#206: A Peek Inside My Crazy Mind

I jumped in quickly to write a lead in ahead of Amanda because, wow, I found this awesome!

 Thank you for this gift, Christina…wow. (And the four Posa sisters continue lighting up the world!)

I have…

...just one COMPLAINT…

 …the title…

 I would love for the sequel – I want there to be a follow-up or two! - to be titled “Inside My Typical Mind” while this one "Inside My Crazy Mind” suggests that your mind is, in some fashion, many standard deviations away from our own in how it works!

 What a gift this piece is, Christina! I thought of a quote about “our crazy minds” that resonated with me about five years ago and is one that I cherish so deeply on my journey:

 “To the extent that you stand in your own shoes and love yourself with all your craziness is the degree you can understand the craziness and confusion of others… and something happens: you are no longer afraid of people…” - Ani Pema Chodron

 By sharing your so-called “crazy mind” with me, Christina, it creates a ripple effect through me I intend to pass on.

 By sharing your inner mind, you also relinquish your “privacy” willingly in a day and age where all people seem to talk about is protecting their privacy! 

When I hear the word privacy, I think of fear. We want our “privacy” because we don’t wish to be hurt in some way, shape, or form by people knowing something about us. You relinquish your “privacy,” it seems, because (1) you have a lower than typical concern for being “hurt” to begin with and (2) because you are so generous in wanting to share the gift of your mind with us.  Another quote came to mind:

“For the sake of others you renounce your privacy…” - Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche

Thank you so so much, Christina.

-Pip

A Peek Inside My Crazy Mind

Blogger’s preamble: 

I’d like to start by asking: Has anyone else noticed themselves feeling unpleasant emotions a bit more often than normal this year? Maybe just a little? I have a hunch the answer is yes, but still it’d be great to know I’m not alone. Maybe in this reading you’ll find some not-aloneness as well. 

A Peek Inside My Crazy Mind:

How could I navigate the maze of my mind without first seeing the walls?

This question popped into my head in the middle of a meditation. 

At first I’d seen nothing. For a breath, or two, I’d settled into darkness. Stillness. I’d pulled fresh air through my nose and basked in the oxygen that filled my lungs. 

Ex…hale… 

…

The view from behind my eyelids is mostly dark with a few dancing colors - sparkles of blue and yellow. I draw in another breath, stepping forward into the vastness of this mind. But just as I’m about to exhale, something pops up. 

Is it raining?

A little question pokes its head up from under me. It wears a gentle face, eyes wondering, head tilted slightly to the side. At first, this is a small, almost enjoyable little thought.

Curiosity.

And I’m drawn in. But suddenly it starts to grow. 

When is it supposed to start raining? Should I take the dogs out now? Or maybe I should try to go for a run first. But will I have time for both before work? I still need to get back to the emails from last night. What if it starts to rain while I’m on my run and my phone gets messed up…

The little question is no longer a face but a wall graffitied with warnings in red ink. 

Anxiety.

I can no longer go forward. I must take this detour. But as I do the wall begins to grow in the same direction that I step. The faster I run the quicker it seems to build. And then I realize that it’s closing in above me. 

If I don’t go for a run, I know I’m going to feel like sh#*% later because I told myself I’d go for a run this morning. I need to take better care of myself. This is not the time to NOT be taking care of myself. I wonder if I’ve gained weight… What if my friends see me after three months of not seeing each other and think I look fatter? What if they too think that I didn’t take care of myself… But what about the dogs?

Self-criticism. Self-deprecation. 

The graffitied wall is no longer a wall but a tight, constricting tunnel, getting more narrow with every breath, every step. 

I am deep in it now. I am lost. And frankly, I don’t even know where I was going in the first place. Then suddenly, I notice. 

I notice that I built these walls. That I am these walls. 

So I stop running. There is a flashlight in my hand, so I shine it onto the wall beside me. I begin to notice the details of it. At the bottom is still the same little question, Curiosity, looking up at me. It smiles, excited I’ve finally noticed. Is it raining?!

I thank the thought for reminding me to check the weather and smile back. And as soon as I do she turns and dissolves into the wall. I let her go. A tiny hole is left in her place, and little rays of light poke their way through.

Then I look up at the much larger wall beside me. The warnings sprawled on the concrete have arms, and they’re reaching for my chest, poking their fingers towards my heart.

This one is harder. But I notice, and I feel. You are here. You are reaching out to be felt and I feel you.     

And as I feel, she is also felt. It seems this Anxiety has experienced my gesture of noticing almost as if it were a hug. She isn’t any nicer, but she’s finally been noticed and I think this has helped because now she turns and walks away. 

I let her go. 

And as she goes she pulls large cinder blocks of wall with her, opening the world to more light and a new path forward. 

I notice.

I notice there are still remnants of Self-criticism and Self-deprecation lingering above me, dripping toxic oils into my gut. I am being poisoned by them. I don’t want to be poisoned by them.  

I feel you. I know you are part of me. May I be kind to you. May I be kind to myself…

These poisons start to evaporate drip by drip, reverse raindrops into the vault above me. They no longer need to be there. 

I let them go. 

The tight tunnel that I’d found myself in is now an open field. I step in a new direction. I pull oxygen into my lungs. I bask in the liberation this brings me. 

I take two steps, then three. 

And then suddenly, something pops up…

…

This journey through my mind appears to be a forever-one. I don’t know what’s at the end of the maze or why I have to go through it in the first place.  

But what I do know is that where I am, with each breath and each step forward – now, today – feels a whole lot easier to navigate when I notice the walls. 

Blogger’s P.S.: 

I made it on both a run and a dog walk that day. I did, however, get stuck in the rain, but I kind of liked it. Actually, I really liked it. The emails were also sent. My phone is okay. 

I am okay.