This morning I randomly opened a book to read: "Stay alert to the easy shift from the illusions of false expectations to the illusions of anger and fear that follow in their wake." It resonated. Recently our nearest neighbors have been partying and the noise just reaches out and grabs me and stirs something inside that gets me so riled up it is just ridiculous. My heart pounds, I get angry, I pace, I want to respond to the retaliatory impulse that swells up inside me by moving my stereo system outside and turning it on full blast. I want to scream at them to shut up. I find it hard to sleep, not because of the noise they are making (because I cannot hear it in my bedroom) but because of the noise I am making inside myself. It is really my own noise that is beckoning me to listen, to learn, to go inside. The illusion of the false expectation indeed shifts so very easily into the illusion of fear and anger. Of course it comes down to the deeper truth that I fear I am not worthy of love and that can express itself in sadness or anger. When I was a kid sometimes my parents would have loud arguments and fights, and it was so scary for me. I would be hypervigilant and stay up for hours listening mostly to the quiet, thinking I could spring into rescue mode the moment the fighting resumed. That impulse to stop the noise stays with me today although I can truly say that I no longer jump totally out of myself when I hear a loud noise. A teacher recently said that those of us who are most sensitive to outside noises tend to have a lot of noise going on inside ourselves. I think there is some truth in that. There is certainly nothing wrong in seeking peace and quiet, but to expect it to always be there may not be so realistic. Bayda writes: "Peace is found not through seeking peace, but through residing completely in what is."
There is a new yoga teacher in town that I really like. He teaches from the heart. He truly inspires me and helps lead me to that quiet place inside. He is an asset to the Austin Yoga community, a very warm welcome to Chris Muchow.
Monday, October 18, 2010
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)