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Brush Your Shoulders Off

This is a great reminder for me. I know there are people who are on the cusp of doing something different and new and this will tip them over.

We come here free of baggage. Maybe there is truth to heredity of pain, or cellular imprints of trauma. It’s possible. But I know, most of my own baggage was learned in childhood. I learned that I can’t always trust someone’s I love you. I learned to expect struggle and difficulty. Don’t be too happy because the other shoe will drop. Life is hard and unfair. If you’re not busy you’re lazy. If you’re not tired all the time you’re doing something wrong. Life’s a bitch and then you die.

Of course my parents didn’t intend to teach me these things. But we learn by more than instruction, we learn by watching and hearing. We learn by example.

As an adult I’m doing something else. I’m reprogramming my brain. It’s ongoing work. I think about my goals and look closely at the beliefs that aren’t serving me. I have mantras I repeat to myself when the old conditioned beliefs pop up. When I encounter situations that appear to prove that old conditioning, I ask myself questions before I react. Usually I find the conditioning is faulty.

The hardest part of this work has been letting go. Letting go of beliefs that don’t work for me. Letting go of behavior that got me the opposite of what I wanted. Letting go of expectations of others and conditioned expectations of myself. Forgiving people who hurt me. Letting go of all that and just fucking breathing!

My teacher Sarah said something this morning that I know is true. People are just doing the best they know how. This thought helps me let go. Sometimes our best is harmful to others, or perpetuates a cycle of trauma. Sometimes our best means we are mediocre today. People are shitty and it usually has nothing to do with me. It’s not personal. When someone’s best isn’t good enough for me, I govern myself accordingly. I remove myself and move on with my life. I do not carry their shit. I let it go. Now that I know I have a choice, I choose my own joy and freedom.

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Spirit

There are no others.

My friend and teacher @sarahkyoga posted this on her @omm_oxygenmaskmeditation page dedicated to helping parents of kids with special needs. I read this and I know that it is true. But I’ve been vacillating between truths lately.

On one hand, I know we are all connected, all beings chilling on this big ball in space in this moment and time. This is true.

On the other hand, I have never been more directly faced with my “otherness” in my life. I am a black woman in America. Unapologetically. In my lifetime, it’s never been more clear that this is not okay for a bunch of folk.

I see it in the rigged elections and drastically disparate criminal verdicts. It’s obvious in maternal mortality rates and differing standards for everything from property values to hair styles in dress codes. This is true too.

The second truth makes me want to flip a bird to all the folk who haven’t been vetted by my allies. This inclination has been getting stronger and stronger. But the first truth continues to stand. Continues to open my heart and my empathy to all of us. Demands more of me.

Both of these things are true. But only one of them is right. I have to choose what is right, second by second. I needed this reminder today.