Continuing the theme of trust from the previous post, this one is the result of a conversation with the same friend who inspired the entries, Inhabiting The Silence and Relax Into (Your) Nature. Indeed, this entry is a repeat of what is written in that second piece, but it also goes a little further, suggesting that I allow a part of me to die whilst simultaneously enabling life to help me out.
My friend is an acupuncturist and during my latest session we talked at length about the imbalances in my body brought about by various injuries, operations and physical adjustments. For over 30 years my body has been continually adapting to the latest pain, first in my right knee, then my lower back, and finally my left hip. For decades it has been circling those three areas, on a continuous tour of the joints, muscles and ligaments seeking pain-free alignment.
The result is that I expend energy holding myself together, taking care to avoid further damage, pain, and inconvenience. Steadily – and stealthily – this has led to the conviction that if I don’t exert myself in this way, I will fall apart. (There are also psychological comparisons to be made here.) Our conclusion was that I can let go of that conviction. She summarised it succinctly: it has been my survival strategy, which is all about the ego, so maybe it has to die to release me.
I’m very happy for that part of me to die. The one which holds on tightly to itself, thinking it dare not let go. Far from a discouraging suggestion, it was an incentive. Not only is it healthy to let go of whatever does not serve us, when we do we create the space for life to flourish.
We explored further. We spoke about the significance of my issue of being looked after. As that entry details, my life had been all about one extreme – getting people to look after me. Karaj made me see that I have to look after myself, but as is so often the case, we are prone to going to the other extreme to make our point, which is what I did. Furthermore, it was not difficult for me to isolate myself from people’s help, as I had already separated myself from the world in many ways.
So I went from soliciting people’s help (to look after me), to closing the door on all help to the extent that I warned my wife-to-be when we first met, not to look after me. (She would even sometimes check with me, just to ensure she wasn’t crossing the line I had drawn.)
Having experienced the two extremes, it is time to find the balance of the middle way. Know that I am in good hands. Allow people to help me. Allow life to help me. Allow the Earth to support me. Allow myself to relax and trust that my body knows what it wants. Trust that my body knows how to heal itself; how to hold itself together. That really does get to the heart of the ego. Karaj always said we can’t do this work alone. We need each other.
Fascinatingly, and in line with the ingenuity of script, during the writing of this piece, the three main sources of my physical pain have collaborated once again. They even seem to have found a new way of inflicting familiar suffering. However, instead of succumbing to the discomfort and contracting further, I am seeking to relax into the pain, open myself up, allow life in, and trust that there are greater forces at work than I.
Going further, going deeper, I see – just as I am about to post this entry – that the two extremes have co-existed. One did not follow the other. They ran parallel. What a conflict. What genius! Invite help and then not accept it. What greater rejection of the world can there be? No wonder I am so tired all the time. I’m pushing and pulling myself towards two extremes, working to maintain both, when neither are healthy. Let go and see what happens. You will still exist. Moreover, you will come alive, you will tap into something you have hitherto resisted, and you will blossom more beautifully than ever before.