when things fall apart

I often find myself at a loss for how to describe, how to put exactly into words, what it is that I want for myself or a Courageous Year participant or anyone that I work with. As much as I try to take care with how I put it, sometimes I’ll re-read something I’ve written and see the holes in it; I can see exactly where I might be coming across as believing in “self-improvement” when that’s not really exactly what I mean. I mean something more like “self-transformation,” something that strikes that beautiful balance between walking bravely in where we are right now while holding a vision for something that is more expansive. And–I think that one can have that acceptance + vision without hating one or the other.

While on my Staycation, I’ve been re-reading books that I have long loved. Pema Chodron’s When Things Fall Apart has been captivating me. I didn’t realize why until last night, when I had this really difficult session with my Coach (in which I told him, quite frankly, that I’d been feeling pissed and resentful towards him lately, and in which he responded, quite frankly, that he viewed that as resistance and part of my process, and invited me to look more deeply. And I did. And dammit if he isn’t right. Again.) I realized this morning, after finishing breakfast and taking up Chodron again that I really do feel as though “things are falling apart,” because they are. And if I chose to take a larger view of things, that was actually good.

Things are falling apart, and I am in the midst of that, and without a doubt, I see opportunity in every shift, and I see lovely things on the other side of all of those shifts. When I get right down to it, there is absolutely nowhere else that I’d rather be! How could I have missed that? Things are falling apart in all of the loveliest ways; what’s slowly getting suffocated are habits and patterns that simply don’t work anymore. They are being exposed and exposed again and those patterns can’t hold up their weight anymore, they are “falling apart.”

Then I read this in WTFA this morning, and it so perfectly described what I hope for in myself or Courageous Year participants, and for you, and the world, as we are all on our collective journeys:

“It is said that we can’t attain enlightenment, let alone feel contentment and joy, without seeing who we are and what we do, without seeing our patterns and habits. This is called maitri–developing loving-kindness and an unconditional friendship with ourselves.

People sometimes confuse this process with self-improvement or building themselves up. We can get so caught up in being good to ourselves that we don’t pay any attention at all to the impact that we’re having on others. We might erroneously believe that maitri is a way to find happiness that lasts; as advertisements so seductively promise, we could feel great for the rest of our lives. It’s not that we pat ourselves on the back and say “You’re the greatest,” or “Don’t worry, sweetheart, everything is going to be fine.” Rather it’s a process by which self-deception becomes so skillfully and compassionately exposed that there’s no mask that can hide us any more.” — Pema Chodron, When Things Fall Apart

Oh. So beautiful. “It’s a process by which self-deception becomes so skillfully and compassionately exposed that there’s no mask that can hide us any more.”

That word–compassionately. YES. Exposing self-deception–with compassion. YES.

I was talking to a dear friend of mine a few weeks ago about some of the health choices that both she and I make, in particular in relationship to doing juice fasts once or twice a year, or giving our bodies a break from sugar, or wheat, at various times of the year. We were talking about how some people view us doing these things with horror–they simply don’t understand why we would want to deprive ourselves of sugar, or why we would do a cleanse. What’s the point?

My friend shared how she got so much out of doing those cleanses–they exposed pieces of her that were about so much more than just an eating choice. They exposed the places where she was triggered, the places where she ran Stories. “It’s like a trial by fire,” I said to her, and she said, “YES! In that moment when I really want that thing, that cookie or whatever, I see what I’m really made of.” This was how I felt about my thirty days of Bikram yoga–I wanted to see what I was made of. I wanted to see where I would try to wiggle out of a commitment or break down along the way. I was intensely curious about this place, and it taught me a lot.

“Generally speaking, we regard discomfort in any form as bad news. But for practitioners or spiritual warriors–people who have a certain hunger to know what is true–feelings like disappointment, embarrassment, irritation, resentment, anger, jealousy, and fear, instead of being bad news, are actually very clear moments that teach us where it is that we’re holding back. They teach us to perk up and lean in when we feel we’d rather collapse and back away. They’re like messengers that show us, with terrifying clarity, exactly where we’re stuck. This moment is the perfect teacher, and, lucky for us, it’s with us wherever we are.” –Pema Chodron

In this moment, I am loving sitting with things as they “fall apart.” It feels like a kind of surrender, a letting go and allowing. I woke up this morning feeling this renewed commitment to diving in despite resistance, which for me is exactly as Chodron puts it: exposing self-deception, with compassion.

When things are falling apart for you, what’s the opportunity?