I am stunned by all the responses and comments I’ve been getting to my question….”what are your barriers or sticky points when it comes to The Work?”
If you didn’t get to chime in, you can do it here. It’s one question, that’s it. Be as wordy or as brief as you like.
I’m so glad I’m asking people this question.
Once again, I feel very Not Alone when it comes to the intensity, the power, the fear or the resistance that can be generated in the mind.
You have been sharing quite deeply and honestly.
And the thing is, we all don’t realize we’re thinking a lot of the same things.
It’s like we’ve got this incredible “unit” (the brain) and it works quickly, it’s fantastic at identifying what might threaten us, and it’s running our lives!
Not always in a good way. You know what I’m talking about.
Stress. Worry. Sadness. Disappointment. Suffering.
But reading peoples’ answers about why they bump up against a brick wall when doing The Work, or why they stay kind of fogged out and unclear around how to handle their issues….
….I was struck by something I remembered Byron Katie doing in the recent Being With Byron Katie retreat.
She also speaks about it in Loving What Is.
It is that fear is extremely powerful.
(But not as powerful as love, I notice).
Fear is believing your stressful thoughts. Fear is believing you have cause to worry. It’s believing something terrible happened, and will happen again.
My daughter returns after being with her father for a week.
I’ve bought her a gift that arrived while she was gone. I say “I ordered you a shirt, I think you’ll love it!”
This is rare. I don’t notice or acquire many things, or gifts that are items. I like giving experiences and theater tickets and dates out and trips to special places.
She says “that’s funny, I ordered a shirt for myself, and it looks like the same kind of package.”
Sure enough, while she was away, she bought the exact same t-shirt.
She said with a critical voice “Don’t you remember, I used your credit card to buy it in the first place, and gave you cash? You don’t pay attention to anything.”
She sees me trying it on, now that it looks like I could wear it myself, and adds “and do NOT wear that shirt EVER at the same time as I’m wearing mine!”
I feel the sting of hurt, as I stand there in the kitchen with the t-shirt pulled over my summer tank top. I take it off quickly.
My mind says “she’s so mean” and “she’s so critical” and “she hates me” and “we haven’t seen each other in a week and she has to….” I have a reaction of sadness, then a defense that wants to push out at her.
It’s like an energy that wants to crunch down tightly around this moment, this situation, kind of like a contraction when I was giving birth to this same daughter. All the muscles tighten, the sense of air between us tightens, I want to go to my room.
It’s fear.
Mind says grand statements chattering away like “never!” or “always!” and “depressing!” about the way she acts, or how it is between us.
Is any of that absolutely true?
No.
Who would I be without these thoughts? Who would I be without the feeling of separation between ME and HER? Without me thinking she shouldn’t mind if I wear the same t-shirt as her?!
I don’t even want to wear that t-shirt, to be honest.
What if I could turn everything around I’m objecting to? Allowing it to feel like rain pattering in the room.
Lovely. Sound. Daughter. Shirt. Gift. Not.
She should say these things to me. I shouldn’t say all the things I say to her. I shouldn’t say all the things I say to myself.
Yes, like I shouldn’t use the moment to feel disappointment, or proof I’ve done parenting wrong, or to suddenly have a mood change from open and eager to closed and hurt.
I shouldn’t be following all my thoughts and jumping to wild conclusions like this means HATE and this means CRITICISM. I notice I’m lucky she’s honest, direct, blunt and clear. She’s very loving, too. She helps me slow everything down to simplicity.
Major discussions are not necessary. We don’t need to hash out things for hours.
She also moves on very quickly, not holding resentment. We talk later, like the t-shirt incident never happened.
I notice after The Work, I adore her. Even though she went to bed hours ago and she’s not in the room with me and nowhere in sight, except in my thoughts.
And I then think the thought that changes it all, in an instant.
Examples for why I shouldn’t speak meanly to myself, I shouldn’t talk to me with criticism. I shouldn’t say I’ve been a bad parent.
I’m an awesome parent. I’m doing the best I can. I’m being lived. I’m not doing this. I’m not guilty.
No fear.
A sense of trust.
Yes, also a mind saying “but what about tomorrow when this might happen again” but I don’t automatically think it’s true.
Katie answers a question from someone in the Q & A section at the end of Loving What Is: What if my suffering is too intense?
She responds: “In this state, it’s very difficult to do The Work for the love of truth because you’re invested in your story. Your story is your identity, and you’d do almost anything to prove that it’s true.”
That’s the power of fear.
I must prove my story (daughter hates me, is mean to me, rejects me) and this story is a bad, sad story. I cannot love what is. Impossible. Reality got this wrong.
Here again, I notice love is more powerful. If love is truth, clarity, willingness to stop and sit with this, willingness to give up my story.
I wrote an ebook looking at some very useful ingredients that helped me slow down and stay with this profound inquiry process known as The Work. Pillars to hold it steady, really.
The Work for me is not just a bunch of questions….it’s a way to open to a new, more expansive, mysterious world. A brilliant one.
I’d love for you to have the eguide: Four Pillars To Deepen The Work and Bring It Home To Yourself.
Let me know what you think, and share it freely with anyone if you like. I hope you’ll use it, if you’ve noticed your own blocks, barriers, walls or resistance to doing The Work, like you’re not finding answers bringing greater love.
“Stay until you lose your fear….Ego can’t stand up to ‘Is It True?’ in the silence.” ~ Byron Katie
Much love,
Grace