Jealousy and What I Care About

I am thinking a lot about jealousy and hiding, today.

These aren't things that I'm proud of. When I realize how much I hide from the world, because I am ashamed of things that matter to me, I realize how much I am disconnecting from the world. My pleasure isn't separate from anyone else's, though when I ignore my feelings, I often let in other energy when I really need a barrier. I need to maintain my own story, so that I can navigate.

The jealousy that I feel is the ease of connecting. The jealousy that I feel is a lack of worry. The jealousy that I feel is having an identity of who I am. The jealousy that I feel is having a secure place in the world. The jealousy that I feel is being fearless. The jealousy that I feel is of making beautiful things. The jealousy that I feel is the ease of being around others. The jealousy that I feel is having a voice and a choice. The jealousy that I feel is that when I say something or do something, people actually pay attention. But then I deflect and a hide so much, out of shame. What would it be like to be unashamed? Totally open? Totally dedicated? What if I could see more connection, instead of comparison? What would it take for me to feel glad at another's fortune, instead of jealous?

Gaza

As I watch Democracy Now this morning, my energy level boosts up. No longer am I worried about the small issues of my mind, but I am able to see the larger violence of the world, and things that matter much more than the particularities of my life. I am able to see the larger scope of the world of which I am a part, and see all of the systems that I lie on top of. The food I eat, the car I am driving in, the oil that I use to heat my house, the clothes that I wear, the internet that I use to gain the access to information: I want to be a warrior of peace. I don't know what that means, yet.

As I did yoga this morning, I noticed myself settle back into myself. It is a practice that brings me back to myself.

What can I do? What can any of us do? I see that it's important to take the time to learn about the world. It's important to take the time to observe and reflect on my life. It's important to take in the energy that empowers me. It's important to discern what I choose to protect.

My family. Our well-being. Our connections. Our support of each other. 

connecting

          I'm writing this from the Olympic Peninsula. The water is flat and expansive. I watch my aunt drag sea kelp along the beach in order to roast it in the oven later. I've just come from Bellingham, where I signed up for classes for the fall, when I begin as a junior at Fairhaven College.

          I've been writing on the beach this morning. Taking the time to journal has helped me process a lot of the new information and feelings that I've been having. Yesterday, I felt so disoriented. I wept in the car as my mom and I drove here, I felt sick to my stomach, I felt like I was sitting in the middle of a raincloud. The episodes that I have like that are disturbing to me. What's hardest is the feeling that I need to hide them, when they are actually what is the most important thing in my life. The more I have an awareness that I am deeply disconnected from my being, the more I am aware that life doesn't have to be like that.

            I've begun reading Dan Siegel's book, Mindsight. I've been thinking a lot about trauma and the brain. I've learned new terms, like hyper-vigilance. Siegel writes that the parts of our brains that feel physical pain overlap with the parts of our brain that hurt when we feel a social rupture or disturbance. Deep trauma causes us to form patterns in our brains of stress, anxiety, and depression. The increasing awareness that I have that I am "not myself" feels like a sign that I am becoming more aware of that trauma.

                Integrating the brain means going into those places of trauma to understand what has happened in your life that caused you to begin forming those patterns in the first place. Feelings of shame, or avoidance of other people, feelings of disconnection from myself, feelings of emptiness or fear- the more I learn that these are not fixed states of being that I just have to deal with, but can actually go into and become more of myself, the more I am obsessed with this research. Mental health and well-being is as important as physical well-being. I would seek help for a broken leg, so why not for a traumatized brain?

                The program at Fairhaven encourages each student to go into what they are interested in. I'm seeking out more help and empowerment as I become closer to myself. I met a couple biking from Vancouver to Portland, and they started the Indianapolis branch of Food Not Bombs. We spoke of what it means to be food-secure, and that by lowering the cost of living, she was able to work less and have more time to devote to things that she cared about. I'm interested in how all of these things are related to mental well-being. The disconnection from our land, our 'ownership' of it, how much we work, how the media has caused us to see our bodies, our relationships, our place in the world, what pleasure looks like.

          Though I feel selfish to write this, I know I am actually finding more connection with myself. It is a search for a  lifestyle and practices that are sacred to me, which is part of a greater movement of changing the narrative of our lives. I have an intuition to go more into these things that I've struggled with, to find connection through them.

          My yoga practice has become more important to me. I find that going to yoga three times a week is a necessary way to check-in, feel calm, and cultivate the place in me that I feel the most calm and collected. The more I'm able to do the things that I love, like reading, or being in the garden, or sharing food, or playing music together, the less I am trying to prove something, but am instead able to learn what a sustainable lifestyle is for me.

Deep Ecology: We Can Change the World By Being Who We Are

           I've been dreaming of a home. I'm moving out of Portland in a month, to my next home in Bellingham, WA, where I'll finish my bachelor's degree at Fairhaven College in the field of therapeutic arts and group process. Joanna Macy. Charles Eisenstein. Wendell Berry. Expressive Arts Therapy. Interpersonal Psychology. These are new terms that have been entering my world. My own experiencing of depression, anxiety, panic attacks, eating disorders, self-judgement, and fear have lit a fire under my butt. It's all I can think about. I know I'm a bit of an old woman. I know I'm kind of serious. Sometimes I shut down my feelings and sometimes I am bitchy and cranky because they don't know how to come out yet.

            I've been going to a Presence Practice, or Empathy group, led by Vika of the RoseCity NVC group. This has been one of the many revolutionary practices that Portland has given me upon returning. The group practices active listening as we recount our experiences to each other, say how alive each feeling is for us, and then allow time for each person to process their emotions.

         The Integrated Arts Festival was another amazing experience. There was so much richness in the EarthBody/Body Story Panel discussion given by Mary Seereiter, Barbara Ford, and Damaris Webb. They introduced me to BodyMind Centering, Deep Play, and Authentic Movement. Barbara Ford sang the lyrics: "We can change the universe/ by being who we are." Joanna Macy writes about the buddhist notion that our pain is the pain for the world, and therefore it is meant to be listened to. At the panel discussion, Barbara Ford said, "Everything that you do is important. Your knitting is important."

              This is hard to remember when I feel as though I'm alone in the work that I'm interested in. Deep exploration of emotions and how the arts practices can be a release and a processing of them can feel like a scary place to go. The other night, I began crying during my yoga practice. I just released in a shower of tears. There was a small part of me that was enraged that I was feeling depressed and anxious. "This isn't me!!" I screamed inside. It was an angry part. Angry that my emotions were being bottled up inside of me. Angry that I was so self-judgmental. Angry that I was so stressed. Angry that I thought of my life in terms of a calendar.

           All I want to talk about lately is about therapy practices. I feel like a window has opened, in a way to be present and let out the energy I've felt that has manifested itself into pain from cultural conditioning. I've had a rough spring of anxiety and panic attacks, and my mind has become scattered and homeless. It seems like all I can think about lately is healing practices of re-wiring our brains to change our patterns.

       

            This is my new friend Kiri. I met her at the panel discussion of Earth Body/Body Story. She is working on finding the wild places in herself again, and doing amazing work in deep ecology and grief. More connections that I'm making in which people are experiencing the same need for change helps me drag myself out of my hole of isolation, and begin to connect my sadness and anxiety with a larger story. She reminded me that "the most personal is the most universal."

            What is enough? What cultural stories am I living out that are no longer working for me? Stress, and isolation, and comparing myself with others. Regulating myself, instead of letting energy flow through me naturally. Being ashamed of my emotions and of my body. Making myself smaller and apologetic. Rushing. Taking on the whole world.

            "Appreciation is a mindful practice," is a note I wrote down from the panel discussion. Sometimes I don't want to be appreciative of the shitty feelings I have! Especially when I begin to compare my privilege to the conditions other people are living. I am appreciative. But I also want to be angry, and sad, and I want to acknowledge my needs. Depression and anxiety are real things. Panic attacks are real things. What am I doing about it? What are we doing about it?

          As I sit in the room I am renting right now, I am writing for my new friends. I am writing to my friends who are going through the closing up of their emotions. I am writing for the anxiety of our culture. I am writing for the depression and hopelessness. I am writing for social angst. I am writing for new ways of being. I am writing for those who have also felt this call in their hearts. I am writing this for me, and I am writing this for you. And I do not think those things are separate.