Why I cry on my mat

I’ve been reflecting on growth quite a bit.

Personal growth happens when we allow ourselves to change. It becomes painful when we see all the parts of ourselves that are holding on to old ways of functioning and we find ourselves in this in-between space.

A big growth edge for me in the last decade is shifting my inner state from chaos to calm.

Meet Chaos:

Chaos works really hard. Chaos believes working hard is the path to worthiness. Chaos feels like she needs to take care of everyone before taking care of herself. Chaos likes to be a martyr. Chaos is a loving and attentive mother to all children equally at all times.

Chaos likes being in a state of constant overwhelm. Chaos likes to numb the feeling of being overwhelmed with marijuana and sugar. Chaos feels safe in the patterns learned from childhood. Chaos does not know how to identify Calm.

Meet Calm:

Calm is relaxed most of the time. Calm takes her time and knows no urgency. Calm experiences life as easy and flowing. Calm is compassionate with herself and everyone around her. Calm is forgiving and soft. Calm has a steady and devout personal practice and a gentle approach to life. Calm knows Chaos well and loves and accepts her. Calm forgives Chaos for all the havoc she wreaks. Calm knows every day is a new day to begin again.

Calm is the woman I have been becoming for 48 years. Calm is the result of my diligent practice of the 6 Facets of Conscious Living. Calm is my essence.

Yet, Chaos still shows up in some form every day.

I find the more that I intend to cultivate inner calm; the more life hands me circumstances to practice that.

Alzheimer’s has dissolved my father’s ego to the point where he doesn’t know how to eat a taco. I watch as my Mother tries to feed him. I watch him resist. I see his dignity challenged. I see my mother’s nervous system in chronic stress trying to hold on to what was. I watch their interaction and feel helpless and sad and mad and overwhelmed. I mourn my Dad and he is still alive.

I watch as my daughter heals trauma. Messy, complex and insidious trauma that has completely upended her life and ours. Here Chaos disguises itself as Calm by creating internal pressure within me to be calm and present and do all the right things all the time. Chaos tells me to “do better” when I fall short. Chaos wants me to believe that I’m not doing enough to help her or my family.

Chaos wants to stir all this pain into a story. Chaos wants to get so mad, sad and overwhelmed that the only possible relief can come from engaging with habits, beliefs and actions that are old coping mechanisms.

Calm reminds me I am doing my best. Calm reminds me that suffering is everywhere and compassion for myself and others is needed. Calm reminds me to open, open, open so wide and invite the pain in so it can move through me and out.

Chaos locks pain in. Calm transmutes it to Wisdom.

And so I cry. I cry on my mat. I cry during my practice. I cry through chanting and breath work. I cry for my dad and my daughter. I cry for my fear and insecurities. I cry to mourn old coping mechanisms that will never serve me again. I cry to transmute my pain to wisdom.

This is how I shift from Chaos to Calm:

I am present.

I am aware.

I fully feel my pain.

I am grateful and gentle.

I visualize the woman I want to be and how I want to experience my life.

I surrender to patience and trust in the flow of life.

This is a practice. An astronomical paradigm shift. The ultimate transformation.

This is the heart of Transform. Does this resonate? Do you need help shifting from Chaos to Calm?

I got you. This is why I am here. This is why my life circumstances keep teaching me more ways to cultivate calm. To be of service to others.

The next session begins in September. There are five slots available.

If this is your time. Take action.

Schedule a call with me and lets talk about what this shift looks like for you.

Alyssa
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