Death and All Of Its Friends

It feels like I've been on the edge of a big shift now for months. I had that pain in my lower back this spring and earlier in the summer that just refused to go away, forcing me to get help for it. I started to hear my meditation cushion call to me -- didn't heed the call until just this week -- but I heard the call -- I took my hands off my ears and stopped loudly saying "la la la" to drown out the noise.

I mean figuratively saying la la la, which gets translated a variety of ways, including enjoying not just my usual one tasty alcoholic beverage paired with a meal or capping off a mountain bike ride, but having another more often than just occasionally. Being the child of an alcoholic and the grandchild of an alcoholic and a drug addict, I am finely attuned to the urge to numb and when I notice these urges visiting me more frequently, I tune in, take stock, and see what feelings I might be trying to snuff out without having to feel them.

Usually it's the uncomfortable ones; shame's high on the list, fear, pain. I'd list anger, but anger's got a way of finding its way out with or without my help -- it just comes out in healthier ways when I heed it consciously than it does when I'm less conscious. Plus, I learned a number of years ago that anger is merely a messenger. I don't say that to minimize its importance, just to note that anger comes to announce that something isn't right, some need isn't getting met, one of those other feelings (fear, hurt, frustration) is present but not being openly acknowledged.

I went to see one of my teachers last weekend, the one who taught me about anger, and she too sensed the big shift. She said it felt like a death, and, up early this morning, I turned on ipod shuffle only to have Coldplay sing its agreement:

All winter, we got carried
Oh way over on the rooftops let's get married.
All summer we just hurried
so come over, just be patient, and don't worry.
So come over, just be patient, and don't worry.

So come over, just be patient, and don't worry.

And don't worry.

Not worrying is definitely part of it. When I woke up at 4am this morning and didn't immediately fall back to sleep, I was content to rest, when before I might've fretted about what would happen if I didn't get enough sleep. Eventually, I rolled over to turn on the music, and now I'm taking advantage of the time I have to write while my babes are still sleeping, and enjoying the increasing clarity I get from both the music and the writing.

But it's more than just not engaging in worry. It's also giving up the struggle, in big and small ways. Learning to be with what is, because, like Chris Martin and friends, I don't want to spend the rest of my life fighting the same battles over and over again, many of which were with myself and ghosts from my past:

No I don't wanna battle from beginning to end;
I don't wanna cycle, recycle revenge;
I don't wanna follow death and all his friends.

Instead, I'm asking myself one question as often as I can remember it: "What can I do to be kind to myself in this moment?" I have a feeling this shift is going to have a profound effect on my life. It's already starting to...