Afraid of the dark

I had planned to write this blog during the holidays. The theme has been bouncing around in my head since the Winter Solstice. I kept postponing the moment to sit down and write: until after the cookies were baked, after the Christmas visits had been made, after my trip to France for the New Year’s celebration. Now it’s January and I’m only now sitting down to write.

A little nagging voice in my head keeps saying, “It’s always like this! You never keep your own promises to yourself. You postpone everything. You’re always messing things up!” I know this voice, it complains a lot. Like a tiresome parent or an grumpy lover. Telling me that I never do things the way I should and that I am, simply, insufficient.

I could deal with this voice in different ways. I could believe what the voice is saying and feel terrible about myself. I’m sure we all remember feeling guilty about ourselves because the little voice in our heads tells us that we should feel guilty.

I could turn away gently, ignoring what the voice is saying, knowing that it isn’t true. Aware that it is the nagging voice of a critical parent from my past, I could tell it to go away. It probably would... briefly. The fact is... it does keep coming back.

What I choose to do, is to sit down with the little nagging voice and listen to it. Let it have its say, let it rant and rave at me until it has said everything it needs to say and more. And then, simply, acknowledge it. “I hear you.” No discussions, no right or wrong, just let that part of me know that she has been heard.

Which brings me to the theme of the blog. We all are afraid of the dark, in so many ways. We exorcise our terror of the dark by building a fire, turning on the light, going into a lit room. But the dark doesn’t go away, it’s always out there somewhere. And we never learn to orient ourselves this way, never develop cat’s eyes to see where we’re going. We remain dependent on flashlights and fires to survive in the dark.

We exorcise our fear of our own dark places by telling ourselves that they aren’t true, we aren’t like that. And our dark places simply continue to pop up and bother us every time we’re tired or unprepared. The practice here is to befriend our dark places, our shadows, to acknowledge them. We don’t have to agree with them. But, just like grumpy lovers, if we take the time to listen to what they have to say, they eventually stop complaining.

The little nagging voice in my head is quiet now. Happy that I have finally written the blog but also happy that she was heard.

Just keep showing up

This past year, I have had to let go of my beloved 5Rhythms dance practice. At least until my physical therapist has restored the alignment in my fascia network. At least until I have learned not to let other dancers pull me into their dance and out of my own boundaries.

Now, how many times have I written a blog on this topic? Do I ever listen to my own wisdom? Yes, I do… and at times I forget. Most of you probably know by now that living these truths in daily life is more challenging than simply understanding them.

There are always so many things to feel guilty about: not doing enough, doing too much, wanting too much, being too judgmental, not seeing the truth. The truth is, that this is what life is about. We are imperfect. I'm imperfect. Accepting this fact is the first step.

And the next step is to gently, patiently let go of the guilt and bring yourself back to your practice. Whether that practice is: listening to your body, sitting still, paying attention to your own boundaries, or whatever it is you wish to do because you know you will benefit from it. Jack Kornfield describes it as the way you would lovingly train a puppy: “Sit… Stay…” And when the puppy runs off, you gently bring it back and start again. Just keep showing up. Again and again, in the spirit of loving kindness to yourself.

This is what I wish for you in this dark season of the year, when we light our lights and celebrate, each of us in our own way, the advent of love in the world. Just keep showing up.

A rainbow-colored house

The latest fuss about the Dutch Sinterklaas and Zwarte Piet (St. Nicholas and his Moorish servant Black Peter) was discouraging enough. For those who haven’t been following the discussion, St. Nicholas is attended by a servant (often several) whose face has been blackened and whose clothing suggests the attire of Moors in the 4th century. Recently, it has been suggested that this is discriminating against people with a black skin and condoning the Dutch role in the slave trade. At first it seemed to simply be a vehicle for political catfights. Now, media and policy-makers have taken over. This year Piet’s face was painted all the colors of the rainbow, as a statement that we are a rainbow-colored nation, home to all races and creeds.

Putting aside the fact that the presence of a Moorish servant to a bishop in 4th century Myra (in present-day Turkey) is probably historically accurate, another thing disturbs me. In Austria and southern Germany, St. Niklaus is accompanied by Krampus. There, the original intention of balancing black and white: the forces of good and evil, night and day, is intact. Krampus cannot be turned into some harmless symbol of political correctness. He’s just too scary.

Now my American friends have informed me that the greeting Merry Christmas is considered to be politically incorrect these days, discriminating against all belief systems that do not center around the birth of the Christ child.

It took me a while to understand my own impatient sighs. After all, as far as religion is concerned, if anything you might call me a pagan. And I deeply honor and respect all races and belief systems. But that is exactly why I object to this approach. It provides the semblance of tolerance, without getting to the root of the intolerance. If people distrust and fear Jews, Muslims, Hindus, Christians, or anyone else who is not of the correct persuasion or skin color, political window-dressing is not going to change that.

The root of the problem lies, in my perception, in the fact that We is so often defined as a group that includes some people (or life forms) and excludes others. And the outsiders need to be kept out or exterminated, at any cost. This is the We of adolescent groups, the ones who all wear the same clothing or listen to the same music. True adulthood means letting go of this exclusive identification and opening one’s sense of belonging to all people… to all living things in the universe.

And so this holiday season – and the rest of the year – my home and heart is opened to all life. I wish all a Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Joyful Yule, and (in other times of the year) Blessed Diwali en Eid. And I will light a candle for Zwarte Piet, who taught me the truth about discrimination and tolerance.