I’ve made a conscious choice about how to navigate the political chaos swirling around. I’m not playing. Don’t get me wrong. I know it matters. And saying I’m not playing is in no way a reflection that I won’t support a particular candidate. I will be voting. But I just can’t take the the non stop stream of nasty dialogue. I know if I pay attention to it I’ll get frustrated, angry and feel helpless.
When something bothers me, I ask myself a serious question. Is this something my gifts and talents can affect? Is this my work?
For the most part I’m pretty good at it. Most of us are in social settings due to social expectations. I am kind to the Wawa clerk, I bring an open heart to my work colleagues and clients. I support my friends and family during the trying times. It’s a little harder with my two teenagers but in the big picture I have an above average level of patience with them.
Practicing peace with myself is where it gets tricky. The lesson keeps coming up over and over again.
I think I am being kind and generous and offering peace. Yet what I can offer others is merely a reflection of what I can provide for myself. >
The equanimity and peace, forgiveness and love that I bring to my own foibles is all I truly have to offer.
It takes my breath away many days. No matter how many hours on my mat or sitting I do, I still struggle some days to do the right thing, to postpone a right now desire with an investment in a better future for myself and others, to take the high road versus getting caught up in anger and blame. I trip and fall often. It’s hard to keep waking up to just how vulnerable and human I really am. Then, I am shocked at how hard I can be on myself.
Maybe this sounds familiar? How do any us not lose hope?
I’ve realized one important detail about tripping, falling and being human. We can’t all be down at the same time. Over and over again when I’ve tripped, someone has been there for me. They’ve helped me up, brushed me off, kissed me on the forehead and wished me well. Sometime they’ve been dear fiends. Often they were strangers. Just a person who happened to be there, and saw me fall and cared enough to reach over to me.
While my own struggles have been difficult and humbling, the details fade. The beauty of that moment when someone chose to help me remains beautifully etched in my heart. I want to be able to reach out and offer more. Choosing to practice ahimsa for me, so I can offer more to the world, this is my work.
Maybe ahimsa is your work too?
Here is a short 11-minute ahimsa practice. Enjoy!
Be well…it’s a state of mind.