The Resistance

GAAHH I’m having such resistance to writing on this blog! I feel like they just turn into long boring “status updates”. But as much I didn’t want to do it, I clicked on my stoking life bookmark, the “write” button, and here I am. I have to rid my mind of the wish to write the perfect post and JUST DO IT. I may not even edit.

This is what my journal looks like. If you’re familiar with morning pages you’ll know it’s a practice where you just keep writing without stopping until you fill a certain number of pages. Even if you just write “I have nothing to say” over and over and over. So here goes.

It’s 11:43 am and I haven’t brushed my teeth yet. I ate a 1/2 an avocado in the skin with a spoon for breakfast. I rearranged my room so my altar is  in the alcove and I may get a curtain later to hang in front and keep it more sacred. I just had a great phone call with a friend and we had a big belly laugh…. she hadn’t washed her face yet and I hadn’t (still haven’t) brushed my teeth, and I told her that when I was rearranging my room I found 7 decks of tarot cards and 8 malas and I complain I can’t go on a retreat “HOLY SHIT I’M SUCH A PRIVILEGED WHITE CHICK!” We started cracking up, sharing our “it’s so hard to get out of my comfy bed in the morning to meditate” “where is my motivation to run” “it’s too late to do my yoga because it’s hot (so sunny and beautiful) now” “I have too much spare time and have to be careful not to watch much netflix or I get depressed.”  “Im kinda sad today, it must be the moon.” I mean I could go on and on it’s so fucking ridiculous.

When we were done laughing at ourselves we were left with an incredible sense of gratitude fir our freedoms and agreed to remind ourselves of how incredible our lives are if we start to whine. At the same time we do need to be gentle with ourselves and realize that self-care is new to us and imperative to our sobriety. Making a habit of it can be hard work. Pushing through the resistance is necessary and it helps to have sisters in recovery who get it. 

wow, this is almost turning into some legit content. I was just tempted to hit post and walk away.

But I won’t.

I have a list of posts and I don’t want to write any of them right now. One I’ve been avoiding is about the upheaval and grief and some actual trauma I felt last January when my Bachelors/Teaching credential school plans got yanked out from under me the day before my 3rd year classes started. I turned it around in my mind to acceptance within a few days, but found myself sobbing with grief a few months later. I still evidently had some processing to do. I realize I could still go back next fall, and it’s still an option, but I knew if I had to take a pause I might lose my school mojo. I did but it has been replaced with mojo for something even better, I think the universe knew what it was doing, as I suspected.

She Recovers is the largest online recovery platform for women in North America, with over 250,000 followers and sold-out retreats around the world. They created a coaching designation to better serve these women and I’m currently working on completing it, along with just over 20 other women. I’m really excited to be a part of this organization and to start organizing retreats and serving the She Recovers community in California. I feel this has a lot more opportunity to be of service and is more up my alley than being a teacher. The security and benefits would have been nice but the pay still wouldn’t have been enough, even if I found a job, and I’d be stuck with student loans!

Ok so there’s that, I don’t like to talk or think about school because even though I know I’m on the right path, I’m still a little raw from the jolt that redirection gave me and I really really did love going to school.

Listening to Modern English Pandora, Dancing with Myself…

I went back to my Buddhist Center, my spiritual home, a few weeks ago. I’ve gone a handful of times in the past few years but always with a sense of guilt because I stopped doing my practices consistently a few years ago. With my divorce and bouncing from home to home and different job schedules and oh yeah, the partying, it fell away. But it never left my heart. I never put away my altar or my Dharma books. I’ve been going to Refuge Recovery this past year and have developed a consistent daily meditation practice so when I went to my center a few weeks ago it occurred to me that I could do my Tibetan practices again now that I have that structure! It’s been a little over a week and it’s all coming back to me. I told my friend last night I was happy to find my Lamas are still in my heart, they never left, and they were never even mad at me. They were in there watching, protecting me, and knowing I’d be back the whole time. I feel strong and loved and there’s a richness to my experiences. 

I’m going to hit post in minute, thank you for reading as I attempt to smash through this writers block and clear some blog cobwebs away.

Pretty in Pink just came on Pandora, I’m going to turn it up loud.

PS I edited this šŸ˜‰

4 thoughts on “The Resistance

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