Yesterday in Year of Inquiry people read their worksheets at the beginning of our call, as always (and as I also say to everyone….if you don’t have a worksheet, you are ALWAYS still welcome).
Scenes of being left out emerged, or fear of criticism.
I rotate people in to take turns offering the thought to question, and the woman whose turn it was shared her situation with us.
A moment when she’s watching her partner express love and openness…..and it’s not to her.
The speedy quick lightening bolt of “I am left out” arises, almost without words.
The mind is so quick in its assessments, isn’t it?
I have one of those moments, from the past, and I still remember it vividly, it was so fascinating….
I was loving getting to know a man who I found very unusual, quirky and adorable. It was mid-life and after divorce and something about this man was very different and not the typical type of guy I had been attracted to in the past.
He was the facilitator/instructor of a dance I started attending. For a long time, I participated and noticed him and honestly, found it quite wonderful that he didn’t approach me, look at me, or try to dance with me. (I was very inward in a rather exciting, moving, wild way and dancing without words and without obligation facilitated this inward movement of change brilliantly).
The moment I remember so vividly was after this new man in my life had become a companion for a few months.
I was no longer so inward and quiet at that point. I had been attending almost a year, twice a week. I had made some new friends, pretty amazing and friendly people, and found myself finally breathing more deeply in this different chapter of my life.
On the freeform dance floor, everyone dances however they want, moving towards and away from other dancers, dancing alone, joining others mid-song, following the flow of your own movement without instructions, rules, or steps.
It’s a brave and strange experience, but then….not brave at all–just you being you, moving in a body.
I loved it.
One night, this flash of a moment, I looked across the dance floor to see my new companion dancing closely with a woman.
The music stopped, with a pause of silence before the next song soon began, but they did not part from a close embrace, foreheads touching. When the next tune began, they continued to hold still, close, together.
Suddenly a zap of adrenaline surged through my whole body.
I’m left out.
This means….
It’s almost without words, it’s so fast.
But it means something terrible, in that kind of moment. It means I’m abandoned, I’m lost and untethered, this is threatening in some way. That’s what the body is saying it means, as I feel the fear of zapping anxiety run through me.
The Work is about not ignoring this, or pretending it doesn’t matter. The Work is not about acting like you don’t care what you’re looking at disturbs you, or giving yourself a pep talk about how it’s not what you think and all is well and this is not a problem and you better not show you’re so insecure and already acting like you own him so get your act together.
That’s one of the things I love about The Work.
The Work says “tell me everything, everything, everything about that moment.”
That’s step one….allowing everything to come into consciousness that frightens you about a moment in time, and what you’re believing that causes you torture and pain.
I was left out.
Is it true?
Yes.
I’m not in that pairing over there. I’m over here, on the outside of the circle, on the fringes. Alone. Abandoned.
Are you sure???
Who would you be without the belief you are left out? Who would you be, how would it feel inside the body, without the notion that I am not included in something and I should be?
Whoooosh.
I’m back inside my body, without the belief I’m left out.
My arms move, my eyes take in lights, motions, dancers, colors, legs, arms, peoples’ feet, floor. The energy pulsates inside me. I hear music, flutes, drums, cello, horn, tambourine. I see so many other teeth smiling, eyes laughing, faces expressing all around me.
And over there, this new man I adore is in a tender pose, kind and connected with another human being on the dance floor, unafraid to show public closeness to someone else right in front of me. He is free, I am free.
Turning the thought around: I am not including him, I am not including myself.
I am filled with resistance to what I see, I am assuming it means something about me (it didn’t) and how I won’t get enough love, attention, connection. Or something dangerous, called abandonment or loss, might happen.
The turnaround continues, endlessly, to be true: I am included.
I am part of a human family celebrating to music on a dance floor. Together we are all sharing. I dance with others, including both men and women. It’s absolutely beautiful.
I am included in breathing the air, in sweating and drinking delicious water, in being here, body on dance floor….body on planet earth.
With this particular man, he is one of the happiest human beings I know, not seeking and grabbing for contact from others (or me) but very content within himself. He loves dancing with men and women, with strangers and friends. He moves with joy. He trusts himself. He is not intent on being worried about what I think (that’s my job). He has deep integrity, and loves honest talk.
I included myself later by being very honest, sharing with him that I had seen him hugging another and felt a surge of fear, and we had a fabulous conversation about intimacy, physicality, contact in dance, closeness, touch….
….and everything we’d ever learned about it and what we wanted to un-learn.
“Most people want to keep dreaming that they are special, unique, and separate, more than they want to wake up to the perfect unity of an Unknown which leaves no room for any separation from the whole….To the ego such uncontaminated love is unbearable in its intimacy. When there are no clear separating boundaries and nothing to gain the ego becomes disinterested, angry, or frightened. In a love where there is no other, there is nowhere to hide, no one to control, and nothing to gain.” ~ Adyashanti
Much love, Grace