I've never had so many lessons in bending and twisting and opening since having subscribed to a yoga practice. You want my shoulder to go where? Under my knee? What?!
I've generally considered myself a semi-flexible person - until I stepped into a yoga class and saw what flexibility actually looked like. Yikes! Not sure if it was cool or scary. But practice after practice, day after day, breath after breath I saw my body suddenly do new things that hadn't been possible even a day or two before. And it was all happening just because I was showing up and trying. Even these nine months later, some days I'm really sore, some days I'm more flexible, some days my balance sucks, and some days exciting surprises happen all over my mat. It all takes time, patience, breath, and perseverance. Lessons in bending and twisting and opening.
My yoga practice always somehow translates to life. And reflections on flexibility aren't something that only happen mid-pose in a studio. They go home with me and branch out into other parts of my life. Not only flexibility of my physical body; but flexibility of my mind, my emotions, my being. And I've started noticing how I'm super flexible with people - their needs, their wants, their requirements. Forgiving. I can bend in all sorts of directions when it comes to someone else. But I'm not as flexible with my own self - my needs, my wants, my requirements. Unforgiving. I'm much more rigid, calculated, and structured with myself. And that imbalance has resulted in some painful life lessons in bending and twisting and opening.
After my first Reiki experience in Hawaii in June, I lay there having a really honest conversation about my life. About all of the recent and unexpected crap that life and people I trusted had tossed my way. The sudden twists were painful, shocking, and leaving me feeling shattered. Torn apart. Shaken. Destroyed. I asked, "How can I continue representing a Church and a God of love when I feel more broken than the people that I am trying to reach? How can I stand up and give the rest hope when I am left without hope myself?"
Honest. All honest. No need to sugar coat this moment. No more energy to pretend to myself or my community that things were fine. That I was fine. I had kept it together for almost 6 months. I had continued to fulfill every responsibility I had, every promise I had made. And it wasn't fine. And I wasn't fine. I was trying so hard to be. But I wasn't.
My Reiki guide sat there with me and listened. And we talked. And I talked a lot. And he listened a lot. And I listened to him. (He is younger than me, but Divinely connected and wisely intuitive!) His response to me was to use this break in the road as a part of my life, as a part of my ministry. To embrace and share my brokenness instead of hiding it. The betrayal. The abandonment. My desperate search for God. My desperate search for healing. To be honest about what happened. To tell people where I am. Because people honor what is real. Because people trust what is real. Because people relate to what is real. And where I am at this moment is very real.
I am indebted to my friend Jorge for all of the countless broken nights he spent talking to me about words. Yup, words. I would say, "I'm weak" and he'd respond, "No, you're not. You're strong." I would say, "I'm nothing" and he'd respond, "No, you're not. You're whole." I would say, "My life doesn't matter" and he'd respond, "Yes it does. Your life matters to me." I cannot express how invaluable these long distance evening chats over my tears were. The patient, loving voice of the Divine.
Words. I've accepted that part of my healing process is refreshing the words that I use to define myself. Words reestablish our status, reclaim our power, give us a new name. When we have been hurt, we must be careful to choose words that heal - words that positively define where we are or who we want to be. Even words that we don't think we are now, but yearn to become.
I had been using words like shattered, broken, torn, wrecked, annihilated, etc. to describe myself. But you know what? I was never any of those things. And I'm still none of those things. I was using the wrong words.
Instead, I've been carefully trying out new words that accept the reality of the moment, but indicate that I am still okay. Maybe I'm not twisted, I'm just STRETCHING to get my shoulder under my knee. Maybe I'm not shattered, I'm just BALANCING the many parts of myself off the ground on two palms. Maybe I'm not torn, I'm just OPENING my Superwoman heart forward through a Clark Kent button down. Maybe I'm not dying; maybe I'm just beginning to LIVE.
Maybe I'm not broken. Maybe I'm just learning to bend.
And bending makes all the difference.
FAST FORWARD ...
Think about a rainbow. A rainbow is not broken light, it is light that is merely bending. Without the bend, we'd never see the violet or the green or the red that arches across the sky. Without the bend, we wouldn't stare in wonder or amazement; we wouldn't tell our friends to look; we wouldn't try to capture the moment or post it on social media for the world to see. Without the bend, we'd miss the beauty of the "ordinary" light right in front of us. A little bend, though, and you've got something truly magical.
THE MESSAGE IS ...
There is infinite beauty in the bend. God is in the bend. The bend is in God. And when circumstances cause our life to bend, the light of the Divine shines that much more vibrantly through us, just like a rainbow. New parts of our heart are opened, new healing has the space to move, new love can seep from our wounds, and new energy can pour into the world. We bend for own own healing. And, sometimes, we bend to heal others.
God uses our bends. Recognize them, honor them, journey through them, document them. Maybe they are for you; maybe they are for someone else. But they aren't meant to be hidden. Rainbows are not meant to be hidden.
Rather, share your bends, because they are real. Because people honor what is real. Because people trust what is real. Because people relate to what is real. And where you are at this moment is very real.
And God is there with you, in the bend.
xo
Songs for Reflection & Meditation:
Show Me by Audrey Assad
https://youtu.be/q-dov9hKHLs?list=PLZLSShzC5jbV-t-OrBqQXBqmELbUWLlHe
Landslide by Fleetwood Mac (Hannah Trigwell acoustic cover ft. Nick Howard) https://youtu.be/1lvxSPH0V3Q
Purnamadah by Shantala: https://youtu.be/TMNEv0H1Wps
Katie's translation: God is perfect and complete, so everything that comes from God (like us!) is whole and complete. And even though God is completely emptied into creation, God is still perfect and complete. (So, even if you feel broken, God is in you... and you are still whole.)
© 2018 Katie Riley
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