This morning I’m craving the solitude I was in just a few days ago.
Life wears me out.
From dealing with my next-door-neighbor/ex-husband, my pre-teen daughter who is just as pissy and as subject to pain from stupid boys as I am, to the money I don’t have and the bills I have to pay, I want to get back into my car and find my cabin.
My heart is heavy this morning with everything going on around me. My flame seemed small during meditation, and my stupid ankle refuses to cooperate with lotus pose without a good 45-minute Primary Series warm-up. 0430 is meant to be the perfect time to meditate because your mind is most in-drawn at this time. But, mine was already chastising my heart for giving a damn about the text my ex sent that his feelings were hurt about something.
Sutras popped up to remind how to deal with him, but I’d rather he just go away.
This is supposed to be an ‘easy’ morning, when I don’t have to run out the door at 0545, but today I had a walking hormone in my kitchen who was more concerned about her leg-warmers than having a lunch to eat.
As I looked at her un-brushed hair and her haphazard outfit, I could see in her eyes the familiar pain of finding out the boy she likes has someone else. I wouldn’t care about my lunch, either. And it felt like there was nothing I can do to take that pain away from her heart.
So, why isn’t the world making it easy on me? Why can’t I live on cruise control with pretty hills and wildlife? I get upset that someone hasn’t come along to fix all these damned potholes. They’re ruining my day.
But, all of this is what my solitude taught me to handle. I’m here to help others heal. I’m here to show how to find your true Self amidst life. I’m here to remind you that you’re not alone. And, I can speak authentically because I’ve been there.
I won’t be heard unless my lip is bleeding too. I get that. And I welcome it.
I’d like to think that the worst is over for me at 30 with two nasty divorces, abusive relationships, life-threatening desperation, a giant ego battled, a free spirit to explain and then realize there’s no need to defend, a low-class income level with high-class taste, and the feeling that ‘no one will ever want me for who I am’ under my belt. But having it all come together now could potentially render me useless.
As I held my beautiful daughter, I reminded her of her true Self. I gave her my love and made her feel safe again. I gave her what I have learned that I need in those moments.
My great-great-grandmother was a Native American healer, a medicine woman. I’m told that she would would have her stillborn children in the field, bury them and continue to plow. Without the experience of pain, how else could she learn the strength to pick herself up and be there for another who has lost a child?
As a healer, you experience, but you cannot wallow…not for long, anyway. And, a healer must know which medicine to use.
Matters of the heart cannot be handled through knowledge, or a certain number of years sitting in a classroom. This type of healing wisdom comes only in the form of experiencing life.
So, my morning was kind of a bitch…bring it on.
Mikela Rae’s vision is to live in a way that promotes spiritual and consciousness expansion. Her passion lies in helping others develop mental and physical habits that allow them to find their true Self. In this way, one more soul is reconnected to the whole. She is an Ashtanga yogi, writer, consciousness coach, mother, ex-wife, trail runner, speaker, ranch hand, aircraft mechanic, cook, mystic, listener, healer and a bad ass. Find her on tumblr, twitter and facebook.
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Ed: Bryonie Wise
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