As I lay there on my back on the sheepskin rug, tears rolling down my temples, their supportive hands on my heart, my belly, my forehead, arms and feet, listening to one of my sisters sing me a Sundance song, their eyes wet with feeling...
I remembered what I'm truly made of.
And what I'm not made of. And what you're not made of.
I've recently had a whole new inner-growth spurt, where I feel like I'm moving through my stuck places with an ease I've longed for for years. It feels like a big relief and really exciting to me to be feeling this free!
For me, this type of quickening often coincides with the flow (not ebb) of my yoga practice. Do you know the feeling? Suddenly, new aliveness became available in my inner thighs and pelvis, my lower back tension began to melt away, and I'm feeling stronger than I have in a long, long time. Generally, I feel like I can do anything and my creativity is roaring.
So I'm sharing my interview with Colleen Millen with you at the perfect time! As a fellow Somatic Psychotherapist and Forrest Yoga Guardian, Colleen knows a thing or two about breakthroughs.
The political conversation is LOUD right now. Blaring. From Facebook to real-life conversations to the therapy couch. (Yes, it's bringing a lot up for a lot of people).
But why is no one talking about the inner process of the political season? The psychological and spiritual impact of all the division, hate, and aggressive communication going on? Have we simply forgotten what it is we're committed to?
I used to be a card-carrying member of the Cult of Busy and it almost killed my Spirit.
It's embarrassing to admit because as a Psychotherapist, it's my job not only to help people heal, but also to know a thing or two about what makes a healthy and high-quality life. For me, though, my teachings usually come from my own hard-earned lessons.
Rumi, the 13th-Century Persian poet and Sufi mystic said,
"Your task is not to seek for love but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it."
We're a culture that's damn confused about love. Partially because actually choosing love is a rigorous spiritual discipline. If it were simple, it wouldn't hold the transformative power that deep, spiritual practice promises.
One of the things I love most about my life is that I have an extremely rich dreamworld. I have dreams that are clairvoyant, that inform me about the deepest recesses of my psyche, that offer guidance, and that connect me with The Sacred. I wake up each morning with anywhere from 1-6 dreams. They help me live my life from the truest, deepest guidance and connection possible.
I feel lucky enough to have a practice of consistently doing things I don't want to do, going where I don't want to go, and feeling things I don't want to feel. Meeting my edges. It's called Forrest Yoga. And I've been doing it for 12 years now.
This week I sat with a client who finds it hard to trust at times. Can you relate? I certainly can. Occasionally in my life, I've found myself in a rut of not trusting, and generally (though not intentionally) sucking the fun out of everything because I just can't surrender control.
A friend recently gave me a piece of her art. It contained the words, "love yourself in a deeper, truer way." The next morning, I sat with a client who's making strides in her process to peel back her wounding in order to cultivate a core of self love at the center of her.
She shared how she's learning that loving herself is so much deeper than just acceptance, just saying nice things to herself here and there.
Oh man. This February has been brutal for me! The harsh cold, wind, and lack of sunshine this year has really sucked, to be quite frank. And I've watched my morale sink. I (and apparently most of my friends) want to hibernate, so I haven't gotten as much quality contact as I need. I've been working hard long past when the sun goes down.
Alright, let's just be honest here. Most of us (all?) have had our moments with addictions. A big claim, I know. Here's how I define addiction. An addiction is something we choose to do (usually something repetitive) instead of feeling how we feel. We go outside ourselves and reach for something when we can't tolerate or metabolize the level of emotional stress present in our bodies.