I work hard at making change happen. More precisely, my efforts are directed towards improvement: getting healthier, fitter, faster, leaner, stronger, smarter, wiser, calmer, more balanced in mind and body. I don’t like to see decline in any of these areas.
A few days ago, I noticed that I’m able to do longer workouts with less complaining from the mind. You know, the experience of things ticking along nicely and before you know it the job is done. I accredited the development to being and training on an island where the pace is slower than my internal hamster-wheel, thereby supporting a mind that resides more in the present than continually jumping to the next thing.
But as I rejoiced in this progress I noted some fear. It said, “don’t look at it ’cause then it’ll disappear.” In other words, there was anxiety of losing what I’d gained. It was a fear of change; the very thing I want! Ah, but there’s the catch, I don’t want change if it equals a downturn. Yup, I’ve seen this before in my life: work, relationships, sports, exams, old family habits–don’t risk pain or loss by talking about it or rocking the boat. Admittedly, in my life this path has never worked out well, yet the pattern is still there.
What’s the deal with me??
Looking closer it’s seen… Fear of the unknown.
I know change will happen. I even strive for change–on my terms. I take full responsibility for promoting a direction that I want transformation to take. And I’m certain that without meditation, yoga, and intensive physical training there won’t be improvements. But I can’t necessarily control exactly how change manifests or where it will take me. That’s the unknown.
I’m learning to embrace that nameless space. Sometimes it comes easier than others. Sam Jones, when speaking with Rich Roll (#RRP 126) about cultivating one’s authentic voice, said, “There’s a valuable lesson in letting a story present itself to you and not trying to be so controlling that you feel like you have to take it in one way. …You have to be aware of what’s going on, but be open minded.”
Ok, so what do I do? I trust.
I entrust myself to the process, despite habits to the contrary. I do this by reflecting on the flowing sensations in my body and balance in my mind when I commit to the process. I take refuge in the truth of Rumi’s vision, “There is a morning inside you waiting to burst out.”