“You are alone but you are not alone”. Actually, it was more like “You are alone AND you are not alone”. That’s what my intuition was telling me.
I was confused and lost, trying to clear my mind meditating in the park. I needed that guidance, and that was all the Universe could come up with? Come on. But who am I to question that inner voice?
Therefore I let it be. I know it will somehow be explained to me eventually. No kidding. Later that night, I got my answer, listening to the Lively show podcast.
Santosha. This Niyama from the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali means that the wise man knows that in all that is perceived there is both Sat and Asat, the end and the middle. You are doing your best AND you are at the same time accepting whatever the result is. You are full of everything and everyone. There is no duality. You are alone AND you are never alone as you are part with this whole that includes all of us.
Let’s believe in ourselves for a second: even though this idea seems to be very counterintuitive at first, we are smart enough to accept this paradox. We can understand if we let it be that we can feel sorrow and joy at the same time. It’s not an either/or situation, never. Reality is much more complex than we can perceive it to be at first when we let it be.
I needed that. I needed to understand at that time I was not alone. Inspired by Brené Brown’s work, I had chosen to be brave. I dared greatly. I jumped into the arena. I showed up and revealed my vulnerability.
It hurts. What happens when you dare greatly isn’t always pretty. Often, you end up with your face in the mud. Right now, I have my face deep in cow manure and it stinks.
Over the last few days, I found my foundations shaking. The solid land I had started to build my life on is more or less like moving sands. I thought I was so cool. I thought I was so lucky to have it all figured out before thirty. Reality checked in with me, and I got slapped in the face, which explains the face down on the ground.
However, I still prefer that to the other option, which is basically to live in shame, afraid of trying in case you wouldn’t win. I believe there is really no other way around to make it worth it. If you want to live wholeheartedly, you have to get dirty.
And it’s not pretty. Every time you get into the arena, every time you choose to play, you are at risk of getting hurt. It’s part of the game.
So the choice is yours. You either sit in the bleachers or get on the field. Be careful though, because if you do choose to play, you might get caught up, so caught up in the game that you will forget that it is all for the purpose of serving your soul. This game is nothing more than the perfect occasion to grow and expand yourself, by failing and learning. It’s about finding something to make those long days a bit more exciting. It’s about having fun.
It’s still a game though. It matters a lot AND it almost doesn’t matter, which is a good thing to remember when we get hurt, or when things don’t go our way. It’s also important to remind ourselves that the game will eventually end. Don’t confuse it with reality. Be moved by it, get lost in it, but always remember at some point that it is what it is: a game. We are much more complex, powerful, wonderful beings than the players we are on the field.
Oh, and BTW, this game is a team thing. You cannot play by yourself. You are never alone.