• No Fixing Required

    • December 11, 2021 9:45 am

    Dearest Readers,

    On September 21st, I nearly fainted at the long-term care home where I provide spiritual care. I was in the middle of delivering a sermon for the residents during our homemade church service and the world started to go black.

    I pulled up a stool and carried on, acting as if I was okay when I wasn’t. I didn’t want people to worry. But after the room cleared, I got help from the nurse and called for a ride home.

    Because I had spent part of the previous weekend with a family who’d had “the gastro,” and because I was in bed for the next two days with nausea and a weak stomach, the sickness was chalked up to gastroenteritis.

    The family who’d given me the bug got better in two days. Ten weeks later I am still sick.

    What I want to write to you about is not the details of my illness but the practice of surrender. Because one has led to the other.

    Twenty-plus years ago, when I got on the Healing Journey and began to seriously attend to my spiritual life, I unwittingly got on the Fixing Journey, too.

    Give me a problem and I will give you the solution. You’re sick? Say affirmations. You’re sad? Be positive! You’re depressed? Change!

    Apparently, I’m not the only one. There is actually an Instagram account called “Healing from Healing.” It can be a bit crass but the account holder is ultimately trying to illustrate the wider healing community’s compulsion to fix: if you’re not happy/healthy/whole you must be doing something wrong!

    It’s taken me a long time to learn that healing doesn’t mean fixing and controlling. It means letting go, releasing, accepting, surrendering. And believe me, I haven’t finished learning the lesson.

    Since getting sick, friends have offered me silent faith sessions, tried to perform distance healing practices on my body, and recommended shamans and psychics.

    You would think I would be grateful for all of this support but my reaction has sort of been, hmm, how shall I say it? Irritation.

    “Stop trying to fix me! Just let me be sick!”

    Now, because I analyze everything, I realize that this part of me, let’s call her Resistance, might be the part of me that doesn’t want to heal. Maybe she likes being sick because she gets to check out of life.

    Maybe.

    Maybe not.

    Maybe there is another part of me, let’s call her Wisdom, that knows that this illness is actually teaching me something important and a miraculous cure would only eradicate the lesson.

    So what’s the lesson?

    There are a few:

    Since becoming ill, I have had to say “no” a lot. Saying “no” is not one of my strong points.

    Since becoming ill, I have had to let go of my fear of being judged. I imagine that people are going to see me as “less than” because I’m not working, I’m weak, I’m cancelling appointments, I’m falling behind. I have had to let these imaginary people think what they are going to think.

    Since becoming ill, I have had to accept that my body is not able to do what it could do ten weeks ago. But I’m a yoga teacher! Too bad.

    Since becoming ill, I’ve had to surrender to the fact that life has thrown me a curve ball and I can’t reach my arm out to catch it because the lymph nodes in my armpit are swollen and it hurts to much to stretch.

    These are big lessons. Vital lessons, no? Why try to fix and control them away? They are teaching me well.

    Yes, I would like to heal. Yes, I would like to have my energy back. And, what if it was okay to be sick? What if this sickness is actually healing me, one small surrender at a time?

    If I was to be suddenly, miraculously healed by a prayer, a shaman or a psychic, would I not just go right back to saying “yes” when I need to say “no”? Would I not immediately return to over-giving my time and energy? To doing more than my body can handle so that I would finally be enough?

    It’s highly likely.

    In the first few weeks, when I was still fighting this thing and struggling to accept what my body was saying, I taught a couple of online yoga classes. Cancelling was unthinkable.

    Then I remembered how I am always telling my students to “listen to your body.”

    How could I teach this kind of wisdom and not practice it myself?

    So, I cancelled. And the next week, I cancelled again. And the next week, again.

    Ugh.

    The only consolation was that I was living my teachings.

    Listen, let go, accept, surrender.

    That’ll fix it.

    From the fires of love,

    Celia

    The Return

    • February 18, 2018 10:48 am

    Dearest Readers,

    Resisting Love, the last blog post, elicited a number of heartfelt responses. One woman’s comment struck me as particularly pressing.

    She wrote:

    “I appreciate the message of acceptance and I have to admit I was left wanting more….more about how….how to accept…how to stay open…..how to live and trust and evolve….”

    Isn’t this the million dollar question for all of us? How? How? How do we do it? How do we really live? Not just cope or get by or survive the daily struggle but really embrace Life fully and joyfully, living as though each day were our very last?

    There is no One Manual. There are many manuals to choose from to help guide us but despite being given great wisdom from the sacred scriptures of our ancient cultures and having multiple modern-day self-help books from which to choose, none of us really knows what we’re doing. We are all just figuring it out as we go.

    This is really something, isn’t it? We are all trying so hard to get this Life Thing right. And it isn’t easy! Being human is very confusing. Why did that happen? What am I supposed to do about this? What do I do with all of these thoughts? How do I handle my emotions? Am I doing enough?

    Without an Instruction Booklet we pretty much just carry on the best we can. And we really are all doing the best we can. It might not seem that way sometimes and yet this is where ‘how to accept’ comes in. How would it be for me to accept that we are all doing the best we can with what we’ve got?

    The inner perfectionist balks. Are you kidding me? she says. He is not doing his best and she could be doing way better.

    There is no Acceptance when I am expecting everyone to be operating at a perfect level of human awareness and behaviour. Acceptance requires that I let go of unrealistic expectations and remember that just like me that person is trying to figure out how to live.

    ‘How to stay open’ is just as challenging. Staying open means leaving myself vulnerable to being rejected and getting hurt. Staying open means I will not be in control of the situation. This is unthinkable. The inner protector says, It is better to armour up and shut down. But being numb doesn’t actually feel all that great. What to do?

    The ‘How’ of anything always starts with a conscious decision. I am deciding to practice staying open even though I am afraid to let go of my desire for control. Once we make the decision, it then becomes a little bit easier to take the necessary action, in this case welcoming the fear of rejection.

    That sounds really unpleasant. Welcome the fear of rejection? Are you nuts?

    The only way I can possibly welcome anything this uncomfortable is by cultivating a Deeper Understanding of Who I Am. This is where ‘how to live and trust and evolve’ comes in.

    If I am 100% identified with my temporary nature, my little finite human life, then I will experience all hurt and rejection as being about me, about my person, as my fault. This misguided identification will then result in shameful feelings, which, in turn, produce the controlling, perfectionist, armoured-up person living in fear and anxiety.

    Cultivating a Deeper Understanding of Who I Am involves dis-identifying with what I think and feel and desire. Take note, I did not say annihilate. Thoughts and feelings and desires are natural, human, and necessary and I am not trying to get rid of them (and believe me, I have tried).

    I am simply trying overcome the false notion that my thoughts, feelings and desires are the sum total of my being because when I mistake these instincts for my True Identity, I suffer.

    But if I am not what I think, feel and desire then who am I? What is my True Identity?

    As I wrote in the last post, Who We Are is nothing less than The Evolving Manifestation of the Mysterious Energy Creating and Sustaining All Things at Every Conceivable Level of Physical and Non-Physical Reality (aka ‘God’).

    The human challenge is that we cannot Know This with our intellect. This Knowing comes from a place in us that is beyond the intellectual mind and it is only by cultivating This Knowing through formal or informal practices like prayer and meditation (in any and all forms) that This Knowing becomes intuitive (oh, and studying astrophysics helps, too).

    Once this intuitive connection happens, the How is more readily accessible because there remains only one, simple action left to take: The Return.

    The Action of Returning is key to accepting, staying open, living, trusting and evolving. And it’s not too difficult, though it does require vigilance. Every single time I realize that I’ve forgotten Who I Really Am, that I’ve become identified with my thoughts, feelings and desires, I return to the Deeper Understanding of My Being, my True Identity.

    How often do I practice The Return? A hundred million times a day.

    Whenever I realize I’ve disappeared, forgotten, resisted, distracted, escaped, left the building, I return, return, return.

    To what am I returning? To That Which I Already Am.

    Yes, my anger, fear, self-loathing, doubt, insecurity, jealousy, resentment is still there. This is my humanness and I will never outrun it (and I do still try). But what we are returning to is far deeper than our humanness, it is That Which Makes Us Human.

    From the fires of Love,

    Celia

    Shame Culture

    • June 21, 2011 9:06 am

    Dearest Readers,

    On the morning of Thursday, June 16th I arrived in Vancouver for meetings regarding the latest creative project I’m working on. It was a beautiful sunny day but a cloud was hanging over the city. The night before, riots had rocked the downtown core after the Vancouver Canucks lost the Stanley Cup to the Boston Bruins.

    Everywhere I went people were talking about what had happened. Most were disgusted, some were saddened, all seemed to be in shock. The city itself felt like it was steeped in shame.

    When I walked by the storefronts that had been destroyed and looted by the ones who lost control I saw something I did not expect to see. People had gathered together to clean up. Scores of young and old were picking up garbage, sweeping up glass and scrubbing the black soot from the fires off the sides of buildings. Vancouverites were washing the dirt of anger clean away.

    The boards that had been erected where window glass had been smashed were now covered in a new kind of graffiti. Words of love and encouragement, apologies and remorseful reflections, poems of positivity and sonnets of strength. “We love you Vancouver.” “The Canucks came in second. How awesome is that?” “We’re sorry.”

    As I walked by the scene I was struck by a wonderful sense of hope. How powerful is the Human Spirit’s desire for good, for order, for right action and right thinking!

    Yesterday, on my way back home after a weekend program at the Naramata Centre, I passed through Vancity again. This time the news headlines announced “One million photos turned in to the police.” People were continuing their efforts at trying to restore justice to the chaos of what had happened.

    One young man had come forward, turned himself in, and issued a public apology. Instead of honouring him for doing that, he and his family were being threatened. They fled the city, fearing injury or death. The young man’s lawyer made a comment that the same mob mentality that created the riots was now unfolding in the realm of social media, where people were now vilifying this kid and his earlier actions. His shame was not enough. “Shame him further!”

    Why? What gives us the right to shame another person? To decide how much shame a person has to feel before he is forgiven?

    As a person who has spent years recovering from shame-based thinking I am more and more appalled by its negative repercussions on our culture. I would go so far as to say we are a shame-based culture. “Shame on you.” “You ought to be ashamed.” Our individual shame keeps us imprisoned in harsh self-judgment and judgment of others. Our collective shame keeps us isolated from our fellows, segregated from other cultures, prejudiced and fearful of the unknown.

    How can we respond with compassion to those who have acted in harmful and destructive ways? How can we practice forgiveness when someone says they are sorry? How can we employ acceptance and tolerance when we encounter human behaviour that frightens us? How can we seek to understand rather than be understood?

    When we point our finger at a fellow human being we must look down at our own hand and see that there are three fingers pointing back in our direction. We have all done things for which we are ashamed. This means we do not have the right to shame another.

    Inspiring Message of the Day: My desire for a perfect world with perfect people is so big that it makes me see others as small. Help me to recognize that we are broken people and that we all need healing. Help me to respond with compassion.

    Back to the Drawing Board

    • February 28, 2011 4:52 am

    Dearest Readers,

    It’s 3:48 a.m. and I’m in absolute despair. The cat I live with pounced on me at 3 a.m. and woke me up and it has refueled an absolute ton of murderous rage.

    You may remember my first post ever. It was September 2009. The cat woke me up and I was so upset, so angry that my only recourse was to pray. The answer I received was, “Blog.”

    I’ve been lying in bed praying for help. How is it that a year and a half have gone by since that first awakening and nothing has changed? I’ve done so much work on this relationship (yes, it sounds funny — it’s a cat — but it’s a cat with an anxiety disorder and believe-you-me this little guy has required me to work) in the name of surrender, compassion and unconditional love and still I end up back here? Swearing into the dark with visions of snapping his neck at the forefront of my mind? Horrible. Horrible!

    Again, my only recourse is to pray. So I breathe. Inhale Love, exhale Peace. Inhale Faith, exhale fear. I begin to drift off to sleep. Pounce! He’s back. I pet him, scratch his fur. God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. He leaves. I can hear him crunching his food in the kitchen. I’m fading. Sleep is close. Pounce!

    That’s when the rage comes. My prayer turns to vehemence. What the f$#%? What the F&$%ING F#$% AM I SUPPOSED TO DO? Show me. Help me. Please. Please. Because I am completely and utterly at a loss as to how I am supposed to deal with this.

    And then the answer. “Blog.” No. Come on. You’re kidding right?

    Perhaps I should explain where the rage is coming from and why it is so pronounced on this particular morning. After all, this is practically a nightly ritual. Most nights it hardly wakes me. I’ve become so used to it that I can now sleep through the cat’s nocturnal exercises. But this night? I happen to be working on a grant.

    Yup, a grant. And it’s a big one. The application is due on Tuesday. It’s going to take every ounce of energy I have to get it in on time. I went to bed at 10 p.m. last night so I could get 8 hours of sleep and wake up at 6 a.m. This would give me an early enough start to do a full morning practice (prayer, meditation, yoga) and a full day of work on the grant. Good plan, Celia!

    And then the cat ruins my plans. So things have not gone the way I wanted them to go. Bingo. Trigger the control issues. Trigger the rage. And I’ve been on the healing path long enough to know that rage = fear.

    So what is the fear? I’m going to be tired. What happens when I’m tired? I get overwhelmed. What happens when I get overwhelmed? I numb out, give up, check out. I recoil from life.

    One of the thoughts I had when I was praying after the first “pounce” was this: Celia, if you are this upset when something this small doesn’t go your way how in the world are you going to handle it when something BIG doesn’t go your way? The grant application is for funding for a feature film. It’s BIG. Maybe this little thing is preparation. Maybe I’m being shown how to handle setbacks.

    What was that very first Inspiring Message of the Day? What did I learn all those months ago? When something happens to me that I do not like, that feels like cruel and unusual punishment, I will see it as an opportunity for growth. I will use it to change the world, be of service, help others. I will thank the person/place/thing that gave me the lesson, for he/she/it is my greatest teacher.

    So now I have to live out this credo. Now. Eighteen months later. I must accept the lesson anew.

    Alright. Let’s do it. Something has happened to me that I do not like. It feels like cruel and unusual punishment. But is that what it really is? No, it isn’t. Seriously, I’ve just been woken up by a cat. He’s asking for love and attention. But it’s 3 o’clock in the morning. So what? I’m going to be tired. So take a nap. I don’t have time. I have to finish the grant. Ah, the grant.

    The grant represents the film. The film represents something much, much more than anxiety over sleep loss. The film represents a lifelong dream. What if I don’t get the grant and I can’t make the film? Better yet, what if I do get the money? Then what? The film might fail. I might fail. These are the deeper fears. They are the fuel behind the fire of rage. This is why I’m being woken up. To confront my deepest fear of failure.

    Sigh.

    Okay. Walk the talk. Be of service. Blog and share. Thank the teacher. Thank you, cat.

    Now can I please go back to bed? You’re up now. You may as well get a head start on the grant. You’ve got a movie to make, don’t you?

    Inspiring Message of the Day: My anger is a defense mechanism for my fear and I am willing to look at my deepest fears today. I am willing to be changed by this awareness of my shortcomings. I am willing to “wake up”.

    Seven…

    • September 14, 2010 8:55 am

    Dearest Readers,

    In 2000 I did a month-long stint with Calgary’s One Yellow Rabbit Performance Theatre. Each summer they facilitate a Summer Lab and I was lucky enough to get a “scholarship” to go and participate. It had a profound impact on my career as a performer.

    At the start, all the “Labbits”, as we came to be called, introduced ourselves by sharing something peculiar or particular about our lives. One gal named Anne Loree revealed that she was the songwriter behind Jann Arden‘s major hit “Insensitive.” We all oohed and aahed because it was pretty cool to be in the presence of a bonafide hit-maker (number 12 on the US Billboard Hot 100). At the end of the Lab Anne played the song for us in performance. It was a real thrill.

    This morning I’m singing that song. “Maybe you might have some advice to give/on how to be/insensitive.” I’m not singing it about someone else, folks. I’m singing it about me.

    A friend of mine just told me that a few weeks back I sent her an email that contained a comment that really upset her. She couldn’t believe I had written it. It was in shockingly bad taste. She’s been hurting since then and only yesterday did she finally feel ready to confront me about it.

    God. Really? Ugh. So humbling. So challenging to hear this from a dear friend. It’s not the first time, either. Blasted email! How I wish I could blame it on this ridiculous form of communication that causes so many problems, so many misunderstandings and misinterpretations. But no. I cannot shirk this. I must take responsibility for my actions.

    After listening to my friend and apologizing and having a good cry with her about the situation we were able to laugh together and move on. (Now that’s communication.) But I went home still feeling the discomfort of what had transpired. My friend and I had already established that I had not been on top of my game when I sent the email (no kidding) but what else?

    That’s when the word insensitive came to me. Sort of like a beacon in the night. Kind of written across the sky. I can be insensitive. Not a beautiful moment. Not the type of epiphany I really enjoy having. Like a woolly sweater that itches in all the wrong spots. Get it off me.

    Alas, I must wear it before I can take it off. I gotta own it before it can be taken away. So I’m owing it. I’m not saying, “I am an insensitive person.” This is too harsh. “I can be insensitive,” is a gentler admission. It also means I have the quality rather than I am the quality.

    The Inner Work before me now is vital. Now that I have the awareness I need to be willing to change and be changed. I asked my friend how I could make amends to her. (An apology is great but it doesn’t always repair the damage.) She made a suggestion. I’m going to take it. I’m also committing to refraining from sending emails with flippant comments. This means re-reading what I’ve written and saving the message in the drafts folder if I’m unsure.

    Lastly, I can use prayer to heal the underlying fear or wound. What’s insensitivity but self-centredness? What is self-centredness but fear? What is fear but a disconnection from Love? Return me to Love. Heal me. Make me whole.

    With all of these steps I’m hoping instead I might have some advice to give on how to be more sensitive.

    Inspiring Message of the Day: We’re not perfect. We make mistakes. Rather than beating myself up and increasing the shame I will commit to Healing Action. I will make things right where I can and leave the rest to a Loving Higher Power.