I am nothing

I am nothing. And it is beautiful. All my life I have been something. Striving. Expecting. Wanting. Not feeling worthy unless I am something. And today I realised being something is what was holding me back. Being nothing, is where it is at.

It started this morning when I was doing my sun salutations. As part of the Life Reloaded Program I am doing with BlueChip Minds, we have an 11-week goal. I have two (a Gemini will have two of everything). And one of my goals is to be able to touch my toes without effort. To be able, in a standing position, to fold in half to touch the ground with the palms of my hands. To have my head on my knees, with my legs straight. I have been working toward this goal, reinstating my daily sun salutations which I fell out of the habit of doing each morning about a year ago.

I have been doing my sun salutations each morning outside. It is glorious. There is definitely something to be said for having a physical goal alongside another personal or life goal. It is through these sun salutations that I have come to understand my other goals, and my relationship with them. And not just as a ‘stretching’ metaphor. My sun salutations have delivered realisations.

I am connected

This morning, my first realisation was how what appears unrelated or disconnected is actually part of the process and having an impact. Everything is connected. I have come to understand a little more each morning how connected my body is from the very back of my head all the way down my back body to the underneath of me, the soles of my feet. All of this stretches together. It is not just an isolated point in my body I am stretching. It is not just my hamstrings or my lower back. It is every part of me stretching and working together to achieve the stretch. The tops of my feet, my thighs and my shoulders all play a part in how far I can stretch. As does the tension in my jaw.

My breath also has a significant impact. How I breathe while I stretch makes all the difference. I will never again underestimate the importance and power of the breath when stretching (or when doing anything!). Of taking in a deep breath to prepare and centre myself in readiness. Of what can happen when you move in the pause of the breath. Of the extension possible when you release the breath and surrender to the possibilities. My perspective shifted and was like someone had suddenly handed me a very cool set of wide angle lenses to look through. Suddenly, I had a much wider view of the world around me and my peripheral vision extended tenfold. I could see how things, which previously seemed unrelated to my personal and life goals, were having an impact. Regardless of their distance. How disconnected they seemed. Their indifference. They were actually part of this journey. They just weren't in my line of sight before. And unless I address or embrace these things, or at the very least acknowledge them, they will hold me back or get in the way. They will block the path.  I began to wonder…if I couldn't see them before, what the hell is beyond them that I am not seeing. I don't know the answer to that, but I cannot wait to find out. 

I am comfortably uncomfortable

My second realisation this morning was that I am comfortable being uncomfortable. To a degree. I enter the realm of discomfort with a level of confidence. I know I can face it. I pat myself on the back for crossing the threshold and achieving whatever it is that feels a little uncomfortable. I see the results. I can now get my knuckles on the floor when reaching to touch my toes, compared to when I started (unable to even reach my ankles) some 4 weeks ago. However, what I realised this morning is ‘little’ is an important descriptor for me when it comes to the word ‘uncomfortable’. It sets a boundary around discomfort for me. I am only skimming the edges of discomfort. I am playing it safe. I have stepped out of the comfortable space into the comfortable uncomfortable. I am not fully extending myself. I am avoiding the further realm of uncomfortable discomfort. In fact, before this morning I did not even realise this other realm existed. I thought I was playing in all spaces available. Nope. I was playing it safe. I was holding back. Again, my physical stretches gifted me this knowledge this morning. As the sun warmed the back of my neck, and my back released a little more of what it was holding onto from my night’s slumber, as the discomfort in my legs eased a little I realised this was usually where I stop. Because I can feel and see the warning sign up ahead which reads ‘Go no further or you will hurt yourself’. And so, I stop. It is the sensible thing to do. Except for the fact that where that sign stood was appropriate some 4 weeks ago, when I could barely reach my ankles. However, for someone who can touch her knuckles on the ground, this sign post is almost behind her. It is time to dig it up and move it further along the path. And that is exactly what I did this morning. And the results surprised me. The ease of the results in particular.

Staring at my knees and shins, this got me thinking. What other discomforts had I set a safe boundary around? What other uncomfortable spaces were now comfortably uncomfortable? Where else was I not stepping out into the vast unknown? Where else was I playing it safe at the edges? The edges of possibility?

I am nothing

Saluting the sun for her knowledge. I packed up my mat and sat in my spot for my morning meditation. I logged on to my class, settled myself into my garden chair and opened myself up for the practice. Every morning this week I am doing recollective awareness meditation with a group of people. The person running the practice shares a prompt, you sit for half an hour in stillness, without any guide but your inner self, and when the bell chimes you reflect on your practice in your meditation journal to see what you make of the journey. 

And this is where nothingness found me, and all the beautiful possibilities that go with her. This morning's teacher shared in her prompt how doing nothing in meditation was part of someone’s definition of meditation. She shared that she took this ‘doing nothing’ into her life and how it felt to simply ‘just exist’ for a while. 

Although doing nothing in meditation makes sense to me, and I am comfortable with this idea. I felt immediately uncomfortable about the notion of doing nothing in life. Of just existing. It was a strong reaction. The questions came quickly. How would I achieve my 11-week goals if I just did nothing? How would I achieve anything in life if I just did nothing? The paradox of a paradox is it always holds the answer.

And so I sat with it. And this is what came to me.

At first I identified I had an issue with the language. To ‘just exist’ felt like the state of ‘barely existing’ or that ‘existing’ wasn't enough. Neither were holding the true sentiment of the original phrase. The latter feeling contradictory. 

From there I could hear my favourite line from Deepak Chopra about ‘being’ rather than ‘doing.’ So I followed this thread. I thought, perhaps it isn’t about doing something but about being something. Maybe the trick (yep, I was looking for a trick) is that, for example, you are being the meditator, rather than doing the meditating. I am a meditator. I am alive. Instead of, I am living. I am a writer. Instead of, I am writing. Is it about the being not the doing? I wasn't sure.

This lead me to a interwoven thread. Another quote I heard a while back that I love and carry with me into my days. ‘What follows I am, follows me.’ Again, it is about being. The language was right. I am a meditator. I am alive. I am a writer. The pieces seemed to fit together. But only momentarily. There was a niggle. Words from a previous practice on the weekend, about the Buddha’s lesson around there being no absolutes. I am a meditator. I am a writer. They felt so absolute. Perhaps, I thought, it was language again, perhaps it needs to include the word being. I am being a meditator. At this stage I was fast becoming a tangled mess, as the word ‘being’ felt like I was ‘doing’ something and they seemed to be one in the same!

And then I asked myself. What was it to be nothing? What would it feel like to be nothing. And so I tried it. This was where the magic started to happen. Being nothing felt good from the start. It felt light and open. Being nothing, I saw a patch of dirt where any number of flowers or plants could pop up. It had multiple possibilities.

Being nothing, I became the sound of the wind in the trees. The warm sun. The call of the birds. This felt surreal. But beautiful. 

And then I realised. Being nothing was to be something. You cannot have something without nothing. And then I realised it was more than this. Being nothing is to be everything. To be anything. There were endless possibilities. Being nothing was beautiful. Limits dissolved and possibilities show up. 

When I stretch I am something. I am the belief that I am inflexible. I am the belief that I have tight hamstrings. I am the belief I will always be this way. I asked myself, what might happen if I show up as nothing. How might I stretch? What might my body show me? What would happen if I showed up as nothing to any situation?

Endless possibilities. 

A quote shared in a previous class, seemingly unrelated before now, suddenly made more sense.

‘Once you trust yourself, then you can start living.’ Goethe.

Once you trust yourself to become nothing. Then you can start living any possibility.

So this morning, as my heels magically touched the ground for the first time in my life without effort as I was in the downward dog pose. I let go of my beliefs. I let go of who I am. I was no longer something. I became nothing. And from there, the possibility of teaching yoga appeared.  And as yoga is where people often find meditation, it just made sense. I have always planned to make movement a big part of my meditation teaching. And when I have incorporate it, the feedback is the movement often enhances the meditation. And as stretching your body and moving can heal your soul. It just felt right with the direction I am travelling at the moment. And so, I set myself an additional 5-year goal. 

In five years I will be teaching yoga, alongside meditation, alongside my writing. And I will be a great teacher. I will hold space for people to stretch and heal. I will also be able to do a head stand, unassisted. (Anyone who has been in a yoga class with me and seen my refusal to do any kind of inversions will appreciate the enormity of this for me. Teaching yoga is much less confronting than the head stand.)

 Yes, I have given myself five years to achieve this (let’s not get too uncomfortable). But if I end up doing it sooner, I will let you know. 

I am nothing. Therefore, I am.