Metamorphosis

“Called beyond the confines of this
chrysalis by a force I cannot see
or name, I am compelled by pain
and something bigger than myself
to leave the protection of all that I
have known. There is struggle, doubt,
an awkward setting forth. Finally I
break free of the cocoon and find
myself surrounded by air and light.
I dare to act, still not knowing what
I am; instinct, or maybe faith bids me
move forward, make the leap, explore
this mystery of change and flight.
I find myself with wings that dwarf
my former world. Unfurled, they dry
quickly in the sun. I, who expected
to spend my days crawling, now
teach myself to soar. Such a rush
of wind and freedom that first
flight teaches me more than I had
learned in a lifetime of crawling.
- Going In and In | Danna Faulds

This closing quote, shared by my friend Shana, has had a huge emotional impact on my relationship and appreciation of my practice. 

Right now I'm reading Teach Only Love By Gerald Jampolsky which has helped me further understand exactly why Danna Fauld's quote has had such a huge impact on my life. In Teach Only Love, Gerald mentions how we come into this world breathless-- literally. When we are born, we gasp for air because we don't know what breathing is. Gerald goes on to explain how many people, even as they "grow up", still live in a suffocating nature of breathlessness. This isn't to say that our lives are so amazing that it's taking our breath away. This is commenting on the human tendency to suffocate and drown in our problems-- LITERALLY. How often do we go through emotional struggles that end up altering how we breathe? We break down crying and our breath comes out in short wisps, we may even hyperventilate. For example, someone we love dies and we go into shock, possibly forgetting to breathe for quit some time-- ironically forgetting about the very essence of what keeps us alive. 

In the physical body the way we breathe is often ignored. In a recent anatomy lesson, we had a student go in front of the room as we all watched her breathe. We noticed she was naturally only breathing into about half of her lung capacity. Most of the time we're barely allowing our bodies the oxygen it can hold, the oxygen that it needs! Once we addressed that, the student started forming a wave-like figure in her body in relationship with her breath. There was a rise and fall in her chest AND stomach. For me this was eye opening. Pay attention to where you breathe and where you don't. I've spent much of my time breathing solely into my chest, completely ignoring my stomach's capacity to hold and release oxygen. This is a limitation I put on my body, as well as many more.

Looking back on how I've handled things most of my life, I noticed patterns of holding on and resentment. While accepting whatever struggles came my way and portraying myself in a way that said "It's okay, I'm fine", I never stopped to admit that some times I wasn't. I pushed my feelings deep down wherever it is they go, and they sat there. At least that's what I assumed they were doing until I paid more attention to how I acted towards the people around me and the way I treated myself. I was hurtful and impulsive, impatient and wounded. And for a long time I operated this way, accepting the person I was becoming without realizing it wasn't the person I wanted to be. Only through yoga was I able to recognize that I was imploding with feelings of resentment and anger about things I refused to talk about. Awareness of this limitation I put on myself allowed me to open up both physically and internally to myself and to others. Without this awareness I would've continued to go through life mindless; gasping and struggling- failing to recognize the potential in myself, in others, and in the "mundane" everyday-ness. 

Now I see myself trying new things with vulnerable fearlessness. I see myself forgiving people, telling people how they make me feel, and then letting go of the negative emotions that are no longer relevant. Things I would never have expected to be able to do, things I would've accepted not doing- but things I need to do in order to continue reaching towards fulfillment.

"I, who expected to spend my days crawling, now teach myself to soar."