Many of us are small children in adult bodies. Exhausted and emotionally reactive. We are threatened at the slightest provocation or conflict. We are choking on our fears. Pretending to be strong and in-control by hiding away those fears and insecurities that are killing us on the inside. For the fear of tarnishing our “image” that we have so carefully carved. However, being misunderstood can be seen as an opportunity to love one’s self more and let people think what they want to! Sometimes we develop immunity to change and self-limiting beliefs and face difficulty in confronting subconscious fears. Society seems like a monster as it’s “should” and “must” govern us. We get identified by labels and we live in the boxes.
In trying to become all the things people want us to become, we loose ourselves.
Dissociation and numbing are the coping mechanisms one develops while growing up. “I won’t think about it, I will dodge it. Forget it!”, “I am ok”, “I can handle it”, “I am strong”. We use anger to hide the pain within. We wear different masks. We create our personas. All these have caused more harm than we realize. Initially not getting that toy car or the barbie doll; missing the position of school monitor or captain; being left out by friends, not being invited to the party. Not getting that dream job or promotion or house, not getting married to that person, not being able to live in the country of dreams. So many things we need to feel sad about and grieve. Instead, we push it aside as “no big deal!”. We teach our children to “be strong” and “take it in your stride”! Let’s break the boxes. Trying to run away from suffering is running towards it. Being a hero is not about dismissing the hard feelings. It is about being brave and facing them. It takes courage to own up that grief, rejection, loss, and pain. Controlling emotions does not mean denying them. Acceptance is heroic. Grieving is an act of courage, towards not being comfortably numb to being comfortably conscious and receptive! It takes some unlearning to say “It’s okay not to be okay!” Enjoy the song by Marshmallow
That window creaked. The iron bars made the rusty screeching noise as a four-year-old pushed and pulled them. It was powercut at DDA flats Keshav Puram. This corner window was her favourite hideout. Swinging there was her refugee from the world. Wondering if those rusty bars break? Her eyes were hazy with tears. Loud silence prevailed in the monotonous night. She found solace in the darkness. Pitch darkness. No scope for shadows. Even at that age, she knew that some amount of light was needed to create shadows. Shadows were scary. Shadows are always scary!
I am an alien. She usually thought. I don’t belong here. Alien? UFO’s was an intriguing topic of debate among elders. Door to the fantasy world for a child. An introduction to escapism. It was a fairytale. It was so tranquil. In a blink of an eye, she was teleported. The cool breeze blowing on her face in the chilled winter morning. Aromatic flowers in the garden. Sun shone magnificently in the sky. Clouds taking different shapes with the blowing wind. Grass moist with dew. The park had small hills. She enjoyed to roll down from them repeatedly.
As small feet could not match the walk, her elder brother made her sit on his shoulders as they stroll in the park. It was their custom to sing songs. Beatles… “We all live in a Yellow Submarine…”, “Let it be…” Her brother would sing and those words unknowingly started to mean so much to her. Most memorable time of the day were those walks.
Nevertheless, shadows are scary. They are self-reflection. They mirror our own insecurities. It takes a great amount of courage to look at our shadows (self). Being alienated is so painful. Many times one cannot related to where he or she belongs to. Sometimes, without realising, one can live alienated to self. For the concept of self is quite complex. Nature grounds. Feeling of belonging, an identity, image of self. Music is meditation. It’s an expression.
Dysfunction sinks in the subconscious when we are children. We became what we see. All of us felt like revolutionaries at our teenage. Trying to do things our way. Trying to defy society, however, eventually, gave up to the will of our elders as we grew older.
Today, as I sit to do this shadow or inner work. Those shadows are as scary at 44 years as they were at 4 years. I realise, I still need to be a rebel. Not outwards but inwards. Rebel to my social conditioning. Examining each thought as it rises. To discern how much of me is actually not me but what people desired me to be. It is hard work trying to break the pattern. To sincerely try, that, I don’t give my children the same dysfunction I inherited. And I hope I am not too late.
Its the journey of unbecoming! Concluding with lyrics from Beatles song (Thank you, brother, for introducing me to soulful music.)
“And when the broken-hearted people living in the world agree There will be an answer, let it be. For though they may be parted, There is still a chance that they will see… There will be an answer…….. let it be!” (Beatles-Let it be (link below))
It was 2:30 am, 31st December 2019. The year was going to end in a few hours. She tossed and turned in her bed, not able to fall asleep. It had been a very happening year. A turning point in her life. Today she was reminded of someone. A kind lady whom she had met in the hospital some twenty years ago. The most challenging time in life a woman is, childbirth. It was past midnight. She was admitted to a ward in Jaipur Golden Hospital for a C-section. It was a planned Cesarean. Doctors had suggested surgery as the baby was breech. It was life-threatening for the child to go for normal delivery. At 23 years she was quite a child herself. It was her life’s first surgery. She was very scared. Hospital and those smells had invariably made her nervous. Past midnight an argument broke between her and her husband. she lay trembling as he shouted at her. Delivery time and stress got on her nerves and she began to cry. Seeing her cry he lost it completely and began hitting her.”You know I don’t like your crying drama!” He yelled and hurled a few fits of abuse. She felt as if everything was enveloped in darkness and the world was collapsing. She simply wanted it to stop. In those minutes she wished she was dead. All she badly needed was to be a reassured that everything would be alright. All her attempts to control tears were futile. She failed to understand why she was not being treated fair. She longed for a comforting hug and love that she thought was her due right, for, she was about to deliver into the world that tiny cute baby who would be the family’s pride. He was agitated. Instead of being comforted, she was hit on her face. Shocked and angry she began to cry loudly. This led to several slaps right and left. Her face was red and bruised, but her heart was smashed and broken. Totally in pieces that pierced her soul. She hid her face in the pillow and wept. After a while, she felt the need to use the washroom. Her husband had slept on the settee near the door. The room was partitioned into two parts with a plastic opaque curtain. There was a bed on each side of the curtain. The washroom was on the other side of the curtain. As she walked to the loo. The old lady who was lying on that bed signaled her to come to her bedside. She went to her. The lady held her and hugged her and cried. The motherly affection at this time touched her immensely. She hugged her back and wept. “How will you live your life with this man?” The kind lady asked her. Some questions don’t have answers. The lady kissed her. She lovingly said, “May God give you strength”. Some old ladies feel like blessings. She seemed to be an angel giving her the comforting hug that was so badly needed. She secretly wished that the kind Aunty should not meet her parents. She might tell them about the fight and the abuse. For some reason, she didn’t want her parents to know about the regular abuse.
In the washroom she wept her heart out. Suddenly, she realized that her water bag had burst. She panicked. Going into normal labor was dangerous for the baby. She prayed. The doctors had to perform an emergency operation promptly. For some reasons, doctors had to give her oral anesthesia. The surgery lasted for almost ninety minutes and it took her another two hours to regain consciousness. The mental state she was in after the fight and the anesthesia during the surgery together had affected her brain. She had gone into shock. Her senses had numbed. Her responses became sluggish and dull. She was in a different world altogether. Everything was distant and unrelated. She would continually stare at wall and her mind was blank. Many memories were that meant so much were forgotten forever that day. Little did she know her life was changed for ever. Wit and intelligence had once been her charm. She had lost it all. Recollecting who she was, where she was, what day it was, all started to take unusually long time. This dull-headedness continued for many years that followed.
Post operation, her discomfort was heightened by visitors. Although doctors had advised bed rest for the entire day, she was compelled to pretend that she was normal. Her in-laws, who were so opposing to what all the doctors said, came to visit her. She was forced to sit and walk, smile and chat for almost three hours. The nurse, who came to check her temperature, as a routine, was shocked to see it. She quickly made her lie down and informed everyone that while the patient is in the hospital, he has to abide with doctors advice. The crying of the newborn, would often bring her attention back from the state of nothingness. As she would hold the baby in her arms she felt a strange peace and calm descended upon her for sometime.
The shock-like state lasted for years. With passing years she got overall better as she began working full time. Anxiety still triggered the same trauma-like response in her. However, looking back she sees that the journey was a tough terrain trek. She saw herself as a soul on a journey, surviving the numb heart and the broken past! Healing always took time.
She was grateful to God for everything she had been through. She was grateful to the angels she met in the human form time and again, who have taught her the significance of empathy and compassion. It were these fragments of love and kindness along with her struggles and challenges that had navigated her into her current trajectory. She understood that everything that ever happened had facilitated the movement towards growth and ascension.
Sometimes there is a pattern in the pain It rises till you are insane, When you cannot tolerate anymore. You space out, numb till you feel it no more! And then it makes an exit. Yes, pain can be addictive!
Reikiwas “re-discovered” by Dr. Mikao Usui, a Japanese, in the early 20th century. Dr Usui rediscovered how spiritual leaders as the Buddha and Christ were able to perform miraculous healingthrough mere touch without depleting their own energy reserves. A deep spiritual experience led him to devote several years to the study.
Reiki (pronounced as `ray-key`) is consists of two words—`rei` and `ki`. `Rei` means a higher form of intelligence while `ki` is the lifeforce. Together, `reiki` is understood to be a kind of universal energy.
This system heals by raising the vibrations, of the being or object to be healed, nearer to that of the practitioner. Itis a multidimensional energy healingsystem, which can heal the cause of a problem at any level of — body, mind, or spirit.
As Reiki is guided by God-Consciousness, it can never do any harm. It always knows what a person needs and will adjust itself to create the effect that is appropriate for them.
Reiki is a system where the practitioner can do no harm
Musings - An Endeavour to writing 