She’s right. Nevertheless, starting June 14 and ending June 28, I am officially “on ashram” for two weeks, which will involve radio silence on all my communication channels, except for work. I am not leaving the city. And I will be able to get your e-mails, but I won’t be responding unless it’s an emergency.
Why am I doing this? To recover my “yes.”
Some years ago, I came to a screeching halt at a picture of Susan Sarandon (in a magazine) in which she’s standing in front of an open fridge door, popping something yummy into her mouth. The caption read, “I like people who say yes to food. People who say yes to food tend to say yes to living.”
That really struck me at the time because I was not eating. I was not eating because I thought my food lust was responsible for my thigh size. So, I decided to take control. My version of control, unfortunately, involved applying the opposite of yes to practically everything, not just food.
Previously, when on binge tear, I told myself the irresistible nature of the crap I was scarfing was fully responsible for my loss of control. But the truth is, the crap was delicious only in the way shopping therapy is delicious: the highs (in the moment) are at crack-happy levels, but the crashes (in the next moment) are at equal-and-opposite crack-despair lows. The joy is not lasting, and the price you pay in health, spirit and karma depletion is astronomical.
Some people have trouble saying no. They can’t seem to put up boundaries, take space or speak their truth. I’ve been some of those people. But when I read Susan’s affirmation, I realized that “no” was now the only thing I was allowing to cross my lips. I was having trouble opening to yes. Yes to my health, yes to my body, yes to my views (especially if they conflicted with someone else’s), yes to my time. Instead, I was “hanrgy” all the time. I had successfully starved my hips into siren sweetness, but I wore the mask of Medusa.
I know a couple who embody Yes. And that’s what I love most about them. They see a yes even when there’s a No standing there, legs akimbo, arms folded over chest like a town marshal refusing them entrance to No Town.
This couple is not afraid of Marshal No or the barren, hostile town of No. They walk right up to Marshal No and say, “what seems to be the problem here, Pardner?” Marshal No may get all blustery at first, protecting the town’s territory, but my friends keep firing off questions that hit MN where it hurts: in the belief system, dismantling it one ill-conceived belief at a time . . .
. . .until MN finally breaks down and admits the problem just seems to have been there forever, without MN knowing how it got there, or why it’s still there, or why the townsfolk keep defending it so, lo these long, dry, dusty years. My friends let out a thoughtful, "hmmmmm," then brush past MN, who is now on knees, head in hands, while their arms sweep over the landscape and their voices describe promising alternatives for the town, engineering a vision of such beauty that MN perks up and -- what's this! -- begins to see potential! possibilities! and then -- what's this! -- starts developing a new vision that transforms MN into someone more yes-er-y.
I have not only been Marshal No, but I have embodied the very town of No. And let me tell you, No was devoid of attractions. (Never mind that my mouth was always full of grit.) One day I finally decided to elect myself the Mayor of Maybe in the hopes of turning the town around through sheer force of acting as if. As if my dreams could come true. Soon, the craziest of ideas grew plump and shiny on the greenest of sky-scraping trees.
As Marsha Beck says, it never starts with the right conditions – "if I lose weight, I’ll be loved; if my parents only made me do my homework, I’d have a career," etc. and so on. It starts with the right thoughts – I’m good enough, smart enough, and goshdarnit, people like me! – which then change the external conditions because the new internal conditions feel good enough to motivate you to make changes.
I know I often sound like a cheerleader drunk on self-help books. Probably because I am. But let me be clear: I’m not dissing the dark side. No way! Dark is delicious. Dark is the bitter sweet that makes life worth living. But Dark and No are not the same animal. No is all glittery surface on a skin of dull pancake make-up on a supermodel. While Dark is the deep and rich smell of freshly ground organic, fair-trade, dark-roast espresso that keeps you awake at night jittery with a mind full of a million ideas (not all good). Yes loves Dark. Yes loves it all. Yes loves life’s full spectrum of the good, the bad and the ugly.
In her book, “Steering by Starlight,” Martha Beck writes, “Neurologists like to say that ‘what fires together, wires together’.” In other words, every time you indulge your favourite obsessive thoughts, you are essentially firing obsessive-thought neurons along pathways in your brain that create literal grooves in your nervous system. Over time you will have pressed your very own EP of sadness, fear, rage, jealousy and etc. Beck says we are not born with negative thoughts and feelings, but life bombards us with experiences that create these feelings, adding this very amazing fact, “Human infants have only two natural fears: the fear of loud noises and the fear of falling. Every other fear is learned. But the harder our lives, especially in childhood, the more deeply and unconsciously negative reaction-clusters are etched into our brains and bodies.”
The great news is, all this can be rewired. Beck says you can achieve reverse wiring by holding different thoughts, but only if you do so DELIBERATELY, CONSCIOUSLY, until you've smoothed over the old grooves and created new ones -- I'm good enough, I'm smart enough and goshdarnit, people like me! Beck says the results are not just astonishing, but “empirically testable.”
“Scientist have found that Tibetan lamas who do something called ‘loving-kindness meditation’ have thicker-than-average neuron development in parts of the brain associated with happiness. Meditation has also been shown to lessen heart disease, high blood pressure, infectious illness, and many other indicators of both health and aging.”
Meditation will be one of the things I do while on ashram, both at home and once a week at a meditation centre. When I was at grad school and ready to throw myself into a patch of cow manure (goddamn, that city stank in the summer!), I joined a meditation group instead, which not only saved my life, but also gave me lasting friendships with amazing women.
So, what has got me running scared and seeking refuge in a self-styled ashram? A few things. One being so much static in my head that my heart can’t tune into a clear channel. And if I can't tune in to me, I certainly can't tune in to anyone else.
And because when I saw this sign, I wanted to cry.
Recently, I have been noticing that, in conversations with other people, instead of supporting my political, ethical and personal truths, I have been suppressing what is fundamental to me, betraying myself to the point of pain.
The price I pay for not standing by my values and not questioning ideas that have had a profound impact on people's lives -- the extreme result being violence, marginalization and poverty, and the less extreme being erosion of self-esteem (what a terrible spectrum) -- is high indeed.
Whenever I trade myself in to diminish difference with someone else (folks who I don't even think want me to! That's the crazy part!), I inevitably create a discord in my world so complex in its uncomposition that even the most experimental jazz composer would clap her hands over her ears.
Also, it's utterly disrespectful to others when I am not totally honest about how I feel. Not to mention patronizing, because it assumes the other person is not capable of absorbing and analyzing information and entering into a productive dialogue. Or even an engaging, life-changing dialogue in which both parties feel heard, respected and transformed! I want to get my engagement back.
That's just one example of how lost I feel right now, and how my lostness is shutting me down. My beautiful guru has been trying to give me this mantra for years, "truth at all costs." When I say it, I usually find my agency again. But I've fallen out of practice.
I want to find the Liz who feels like a bombshell when she sports hairy armpits (with compassion for those who find it unattractive), and who stands up LOUDLY for all social-justice issues, and who considers "view opponents" as friends-in-the-making, because, as my brilliant new boss said to me, "if you can't change the unexamined biases of the people closest to you, then how can you hope to change the world?"
How I long to change the world, but not with my usual bull-in-a-china-shop approach. Not with anger at the mainstream for perpetuating injustice and clinging blindly to their blind spots. I want to become the change I wish to see, to act with love and from love, with the patience and compassion others have shown me when I have said and done ignorant things. I want an open heart for hearing about my own unexamined mindsets.
My usual fear-based, conflict-averse MO is to give up on important conversations because I'd rather go quiet than be disliked. But no more. NO MORE. I really want to learn how to speak up, even when I'm scared of rejection, to keep trying to open up conversation, lovingly, gently and respectfully. Which means I can't be afraid of resistance. That's just part of the territory. Otherwise there'd be nothing to change.
Which, of course, might have you asking why I'm choosing to disconnect for two weeks instead of engaging more -- especially since I framed my ashram as bringing awareness to my every day life. It's a fair question. My answer is simply, I am retreating to recharge. Back to the head-noise thing. There's too much of it, and since I can't leave the city to drop out inside a temple on a mountain, or drop my work commitments, I am going to carve out silence right here at home by carving out some time alone.
Because I love you, I'm asking you all to kindly bear with my absesnce, which will be short, but necessary. And please rest assured this so not about you. It’s about me. I will not only be seeking my truth at all costs, but I'll be working on my book again, which I have let drop -- another reason for going on ashram. And, believe me, you will all benefit in the end because I will be a clearer person with less Pig-Pen dust whipping up around the both of us every time I open my mouth.
Just think of me as being in Berlin, the ashram of my soul.
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