Month: February 2019

Yirah: magic fear

Earlier this week we had a friend over who had recently watched the documentary series Inner Worlds, Outer Worlds. Her multiple references to the program over dinner inspired us to snuggle up between the ancient crackling fire and the modern flat screen TV to watch part one. Full-bellied and sipping cups of tea, the boys took it in with a mixture of perplexity and boredom until the violin scene. In this scene the camera showed a violin being played before a tray of sand and the sand responding to the frequency of the music by forming beautiful geometric patterns– familiar to anyone who’s seen a mandala or indigenous pattern on a piece of art. All of a sudden Gus was jumping up and down, covering his eyes and begging for it to stop.

I don’t like magic! Magic is scary! Shut it off!

At the time, I thought it was super cute and interesting, especially coming from the boy who still believes in Santa and begs to watch any scary movie his brothers may be watching. The next day the scene was still at the forefront of my mind and worthy of a mention to a close friend. Today I’m seeing the relationship between Gus’s reaction to the magic moment in the movie and my reaction to seeing and feeling magic in my life.

Often I feel chills as I realize the power of sending a wish, making a vision board and more recently creating my first altar of intention. The tingles come when I sense the universe is responding to a question I have posed or a request I have made. When I ask to learn something and the lesson-opportunity shows up quickly, or when I have a flash of insight and the lesson gets reinforced by a story in my newsfeed or a book recommended by a stranger, I feel connection to the universe. I sense the role I play in co-creating and conversing with her. Lots of times this whooshing feeling of connection feels empowering, supportive and delightfully playful, but other times I respond like Gus.

I don’t like magic! Magic is scary! Shut it off!

And then I do what humans do. I eat it, social-media distract it or busy it away until I feel I’ve landed back in my comfort zone (albeit a bit numbed and detached). Eventually, I am ready to crawl back out, so I make the wish, set the intention and the cycle begins again.

Awareness is the first step to change right?

I am hoping with awareness of my fear cycles I can begin to shorten the time I spend in the disconnected zone. Besides awareness, another catalyst for change is looking at things from a different perspective. As someone who has dealt with anxiety since my teenage years, I welcome a better understanding of fear. Recently I’ve been reminded of a long-forgotten interpretation of fear that is helping me to reframe my anxiety both around the sacred and the mundane, which I’m finding more and more to be one in the same.

According to Rabbi Alan Lew, the Old Testament speaks of two different kinds of fear.

Pachad: an overreactive, imagined and projected fear that sees danger and threats; the panicky lizard-brain fear for survival that often includes unconscious thoughts such as rejection could destroy me or I could combust if I step out of my comfort zone

and

Yirah – the fear that overcomes us when we suddenly find ourselves in possession of more energy than we’re used to, when we’re taking up more space than we’re used to and when we feel that we are in the presence of the sacred

I am betting that both 9-year-old Gus and myself are experiencing moments of the yirah type fear. We can sense that the sacred is being made known. This is weird and scary, so we want to stop.

But it’s also exciting.

Perhaps being able to more specifically name the fear as well appreciate that humans have been experiencing it for time unknown can help us ride the sensation of awe and connection with a little more trust.

And joy.

Better problems

While basking in said glory of having up-leveled (see my last post), I didn’t stop to consider that this new spiral of the video game would mean new challenges to content with.

New level + new tools = new issues. Duh.

Although I’d love for a new notch in my belt to mean a walk in the proverbial park, the challenges keep coming.

This sort of reminds me of something I read in The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck. The author, Mark Manson said problems never go away, –they just improve. Warren Buffett’s got money problems; the drunk hobo down at Kwik-E Mart’s got money problems; Buffett’s just got better problems than the hobo. So here I am with my “better” problems than I had last year at this time, at that lower spiral in the video game.

This February, instead of being all bent out of shape like I was last year because other people didn’t plan things the way I wanted them to (sibling trip), weren’t considerate (didn’t ask what I wanted to do on Valentine’s Day) or didn’t love me the way I wanted to be shown (endless complaints in many directions), I am planning my own damn trips, realizing we all have different desires and learning to care for myself, or at least ask for what I want.

Though I’m doing a much better job planning proactively, accepting differences and communicating, I still wind up in the valley of self-doubt and stumble into the entrance to the cave of black and white thinking due to the new things I’m learning (and the things I’m getting to learn again, but better this time). The difference is that this year, I can get out much quicker. I can see myself approaching the cave and pull myself away from it. I can see myself in the valley and say things like, here I am again; look at me being all sad and feeling defeated, acting like a three-year-old. What’s this about? What do I know for sure to be true? I can ask myself what tools I may I need to get out of my toolkit in order to exit and maybe even if it’s okay to stay in for a bit.

Sometimes I feel a bit foolish posting about how great things are and how much I’m learning only to have the next day feel dark and lonely, but with reminders like the one above from Mr. Manson, I know I’m not alone, and I know that these challenges are but invitations for growth. Sometimes it just takes a moment, a day, or a week to decipher what I’m being invited to learn.

Heart cage expansion

Basking in the afterglow of a lovely Valentine’s Day, with a full heart I realize I have made it to a new level, as if I’m participating in a live video game. I have earned some sort of badge that has launched me up a rung on the ever narrowing spiral of vertical development. (I can almost hear Mario sounds). Although I’ll continue to have trials, I know it will only be possible to fall so far, due to some sort of safety net. Perhaps it’s the support system I’m building, the faith I’m cultivating, or the expansion of my physical heart space and the softening of the tendrils surrounding her. In the future I may feel like I’m sinking lower than ever, but in reality I won’t be, because the learning I’m doing is integrating at a cellular level that my gut says is impossible to un-know.

My body and spirit know that…

I am deeply connected. To all humans, blood relation and non. To the earth, to the rivers, to the whole vibrating planet with all of her multiple legged and sans-leg creation, and this web of connection is un-severable.

I create my reality. With spoken and unspoken words, intention and attention, I choose what to see and how to interact. Even if I find myself in physical constraints, I get to decide which thoughts to entertain.

Pain is a blessing. She lets me know I am alive and what part of my body or psyche needs care and attention. She lets me know when a relationship is asking to be examined and handled with care. She is my canary.

Fear is a portal. Like pain, fear provides an entry point for growth and understanding, as well as access to magic. She lets me know when I’m approaching the sacred. Without fear, courage doesn’t exist, and with courage the game cannot be played.

I am worthy of joy. Extended happiness, even bliss, doesn’t mean there is a monster waiting to sabotage. Joy doesn’t mean I’m cheating or not pulling my worldly weight. Joy is part of the human condition I am cultivating.

I have helpers and guides everywhere. Whether in the etherial form of angel and ancestor, or the concrete form of my favorite authors and podcasters, they are always present and ready to cheer me on.

Sisterhood support is for real. My blood sister, the sisters I circle with, and the women I meet on the street know what I may temporarily forget, and they are willing to remind me of my innate wisdom when I may need a gentle nudge or a firmer push.

All this is really truly sinking in. I see it in the resiliency that I am demonstrating, the paradigms that are shifting, the conversations that are evolving and the beautiful life that I am co-creating.

Thank you universe, for partnering.
Thank you friends, for supporting,
Thank you family, for sharing lineage and story.
Thank you medicine wheel, above, for showing me just how playful this game can be.

Finally, thank you, Max, for gifting a token of love and validation yesterday, and for launching me into the biggest realm of growth I have ever known: motherhood.

xoxo,
mm