal accomplishments.
In traditional Tantra, every woman, no matter how uneducated, is to be treated as a manifestation of the goddess of instantaneous enlightenment. In some cases, the texts go so far as to say that without the assistance of a woman, a man practicing alone can never reach the highest states of liberation.
In modern times, we can make hypotheses about why this gender difference might occur. We now have some understanding of the effects of hormones on perception and motivation, and the personal testimonials of transgender people who have experienced both versions of reality in the one body.
At the base of the gender difference are the effects of the male hormone, testosterone. Women also have some testosterone, but at much lower levels than men. Testosterone mutes the proprioceptive feedback which forms the basis of interpersonal visceral empathy. In more simple language, testosterone makes us less aware of what is happening both within our body, and within the bodies of the people around us.
Adrenaline also has this effect, which is why stressed women feel so much more isolated than women who have a lot of social support and control of their time. Studies have shown that even spiritual seekers, such as students studying to be ministers, can be made to ignore a person needing medical help if they believe they are late for an exam. Adrenaline is a gender-neutral empathy-suppressant, though. Both men and women suffer from a reduction in empathy and compassion when stressed, regardless of their baseline levels.
One of the major ways to offset the effects of testosterone is to generate more of the “bonding hormones,” such as oxytocin and vasopressin. These hormones are stimulated by physical touch, affection, emotional closeness, trust, and spending a lot of time together.
Given this hormonal recipe, it is easy to see why people in male bodies could get deep spiritual benefits from the loving presence of another person (generally assumed to be of the opposite gender, but unless that person is a highly advanced practitioner with good detachment, personal preferences, cultural taboos and sexual orientation would still play a part).
Neural entrainment is another valuable tool which has been used since time immemorial to help bridge the spiritual gap.
When two individuals consciously “connect,” with or without sustained eye contact, their brain waves synchronize. This process allows someone who is very familiar with a particular state to induce that state in another person, even if that person has never previously experienced that state. In spiritual circles, this is referred to as “initiation”, and is often supported by rituals, which subconsciously encourage the person to be open to receive the new state.
When men are initiated into deeply connected states of consciousness by women, they can attain the same effects as monks who have meditated alone in caves for years on end, within a very short span of time.
In our Western culture, however, we glorify the ruggedly individualistic state in which the average man finds himself. Mainstream media encourages women to “lean in,” to adopt more individualistic traits, to be less receptive and empathetic, and put their own interests first, in order to “make it” in an economy organised around individual men. We lack language to express the ways in which people rise together to accomplish things beyond what can be accomplished as isolated individuals, and we attribute successes to individual leaders, not to well-interconnected teams.
Even in spirituality, the vast majority of publicly visible spiritual leaders are in male bodies. There are more books by male spiritual teachers than females. The work of female spiritual leaders and teachers is often misattributed to their male teachers or disciples. Looking at the available corpus of works and biographies from spiritual leaders, one could be forgiven for thinking that spirituality is generally a masculine pursuit, with women only contributing via fundraising, housekeeping/secretarial services for the Great Leaders (being their consorts in non-celibate traditions), and cleaning the houses of worship.
It is almost impossible for someone raised in such a culture to spontaneously realize that the average woman starts her spiritual journey several stations down the track from where the average man starts, simply by virtue of her biology.
So, if you find yourself in a female body, in a spiritual tradition or community run by men, this is your get-out-of-jail-free card. Your inherent connection with the people around you, and your inner wisdom, will be of more use to you than following instructions that are designed by men for men.
Does a particular practice feel rigid, constraining, or limiting? Allow yourself to explore what happens when you gradually release arbitrary constraints. Do you find yourself sinking deeper into communion, or does the laxity allow you to get distracted?
This is not carte blanche to declare yourself to be your own guru, and not in need of teachers any more. Everyone needs guidance, as the pitfalls on the spiritual path are many and varied.
This is simply a reminder that if you are in a female body, you might not need to do so much, or such highly structured practice, in order to reach the same results as someone in a male body might require. Sinking in may benefit you more than pushing through. Connecting with the Universe may work faster than seeking to transcend it. Honoring your inner wisdom may be more effective than painting by numbers.
And if you are in a male body, you just might be able to save yourself a few years of pushing through and practicing hard, if you can find a woman who is willing to initiate you to the level of consciousness she has already attained!
By Jenny Jnani Hale
What is an Identity?
In my work, both personal and professional, I spend a lot of energy becoming aware of identities, both my own and supporting those I work with in uncovering theirs.
But what is an identity?
Here’s a simple example. We are all born FREE. Completely, infinitely free. But soon after we’re born, we start responding to and being conditioned by the world around us. In my case, I developed an early age the identity of being self-sufficient. This came from a feeling that others’ needs were more important than mine and so it began to feel like a waste of energy to share my needs or ask for them to be met. Regardless of what the actualities of my childhood are, this is an identity I created: I will do it my damn self.
Where we can find empowerment in discovering this identity (also called a story) is in letting go of what actually happened to create this story and seeing that at its core, it’s completely hollow. Transparent. Nothing. When I see that, feel that, breathe that, I get to choose to be free again.
This morning, the aforementioned identity came up and smacked me in the face. It’s one that I’ve seen in my intimate relationships repeatedly this year, that others’ needs are more important than mine, so I will just take care of my damn self. It’s an identity that causes me to not state my needs or desires for fear or disappointment. It’s an identity that puts me in a holding pattern of fear and traps me into not expressing what’s alive under the surface of, “No, it’s fine.” And it makes it difficult to trust.
So, I have a choice: I can hide behind this identity, fault others for playing into my pattern and stay locked away in hiding. Or, I can see that whenever I feel that way, it’s most likely just the world bumping up into my identity and rubbing my bruise until it hurts. I can let it go. Again and again, every time it rears its head. Most powerful of all: I can love the shit out of that identity. I can hold it, embrace it, see it, accept it, love it, sing to it, cry with it, ask others to love it, and let it be absorbed and dissolved as part of me.
The more I meditate, ask for self-reflection with people on the Path, and pause to listen deeply to the ripples around me, the more the strings of my identities start to unravel. At times, this feels very liberating. At times, it feels dismantling and shattering. Today, it feels like a mix of both, the complexity of being both human and divine. Dissolving into the ocean of, well, myself.
The Joy and Freedom of 59 Days of Silence
For all those on the Path of Awakening, may we all be inspired to surrender.
These days when we think of Tantra, we think of experimenting with sound, movement and sex, but the path of Tantra as it was created about 1500-1000 years ago was a dedicated path of spirituality that permeated every aspect of being. Initiates would undertake intensely disciplined practices to go beyond the limited perceptions of the mind, and often took months or years as a renunciate, away from their homes and families, away from anyone they knew and essentially, away from themselves.
Taking away sensorial input and committing to a practice of mauna, noble silence, has been a practice in every mystical awakening tradition since documented human history. It may seem extreme now, but it was common for rites of passage and initiations into different phases of life, especially for those who were healers, shamans and people with a longing for God–for the Divine spark manifest in our very being.
When I decided to apply for the 49-Day Silent Retreat at Hridaya, I didn’t think of any of those things. I just felt a longing in my heart for solitude and said yes. They said yes, too. And then I got very scared. What had I done? Would I really spend 40 days all alone in a room? Would I go crazy and lose my mind? (two very different things, come to find out) I’m quite used to living around the world and being on my own, but this was going to be a whole new level of “on my own.”
Sahajananda, my teacher and the founder of Hridaya Yoga, created the 49-Day Silent Retreat to support those with a longing to go deep. Many who live at the school have attended and come out the other side changed, in various ways. We all face our own challenges, breakthroughs and moments of transcending. The layout is this: 10 days at a group silent retreat with the school (50-100 people together) and then 40 days in solitude at a hotel an hour away from the school. One person on the retreat is dedicated to service, cooking us sattvic vegan meals twice a day and handling our needs, should they arise. In all that time, we practice noble silence which means no talking, making sound or looking at one another, a pivotal part of the practice of mauna. After this period of 49 days, there is an additional seven-day retreat which the school allows participants to join. We had 3 days of transition before the 7 days, making a grand total of 59 days in silence.
I won’t be able to share all of the experiences, thresholds and moments of surrender I experienced in this period, or in the weeks since, and that isn’t my intention. My intention going into the retreat was to surrender, surrender, surrender; to give up control and give up “me” at every turn. So, I’ll focus on these experiences, their arising and the residual space they’ve left, which is simply Love. I will not spend time defining the concepts. If they interest you, look into the Hridaya teachings which, in my opinion, capture the essence of the spiritual path of nonduality with clarity and Heart.
This article will be raw, vulnerable and imperfect. I invite you to read with the heart, rather than the mind, and to take in the essence, not necessarily the words. May whatever you take from this writing inspire your mind to quiet, your heart to open, and your faith in the path, to rise.
The Present Moment
I’ve been on the spiritual path for a while, long enough to understand that it takes a lot of time to ripen in the vision, and the deconditioning and persevering faith it takes to break free from the collective paradigm I find myself in. I’ve spent periods of three to four months at a time in spiritual schools, and experienced that the longer the time, the deeper the dive. But I’ve still always lived in “time,” meaning the construct of days, hours and minutes. I’ve been tied to the clock since I can remember, and have lived, as most of us, fragmented between doing this and doing that.
From the first day of the retreat, I decided to let go of time completely. Let go of what day it was, what time it was, how long I’d been practicing or sleeping or doing anything. I found it easier intended than done. There was a struggle for the first week or two in solitude as my mind desperately wanted to compare how much I had meditated or practiced today versus yesterday, and especially how much time until the meal was served (we received one meal at 11:30am and one at 6pm). In the 10-day retreat, I never looked at the clock except to be at school at a certain time for sessions. Once in solitude, I didn’t set my morning alarm, didn’t time my practices and in fact, turned the clock around so I wouldn’t see the time unless I intentionally picked it up and looked. There were a few times I was struggling with practicing more or taking a break, so I was glad I did have the clock to relieve me of the feeling of anticipation. As with the deconditioning process of most things, there were a lot of patterns and tendencies to break through. For me, being able to say, “I meditated for this long” has always been a way that I value myself. My mind just loves comparison, especially comparing with myself. So, this was something to drop again and again whenever it came up.
Eventually there came a moment, maybe two weeks into the five-and-half weeks of solitude, when the idea of practicing and not practicing ceased. Where there was no separation between being on my mat or eating a meal or taking a walk on the beach. Eating a banana mid-morning became simply a continuation of awareness; eyes open or closed, walking or sitting, lying or stretching, it all became simply Being instead of doing. My teacher advised us before the retreat, “Let go of whatever you do and simply Be in joy.” So, I did. No time. No comparison. No right or wrong.
This isn’t to say there weren’t thoughts about those habitual tendencies of the mind. Thoughts were there, but at a certain point, they didn’t register as “my” thoughts or anything worth taking notice of. They just arose and fell into the background of consciousness. After a while, that background became my only identification. Instead of identifying with the waves, I sank into the ocean of the present moment.
Sleeping and Waking
I decided to experiment with sleep, a practice recommended in the Yoga and Tantra traditions. During 10-day silent retreats, I typically start lucid dreaming, not sleeping much, and remaining conscious most of the night. This time, when we went into solitude, I started an experiment where I slept most of the night lying on my back with a glass of water on my chest to keep me conscious, even when I eventually fell into the state of sleep. Within a few days, I hardly lost consciousness in the night at all, but rested deeply and maintained consciousness throughout the night.
I also found what I like to call “the sweet spot” between waking and sleeping, a deeply restful state with the eyes open or closed with a fully present consciousness and completely relaxed body and mind. I discovered this during lying down meditations, which I began practicing during solitude to relieve myself of chronic neck and shoulder pain. Soon I discovered that it put me in this sweet spot where I could stay for hours or longer.
When I discovered that this deep place could continue through the day and night, I started perceiving that time just continued to be the present moment with no interruptions except the wandering attention of the mind. And eventually that dropped away and was not a distraction.
Impermanence & Spontaneity
Another effect of the continuous present moment awareness was the feeling of prolonged spontaneity. I found myself surprised by what I chose to do in the moment, be it going for a walk, sitting in meditation, lighting incense, taking a nap, etc. I stopped planning anything, and more noticeably I stopped trying to be efficient. When I took my first Hridaya meditation retreat, this was a concept I deeply resonated with: letting go of the efficiency mind that tries to be one step ahead of the moment. This future-jumping mind gets in the way of the present moment being perfect, surprising and magical as it unfolds; it judges right and wrong based on what it thinks will be best before it actually happens. This was the existing programming of my mind.
This present moment perception led to an understanding of impermanence, a central tenet of Buddhist wisdom. The only thing permanent is existence-consciousness itself, not any thought, emotion, energy or material creation. These come and go, if we let them, and dissolve back into the Pure consciousness. As I watched every one of these rise and fall, rise and fall, I started to see the deep Truth in this teaching: that all things are impermanent. ALL things. This understanding led to the ability to surrender more and more.
I found myself letting every day, every meditation and yoga practice be different. Instead of grasping at how they should be or if they went deep or what I was experiencing, I just let them be exactly as they unfolded. And in that unfolding was the most beautiful state of Joy. The Joy of Being in the moment. I know this sounds like every clichéd spiritual teaching. I can hear that. And yet, it’s exactly what I felt and still feel.
The only intention I carried into my days was to create the best conditions in each moment. That meant following the needs of my body, like eating less and less as my metabolism slowed way down, and moving less and less as my heart rate slowed way down. Or even going for a run on the beach if there was a big upsurge of energy–if something felt different, I went with that exactly as it was. It may not seem like rocket science, but for me this letting go of all expectations whenever I noticed them come up led to a huge shift in how my days played out. And continuing to be in the present moment now that I’m teaching and writing again brings this Joy more and more into whatever I’m doing in the world.
Challenges
There were hard moments and hours. For me, three demons especially plagued my thoughts, and it wasn’t until I could automatically send compassion to the thoughts and people they were about, that they began to dissolve.
The first was about my intimate relationships and letting go of expectations around what things would look like when I came out. There was a solid week where this came to my mind every day. Sometimes I ignored it and let it float by, which it always eventually did. And sometimes I looked at it, examined what was sticky, what stories it triggered for me and why it kept coming back again and again. I began to uncover that some thoughts simply are triggered by imagination or memory of other thoughts. They come up and overlap until the mind/ego grabs on and starts to weave a story. And some thoughts just come up because we’ve deemed them important and have programmed our mind to go to them again and again. This is a thought pattern, I realized, that I had deemed important, as meaning something about “me.” And that’s the level where I had to let it go. Nothing that happens in my relationships means anything about who I am or who my partners are.
About this, a passage from my journal: “During a series of external events last night, I watched the monkey mind. It really does attach to the next thing that comes up bigger than what it’s currently attached to. One thing seemed so big and all encompassing for the mind, then the next totally superseded it, then the next. The one before disappeared (for a while) because the mind just dramatizes and tries to get something wedged in the hamster wheel to play over and over again. When the energies of the Heart are more aroused than the mind, it all dissolves again right after it comes up. There are many thoughts still, but they just don’t matter so much anymore. They just come and go like trains passing by, but the awareness of the whole station is greater.”
As a reflection, having been home a few weeks now, I’m so grateful to have spent time looking at the sticky points. Of course, the expectations that were secretly hiding away about what my intimate relationships would look like three months later, do not live up to their stories. And external life has shifted. In a way, I tested myself to see what would happen if such and such a story came to be. I prepared myself for the things that have actually happened and for possible situations in the future. It feels like my heart has expanded to take in every possible outcome, instead of weaving through what makes me comfortable and avoiding the discomfort. And, of course, it’s impossible to avoid discomfort when relating with other people.
The second demon was a life situation in which I felt I had failed just days before I left for the retreat. This thought came up again and again and again, day after day after day. At first, I spent a lot of mental energy justifying my actions, saying to myself “it’s okay that I did that,” and creating a whole story about why it was okay. So basically, I was in big, fat resistance to what was, and the story I created about it. When this thought pattern would begin to arise, it pulled all of my attention and I couldn’t focus on anything else for minutes or longer. And then one morning I was journaling and realized that this was what was meant by a demon. I remembered the story of the Buddha facing his last demon in his final meditation under the Bodhgaya tree and sending unending love and compassion until it dissolved. So I tried this, and . . . it worked. It worked like a magic wand. When I opened my heart instead of closing it off and being in resistance, my pain and reaction dissolved, my hurt dissolved, my identity around the story dissolved. I sent compassion to the people affected in the situation and I sent compassion to myself. And within 48 hours, it was completely gone and never disturbed my thoughts again.
This became my routine when anything triggered hurt, pain or identity gripping: open the heart, breathe into the heart and send Love to anyone affected by this thought. I can tell you after experimenting with this for about seven weeks: it works. And it is incredibly purifying to the mind. Instead of creating more and more thoughts, it leaves the mind quiet, calm and still; capable of perceiving the True nature, the background of stillness, instead of being obsessed by thoughts.
My third demon was food. It usually happens that what normally challenges you in everyday life comes up in retreat. Having struggled with lifelong mental and physical challenges around food, I knew this was going to come up, and it really did. On the very first day of my 59 days, I got quite sick, and after purging my body of any food in my system, I didn’t eat a meal for the next 48 hours. Fasting is not a regular practice for me, as it usually stirs up my control issues around food and I’ve found it healthier the last few years to just eat whatever I want and create a relationship of freedom with food. But this period of necessary fasting – for my body, not my mind–felt physically very purifying, and left me quite available to the lightness of the body that was to come. And it triggered a whole slew of patterns about being happy that I wasn’t eating. For years, maybe decades, I used food to feel in control, especially the decision to not eat. Sometimes that would turn into binging, too. In this extended period of silence, I watched all of this come up – every single day. And every day I did my best to return to the Heart, return to the freedom of Pure Being, while witnessing the patterns that have kept me locked in control around food for 20+ years. I made some deep discoveries that unlocked those patterns and eventually realized this: I Am Free. Totally free to choose my relationship with anything in the outside world.
Three weeks out of retreat, I can now say that this is a lasting change. So much of my energy has been released by not constantly worrying about what/how/why I’m eating, and just listening to what my body really wants. The mind doesn’t need to be involved in these decisions at all. What joy.
Surrender
At the beginning of our journey, Sahajananda said, “The spiritual journey is about going into uncharted territories. It’s about giving up the limitations of control. It requires a constant reconnection to the unknown.” This quote stayed with me and carried me through many scary moments of surrender. At first that surrender was active, with the intention that I, Grace, am giving up something, like a pattern or habit, a piece of identity or a story of reacting to external situations.
Then one afternoon when conditions seemed the worst to sit and meditate, a fit of laughter seized me, and the surrender became beyond me. I’ve heard many spiritual teachers talk about the Divine Mercy bringing surrender, and this was the experience I began to have more and more. Instead of “me” letting go of “something,” I started letting go of me. I stopped believing I was a separate thing or that there was anything separate from me. I began experiencing the world as One.
This perception carried through to more and more moments of my day and led to deeper experiences of surrender. As the control mechanisms of my mind tried to take over, I chose to surrender and go deeper into the unknown. I opened to those moments of feeling beyond a “me;” I let surrender win over fear. And the joy just kept opening and opening to unlimited depths.
One passage from my journal around day 40 said, “Carefree, light, childlike, joyful, spontaneous, gleeful, sweet and tender. No pushing into surrender, just letting go.”
Freedom
Sahajananda often talks about a sense of transparency and availability to the Divine Flow. Around the third week in solitude, I started understanding what this meant. With no one recognizing me, seeing me, talking to me, I started to feel like a ghost. Being in a constant state of meditation, I felt I was becoming more and more transparent, full of more light and less material. I watched my body processes slow to nothing, including my digestion and my blood pressure. No mirrors, no being seen. It was the most incredible phenomenon to become as light as light and to feel like I was floating in the air.
This had a massive effect on my consciousness in that I felt less separate and more unified with everything around me; that my Being was one and the same as all things, or that perhaps there are no individual beings, just one Being of which I am a part. From my journal: “Noticing that not looking in the mirror this long creates a bit of a separation from the body – Who Am I becomes a more real question…Who is it that’s looking through my eyes? Who hears with my ears?”
After a few weeks of intense investigation of the mind, I stumbled into this state of transparency and began to see the mind as transparent. Near the middle of the retreat I wrote, “There is an unbelievable vastness of the mind – how inconceivably infinite the power of perception is. Today I felt like I was melting the mental separateness I usually experience into union.” Along with this, internal and external stopped feeling differentiated, and from this came a feeling of freedom: first in small drips and eventually in waterfalls. The feeling of Joy – a permanent joy, not the fleeting happiness experienced from external circumstances being how I want them to be – was the new state of Pure Being. And the vastness into which I was melting felt simply free. As Sahajananda says, “There is such a freedom in solitude.” Yes, I found that freedom. And now I get to play in it while doing my daily activities, making phone calls, driving and playing in life.
The day we broke silence was incredible. Tears poured from seemingly nowhere for hours. The idea of talking or looking or being on my device was so far from any desire I had. In fact, I noticed a few days after the retreat ended that I was in a desire-less state. There was nothing I wanted except to keep diving into the ocean of the Heart, the ocean of God. As I move back into my work of personal coaching, Spiritual teaching and leading silent retreats, my only desire is to offer these teachings to others so that they may feel this peace of Pure Being and Joy of the Heart in their lives. So that we may all choose to surrender our identities and live in the Bliss of Compassion that comes from the transparent expression of the Heart.
In the last three weeks, the overall sensation of integration I’ve felt is one of stability. No longer does my spiritual path feel like achieving states of consciousness. Instead, it feels like a sweet naturalness and awareness that extends and expands. I notice when the triggers of my patterns come up, and instead of reacting to them like I have in the past, there is a tender compassion for my own stories. I can see how attaching to my identities and unconscious patterns in the past has caused so much suffering, and choose to forgive myself and others when I see these memories. I notice the wandering attention of my mind with laughter, not seriousness, and let my awareness return to the gravity of the Heart. And at the bottom of all this is Love. Just Love.
Home is Where Your Family Is
My spiritual journey has been the most practical time of my life. And by practical, I mean that practically speaking this path of connecting to Spirit has made countless changes in my everyday life and the way I relate to myself, my friends, students, fellow teachers, and to my family. These days I’ll begrudgingly admit that the last one is the hardest. Even with my progressive, quinoa and kale-eating, pilates-teaching, past-life talking family, it’s still hard.
In 2016, for the first time in my life, I’m wholeheartedly excited to be living in my hometown, seeing my family weekly and building community in the Northwest.
I began “growing apart” from my family in 2005 when I moved to Boston from my home of Seattle. I just needed something different, something to get me out of the rut of life I found myself in two years after graduating college.
That year, I dove into Yoga with reckless abandon and it began making some huge changes internally and externally. My favorite three studios were a Bikram hot yoga studio, a Baptiste power flow studio, and a great little place that held weekly restorative yoga. A bartender friend and I started attending Sunday morning restorative classes which gave us some space from the fast-paced life of Boston restaurants to feel our bodies and just shut the hell up for an hour and a half.
One Sunday morning, sun streaming in through the front windows amidst a particularly excruciating hip opener, the instructor offered the famous quote, “If you think you’re enlightened, go home.” I laughed along with everyone else and thought it was cute and witty. I didn’t have any idea how much this statement would affect me over the next 10 years.
Back then when I returned home to visit family and friends in Seattle, it was full of reunion, doing our favorite things, catching up and relating on mutually agreeable terms. My college friends were moving in some different directions, but we still had similar struggles in how to find our places in the world with idealism, creativity and some reality checks about paying rent and car insurance.
At the end of my year in Boston, I moved to Kripalu, a Yoga retreat center in western Massachusetts, and had two intense months of practice, introspection and growth. When I returned to Seattle in November 2006, it was the first time I felt…well, different. Like maybe my family didn’t understand me quite as well as they had before. Like maybe my priorities had really changed from those around me. And what do you know…judgment! So. Much. Judgment.
I had these recurring thoughts that my family wasn’t good enough, that their ways were so mundane, that they should (ugh!) be doing what I was doing. I judged their jobs, their habits, their food choices and mostly that they choose to live a life that was based in routine and patterns.
Here’s the first rub from the aforementioned enlightenment statement about going home: my family triggered a lot of the things I realized I didn’t want to be anymore. When I get triggered, one of two things happen. Either I freeze and just want to crawl into a hole and hide, or I get upset and reactive and want to yell and scream at whoever offended me. When this happens, there’s not much chance of me responding with compassion, kindness and patience and things tend to turn into a conflict or an argument and elevate more.
I didn’t know before I had left for those first few years away that my family that everyone had unspoken agreements about how I was supposed to act within the family dynamic – as a sister, daughter, aunt, cousin, niece, granddaughter. They assumed I was the same as the last time we saw each other. As did my fiancé who was living in Seattle. And his family. And my college friends and high school friends.
During those beginning years on my spiritual journey, I started resenting my family for simply being who they were and who they had always been. And, man, that’s not fair to them.
I was frustrated by the things I was and was not supposed to talk about and ask questions about, like why we did the things we did and what was the motivation behind my family’s lifestyle, something maybe they didn’t think too much about. I wanted to have all those deep, mysterious conversations about authenticity, spiritual practice, ways to transform my inner and outer landscape and the like.
I made the mistake that nearly everyone makes when “coming back” – a term I grew to resent more and more over the years of coming and going – believing that what I was talking about was more important than what my family was talking about. That how they lived their lives wasn’t good enough. I will admit I said some very hurtful things. And I hated being in my hometown.
I especially hated being in the suburbs. A lot. I had grown to love city life and country life, but the suburbs are a confusing jungle somewhere in the middle, in my very humble opinion, and I get lost with the miles of strip malls, unpredictable traffic, airplane noise, and very sad expressions on people’s faces. Suburbs drained me. And my family’s routines drained me, too.
Early in 2007 I took my first adult trip into the wider world: 3 months of WWOOFing (Willing Workers on Organic Farms) in New Zealand. I was joined by a friend from Kripalu, someone who was in a similar place of shedding the old and attempting to live a conscious life. It’s great to have compatriots and commiserators on the path. We spent a lot of time unpacking our emotions, recognizing our patterns and saying how we wanted to be free of all of that. And we were living it thousands of miles from America, from our families, the places we get stuck, and in the midst of living with Kiwis – the most grounded, connected and open people I had met as a whole.
And then I came back to Seattle again in 2007 – to my awaiting fiancé and family, which was really hard. So hard, in fact, that the relationship with my fiancé ended abruptly and I spiraled into my quarter life crisis and picking myself apart for not being on more solid ground by the time I was 27.
After the very challenging breakup, I grew to resent being in Seattle even more. The worst part for me was that I was living in the suburbs on the eastside of Seattle. It was actually a very sweet location, just above the Redmond farmlands and Woodinville wineries, but it was at least an hour from my family, 30-90 minutes commute to my music teaching jobs, and the other random work I took that year to cover the rent, like bartending at a golf course.
I wanted to leave again so badly that I was taking it out on everyone. I was even more bitter towards my very, very patient family. And then finally my mom gave me an out. Out of the blue one day she sent me a job ad for teaching English in Korea, which led very quickly to my first overseas teaching gig.
So did I get all that resentment and frustration out of my system? Alas, no. Which brings up my first lesson about digging up things with your family.
Lesson 1: Go wherever you want for as long as you want. Your lessons will be waiting for you when you get back.
The universe is patient. Very patient. Your karma is there to work out with your family whether you like it or not. And if you’re like me, you probably don’t. I ran away from my lessons again and again, but they were always waiting like an eager puppy ready to pounce and lick my face when I came home.
After three joyful, independent and sometimes lonely years among expats, travelers and Yogis, I once again came back home. My return to the Seattle suburbs in 2011 began with some peace and settling in, as I lived at my mom’s house on a lake, had long morning practices and spent regular time with my niece and new nephew. I was happy to be home and inspired to become a full-time yoga and music teacher, hoping it would all come pretty easily.
And it did. Until it didn’t.
I craved the company of people who inspired me like my expat friends had, to be around people who threw caution to the wind and jumped on a plane to the Philippines at a moment’s notice.
You can grow and change as much as you want while you’re away. When you come back, most likely your family will be pretty much the same as you left. They’ll be enjoying similar routines and patterns while you might be a completely different person with different preferences and habits.
Whatever is waiting in the shadows will come up at some point when you go back home. For me, it’s the way my family talks to me and pretends like we haven’t hurt each other over the years. We like to live in the realm of “everything’s okay.” That feels to me like being in denial about our years of stuff that we could be working out and forgiving each other for. We could be developing new patterns around our triggers – pretending they’re not there does not make them go away. If that were the case, we would be the perfect family model.
This continues to be a struggle today. Last week, my mom said to me, “Aren’t you over that yet?” about some childhood pain. Sure, it was 20 years ago but no, I’m not over it yet. So as I work on forgiving myself and my family, I invite them into the work, too. I can choose to say things to my mom like, “Actually, I still have some hurt feelings around that. And I don’t blame you. I’d really appreciate it if we could talk about that.” Another example is a conversation my sister and I had recently about our co-dependent relationship patterns. I find that by acknowledging our familial patterns with acceptance instead of denying them and playing the victim/martyr empowers me to make better choices in the present. And I can see how it helps my sister also uncover some hidden motivations and maybe feel free to make new choices, too.
I’m not sure that everyone feels that way, yet. We’re still learning, I guess.
Lesson 2: You’ll probably need to relearn how to communicate with family.
If you need something different, you have to ask! This is very, very hard for most of us. And even if you do develop the language to ask, your family members may not be able to give you what you need. Or they may have some resentment that you’re not appreciating them the way they are.
Let’s face it: most of us haven’t spent a lot of time negotiating and communicating about how we talk to each other. Maybe you’ve gotten good at that with your chosen family or close friends, but there is a lot more freedom to do that with people you don’t have 20+ years of history with. And a childhood. And guilt, shame and all the other things we build up conditioning around. Not to mention that our parents are doing the best with what they were given. Do you think they have any more tools of healthy communication than you do? Not likely, unless your dad happens to be Rodney Yee or Jack Kornfield.
Most of us live in our family patterns our entire lives without changing them. We hold the same grudges, speak to each other with the same tone of voice – like passive-aggressive, martyr, straight aggressive, even abusive and toxic patterns, etc. It takes a tremendous amount of courage to change these patterns and ask for something different. But someone needs to. None of us were born with perfect families. We all have karma and stuff to sort out in this lifetime – with our family members. That doesn’t mean we have to come back to abusive situations or make amends with everyone. Maybe our lesson is to make an empowered choice for ourselves not to associate with certain people. Maybe it’s to develop more compassion. Maybe it’s to forgive. Even Ramakrishna, the 19th century enlightened master, was said to scream at his family for their material ways and lower vibrations. I don’t know about you, but that makes me feel better about my family dynamic.
I recently had a talk with my mom about when I was going through PTSD a few years ago and how challenging that was for my family. I took all of my frustration and irritation out on my family and reacted to literally everything they said and did. Nothing was good enough or accepting enough. My mom and I had a great conversation about how I could have asked for help and that they really just wanted the best for me. That gives me a lot of courage to ask for help next time and to let them support me, no matter how messy or uncomfortable it is.
Saying to your parents, “Don’t talk to me like a child,” isn’t going to create new habits. It will probably make your parents feel hurt and get defensive. And please don’t make the mistake of trying to create new patterns while you are feeling triggered or reactive. That will only make things worse. Make some intentional time to talk to each other when everyone has ample time and has eaten (hanger will ruin any good conversation). Bring up a particular pattern, like how they are critical of your job or your partner or some way you feel pressured. Or maybe it’s asking them to express their love or respect.
The same strategies can work for developing communication with your kids! Set up a situation where everyone is comfortable and relaxed, start with some positive conversation or appreciation, then express something that you’d like to change or bring to everyone’s attention. Maybe you’d like to spend more time together, for them to stop asking for money, or to hear that they appreciate you. Ask them for exactly what you’d like and express that you’re doing the best you know how and are willing to make changes that will help them, too.
When we get into these conversations in my family, there are a lot of “Huh! I didn’t realize that hurt you,” or “Well, I’ve never thought about that before.” Give them the benefit of the doubt that if they knew they were hurting you, they’d change. And if you want things to change, take up the difficult responsibility to compassionately and empathetically ask for those changes.
Lesson 3: It takes a lot to accept your family just the way they are.
My students are often asking me about “outgrowing” their friends or finding new community that they can better relate with at this stage of their spiritual growth. If you look back over the last 10, 20, 30 years, you’ll probably notice that your closest friends have shifted more than once. They revolved around your job, your hobbies, where you were living, your spiritual choices, etc.
We get to choose our friends and also choose new friends or allow new community to come into our lives as we change. I find that the people I choose to spend time with these days are people who are on a very similar trajectory as me. That has changed a lot in the past 10 years. I still stay connected with a lot of my communities from the past, but I don’t feel I need to cling to friends I had during other versions of me as we’re growing apart.
That is not the same for your family. We only get one birth/childhood family, plus the new members that are picked up along the way like brother-in-laws and stepmoms. We only get what we’re dealt. So as we change and grow into new versions of ourselves, recognize that they might feel left out. They spent your lifetime loving you the way you were…and now you’re different! In 2000, my mom and brother moved to Australia for a year. When they returned, they were both remarkably different. They had spent the year shedding their skin, taking new adventures and living outside their comfort zone. It was a process of re-balancing for everyone when they returned.
Part of why I love traveling is going to places where no one knows a thing about me and I can show up fully present to what that moment needs. It’s easy to put down baggage when it’s not attached to my immediate surroundings. And part of why I love coming back is because the hugs, kisses, and chats are so deeply familiar and filled with years of collected understanding.
I can clearly see some of the lessons I need to learn from my family – notably patience, forgiveness, communication, and empathy – and why “coming back” is so necessary for me. Going away is very important too. Now I have a fresh perspective on the roles I play and the assumptions I have about where I do and don’t fit in. I’ve experienced what family looks and feels like to different cultures and can recognize that, although my family is far from perfect, they are really trying their best and are willing to support me if I just give them a little guidance and recognition.
Lesson 4: You will get triggered by your family. And you can create new patterns.
Home is where most of our programming comes from. We grew up with a whole bunch of samskaras, patterns or habits that create neural pathways and behavior patterns that we live from our whole lives…or until we learn to rewire them. We can get to the bottom of these motivating thoughts and subconscious programming with a lot of intentional work, like counseling, yoga, mindfulness, ecstatic dance, creative writing, coaching, etc. Eventually we can unravel the causes of our suffering and stop living the same patterns and triggers day after day, year after year, triggers which are often tied to the sights, smells, and memories that we grew up with.
It’s possible to be proactive about the habits that exist in your family dynamic – even if they aren’t your fault or were formed during your childhood – and intentionally create new habits that will keep you present and kind. For example, I really don’t like my sister comparing my lifestyle with hers and complaining about how I spend my time. I could retort, “Well, you’re the one who chose to have kids,” (which I totally have said in the past), or I could say, “I hear you. It’s really tough to raise three kids mindfully. How can I support you?”
Practice with people outside your family who can deal with your upsets and triggers. Role play the hard conversations with people who can give you feedback and hold you through challenging memories. Play the worst-case scenario game and play around with how you would respond to your family member getting really upset by what you are offering. Most likely what actually happens will be easier than that scenario.
Conflict is a natural part of relating. No matter what your family dynamic is, there is conflict on some level. For real. Every relationship has it. If you’re like me, you tried to live in denial of this for a long time. Maybe the conflict in your family lives at the surface and feels constantly volatile. Or maybe it’s buried deep and never mentioned. Be aware that all families have their challenges, their miscommunications, their minefields. Take the lessons you learn on your path into your family dynamic without expecting others to change. But watch out for that judgment and expectation that your siblings should be changing in the same ways you are. That will only create more stress and disappointment.
The patterns that exist in your family have taken decades to create. Even more than that, they are probably ingrained from your parents’ parents and maybe their parents, too. Kindly introduce new ways to communicate and appreciate each other, but don’t expect everyone to jump on the bandwagon. Just because it feels good to you doesn’t mean it feels good to others right away.
I’ve recently started digging up some core wounding around my parents and siblings that I’d love to share with them. I also realize that if I open that can and pour out the contents, it will surely cause some pain. So we talk about things slowly, little by little. My mom gives me time to explain the things I want her to know and I give her time to deal with it in her own way. We’re still working on it, but there feels like a lot of space to talk about things we used to keep tight under the rug. Sure it’s uncomfortable, but every time we uncover a little more it feels like years of tension being lifted.
So be kind to yourself. And be kind to your family. Set the habits that will keep you present and kind, that will keep your love tank full. Remember, you’re in for the long haul with your family. Things take a loooooooong time to change. Years. As another teacher of mine says, “slowly, slowly.”
Queer Tantra: A LGBT Approach to “Shiva Meets Shakti”
Polarity and sacred union are fundamental principles in Tantra. From the consciousness of oneness, or God, there comes the twoness, or duality. The two are lovingly named Shiva, the principle of pure consciousness and direction, and Shakti, the principle of energy, power and manifestation.
David Deida describes this duality as the banks of a river -“Shiva”, and the water flowing within -“Shakti”. The banks hold the flow, but the flow also carves the banks.
In spiritual sexuality and sexual Tantra, we reach unity when Shiva and Shakti become one, uniting through intentional practices, rituals and lovemaking. This takes our human consciousness from duality, how we normally experience reality as you and me, black and white, hot and cold, to nonduality, the consciousness of oneness.
I first learned all this six years ago in a Tantra fundamentals workshop taught to a group of heterosexual attendees by a couple of heterosexual instructors. As a bi-sexual woman, I got the message that I was included in the sexual practices of Tantra, when I was with men. Maybe I could give other women yoni massages or support female journeys and transformation, but I couldn’t possibly reach these ultimate levels when I fucked my girlfriend. Could I?
Read the whole article on Omooni.com.
Polyamory is Figureoutable
I’m a newbie to the poly world. I’ve only been living in conscious non-monogamy for the last six years, more or less consciously depending on the year and day. The surprising part is that I couldn’t tell you why it started. I heard a lecture on polyamory, had big triggers and mental blocks, thought I would never consider it, and then a month later I wasn’t interested in monogamy anymore.
Not only has my approach to dating and partnership been flipped on its head since then, but my whole life has changed paradigms. It continues to do so regularly. I have been influenced by all of the partners, lovers and configurations of polycules (see below if you’re unfamiliar with this term) I’ve been in over the last six years. And through much trial and error, yes I have made a lot of mistakes, and the support of many lovers and partners, I’ve come up with my ideal way I want polyamory to look in my life.
Just to clarify, this article is not about how to overcome jealousy, find compersion or deal with the stuff that comes up in poly relationships. And it is not to help you decide if you want to be in a non-monogamous relationship, although it might help people considering non-traditional relationship structures.
The intention of this article is simply to offer a few ideas of how to uncover the non-monogamous relationship structure you want, clarify the conscious non-monogamy and open yourself to playing within these structures as they change with each new arrangement of people. And, finally, I hope it helps you to find your own boundaries, desires and the non-negotiable things in your intimate relationships.
Read the whole article on Omooni.com.
What’s Next or What’s Now?
I have been beyond blessed this summer to spend time, both in Seattle and in the beauty of the northwest, with friends, family and loved ones. I danced and loved at two yoga festivals in BC, spent time with the goddesses in my family in Leavenworth, took a spontaneous trip to Whidbey with my beloved partner, and have more adventures planned for my last weeks in the Puget Sound. It’s time I answer the question of, “So, what’s next??”
I have two more weeks teaching musical theater in the Seattle area, along with wrapping up the Transformative Women’s Journey, leading Diving Deep: Yoga to Open the Heart workshop at Three Trees Yoga, and starting a 4-week discussion series called ‘A Practical Guide to Karma Yoga: The Path of Action,’ also at the wonderful home of Three Trees Yoga in Federal Way. If you’ve been curious about how to take your yoga practice into every moment of your life, through your words, actions, and work in the world, this series is for you! Then, beginning August 25th, I will be attending a 4-week intensive CELTA course in English Teaching in Tacoma, so my homebase will move to Federal Way for that time. And then I “plan” to take off around the 1st of October with an English teaching contract somewhere in the world…yet to be manifested!
My last offering of the summer will be a special something that is still brewing. I hope to announce it soon. Stay tuned for a juicy and connecting time that will re-set you on your path through the rest of the year. I would also love to connect with you in my northwest tribe if we haven’t had the chance yet.
As I immerse in the flow of the Universe moment by moment, I find myself laughing and crying at Shakti’s expression of time, the paradoxically limiting and expansive force of our existence. Intimately knowing both groundedness and restlessness, I am surprised to awake each morning to one less day in Seattle and one day closer to the next adventure. Of course, that’s all not real because the Truth is actually what’s unfolding in the present, not the past or the future. I set the intention to show up to every hug, prayer, teachable moment, candlelight dinner, walk in the park, and frustrating thought, equally and attentively, and remind myself through all of those moments that we are not humans reaching for a Divine experience, we are Divine Spirits expressing ourselves through human form. And all you have to do is show up. Easy, right?
Choosing Partnership Over Fear
Recently, I’ve begun to reexamine the question “Why Am I Here”? You probably know that I believe everything exists for a reason, all at the right moment, and I trust that I am being led…well…somewhere. What I continue to be surprised about is that it’s not leading me anywhere but here. This is one of those truths that, I think, we “know” but don’t really know. The path doesn’t lead us anywhere but where we are; it only awakens us to actually being where we are. Through the divine medium of Love, I’m still here, in Seattle, in America. As much time as I’ve spent trying to be most other places, I’m here.
Digging through some pretty big barriers of fear, I decided to forgo my plans to return to South Korea and instead stay with my new partner, Circus, in Seattle. Together, we plan to go back out into the wild to experience whatever Life calls us to experience. Together. Together isn’t something I thought I wanted or recall asking for, explicitly. And yet, many of my teachings are based around surrendering to the divine through Love. What I perhaps forgot is that we are always offered exactly what we need and get to make a choice if we are ready to really take it, or not. I choose yes. I choose yes.
I wish I could say it’s been all bliss and roses since. When we are in the bliss of union, trust, limitless love and surrender, it is certainly bliss. But we live in everyday life, too. And in that everyday life I have habits and patterns I am less than proud of. (And letting go of that shame is high on my list of priorities, I assure you.) You could call it karma, too; ways of living that have been imprinted on my mind from countless previous relationships and experiences.
When you are doing what you are used to, things don’t “come up” all that much. And that was my happy, single, spiritual life. I have surely wrestled with the spiritual teachings of celibacy and isolation and have come out the other side knowing that connecting with another soul, or other souls, is a valid and beautiful path to realizing the union of yoga or whatever you want to call it. And it can rock your very foundation, crack apart what you think you know about life and love and expectations, and leave you falling into the abyss of surrender. But isn’t that the point? Aren’t we going for the “Beginner’s Mind” as the Buddha calls it? To see every moment as the first time, without expectations? Aren’t we trying to rid ourselves of patterns, habits, ego-grasping, etc., etc.? Maybe, maybe not. For me, I am reminded every day that connection – or reconnection as I experience it – is a way to see and recall the Divine in every moment.
They say Tantra is the highway to discovering the Truth – Tantra meaning the interconnected web of life, samsara, Shakti, experiential existence, as opposed to the pristine isolation of the soul. And it’s messy and sometimes chaotic. It doesn’t always feel good and calm and perfect. What I continue to learn from the amazing love I experience every day – from so many people – is that life isn’t supposed to be any one way and I’m not supposed to know how to “navigate” it. Truly living in the moment means letting go of what we think the moment should look like or feel like and just experiencing it as is, for the first time. Because every moment is the first time. No two moments are the same and nothing can be recreated or experienced again.
So I unpack what I think life is supposed to look like, what a spiritual teacher is supposed to do, and ask myself “Why Am I Here”? And when I let go of my own expectation, I come back to simply trust that I don’t know and I don’t need to know. Well, in a way, I do know. I feel when I am in line with my truth, when I am doing things that feed my soul and surrounding myself with people who challenge me to be the most compassionate and honest person I can be. I am here to experience and awaken and to share that with you. What I don’t know is exactly what that is going to look like. And that is certainly okay.
One of my favorite teachings is that the amazingness of life comes from its unknowable and unpredictable nature. Even on that day when we wake up and really realize that we are of the same stuff as all of creation, we still get to be surprised at what is around every corner, the beautiful people we run across, the lives we will affect in ways we will never know. And for all of that and more, I must thank you for encouraging me to grow more into myself, just by us knowing one another.
What spurred this topic is having to cancel some really incredible things that I had planned to do today – some of my favorite things in fact – because of a physical injury. So I am lying on the couch in the house I share with my partner, in a bathrobe, trying desperately not to feel guilty, and wondering how I can be what I am supposed to be, how and what I can really give to the world lying on this couch and feeling sad and hurt. This is what I came up with: to continue to share my journey with you, one day at a time and one story at a time. And trust that it’s all enough.