Spanda
Here we are - it’s mid- December. Here I am. I am in contraction. Back in January of 2019, right after I got back from a 6 week life changing trip to Bali, I was in contraction. During that time I even wrote a blog post about it : https://www.rockymountainyogigirl.net/new-blog/closer. I was feeling down, feeling like I was entering a spiral of going into myself. And this was not the good going into myself, where I discover who I am and feel creative and expansive. This was the contracting going into myself, the aloneness, the overwhelming feeling of despair.
These feelings are not easy for me to deal with. I felt the same feelings back in December of 2017 (As I mentioned in that earlier blog post) when I decided that it was time to end my fast-paced career, and start to discover who I wanted to be.
So here I am again. I am trying to untangle this mess of “dark” feelings. I notice that these days I am feeling a sense of lack. What am I lacking? I have a good home, good family, dear friends, and even That One Guy (TOG). I feel as if I am lacking time. I notice as the days grow to their shortest amounts of light, I feel as if there just isn’t enough time in a day. Funny, because every day has the same amount of hours. Yet, I am worried I won’t get my reading done, my studies done, my writing done, and my violin playing done because there isn’t enough time. I start to look at all I would like to do in my day as expectations, and I get upset with myself for not getting things done. That lack of compassion for myself turns into a fear of even starting anything. Making a fulfilling meal suddenly seems insurmountable. Sitting down to practice my violin seems undoable. I am starting to dread doing the things I like to do. TOG and I talked about some creative new ways I can use my kiln. I don’t even want to look at my kiln. Last week, I wasn’t attending the morning online meditations that I love so much. The connecting to self and connecting to the community is valuable to me and sets the tone for my day. I seem to be pulling away from expansion and oneness and diving into contraction and disconnection.
Is this year any different from those other years? And while I recognize this contraction for the 3rd time, (did I have one at the end of 2019? I don’t remember) I am sure there were contractions in my life before 2017. I remember having emotional trauma during this time of year. Cerebrally, I have processed these experiences. My body however, may still be clinging to them. So the contractions probably did come before 2017. In those times I didn’t have a word for them, and I didn’t want to feel my feelings. But here I am now - the big “feeler.” This time I want to surrender. Surrender to the feelings rather than fight them. This year has seemed to be so much of a fight - I can’t go on a 6 week vacation? Let me fight to find something else to do. I can’t see my friends face to face? Let me fight to find another way of connecting. I can’t see my children as often as I’d like? Let me plan for future visits. I’m tired of the fight. I’m tired of the anxiety that Covid, elections, inequality, and environmental issues bring me. I just want to curl up under my Minky (if you’re not from Utah then google Minky blankets) and sleep the days away. Oh and don’t think I haven’t. Over the past few weeks, I seem to be either taking 2 hour naps or sleeping till 9 and missing meditations and morning yoga classes, two events that I normally cherish. These efforts seem to make my concern for having a lack of time a self-fulfilling prophecy.
During my regularly scheduled life, I’m up and doing things and getting shit done. Now I’m not. I find I’m not practicing any self-compassion either. That refusal to surrender is creating a self-flagellation that is just ugly. I need to leave that space. I’m not sure if I rip myself from it (how is that different that the self-flagellation?) or coax myself slowly, like I would with a crying child who doesn’t want to leave for pre-school. Somewhere deep inside me, I just want to accept how I am feeling and be with it. Recognize that it is no big deal if I go a few weeks without being my industrious, upbeat, creative, connective self. Slugs are okay.
Spanda is the Sanskrit word for vibration. It implies the ebbs and flows of something. When I think of life, I know it’s not all one straight line, a solid monotonous ride, each day the same as the other. To have the expansion and contraction of my days is to have spanda and to have life. I imagine my heart pumping in and out. If I don’t let the heart pump in, if I try to stop it, I stop my life. So I need to let the in-pump happen. I need to let go of not letting it contract. Who knows what beauty will blossom out of my heart when it starts to expand again.
I’m not writing to find sympathy or guidance from my readers, I am writing to find connection and acceptance of myself. I don’t want suggestions on how to brighten my day, or put on a happy face. It does me no good to put on a facade and pretend that I’m doing well, or even okay. I need to sit with these feelings and let them flow through me in the spanda of life. When I lay my words out vulnerably, I find that I come closer to coaxing that crying child into the classroom.
