Dog Attack

Of course the one day I really want to blog, my computer decides to continually crash and not stay on longer than 2 minutes.  I guess that's what smart phones are for.

Today, on my walk to yoga, I was attacked by a street dog.  These dogs are usually friendly, and this particular one has come up to say hi many times before, wanting to be pet and given food (note: I have not given any of the dogs here food at all).  I normally would not be that affected by such an adverse encounter with a dog... After all, I really like dogs and am not afraid when they get a little rough.  And I wasn't affected by this one either, until he persistently would not let go. 

He started with nipping at my heels and ankles, to which I lunged at him to scare him away.  Then he came and started grabbing my skirt with his teeth.  He jumped up on me and kept pulling at my skirt and my bags, until I swiped at him with my purse and had him down on the ground in a submissive position.  I yelled at him and thought that would be the end up it and wad feeling much better.  But as I kept walking, he lunged at me - snapping - even more intensely than the first times.  He latched on to my skirt and pulled, ripping and shredding it, several times.  At some point in this second attack, I started crying.  He latched on to my yoga bag and pulled so hard that it was difficult for me to stand my ground.  At this point I was almost to the busy intersection and had attracted quite a number of spectators.  One guy grabbed a branch which got the dog to let go of me, and then he told me to run while he walked towards the dog with the branch.  I thanked him as I fled.  When I turned back, the dog had evaded him, but a rickshaw driver and motorcyclist were circling him in the intersection and preventing him from coming after me.

Never underestimate the kindness of strangers.

Away and safe, I turned the corner to the shala and tears were still streaming down my face as my entire body was trembling.  I was unhurt.  Nothing bad had happened besides ripped clothes.  So why was I so emotional?  The encounter had hit something within me... some resistance or blockage I didn't know I had... and I tried during my entire practice to dig deep and figure out why I had reacted so strongly.

But nothing came.  I did carry a tension with me the entire time though, and while I knew it was triggered from the attack by the dog, I had no idea what the root cause of it was.

So I came home, got myself food, read some e-mails to distract myself and think of more pleasant things, and then sat down to meditate.  At first, my mind was filled with the joy of thinking of the future, of the happiness I have now and the more that is to come, but then my thoughts wandered back to the emotions that came while the dog was attacking me.  And I realized what it was...

For some reason, the look in the dog's eye and the malicious way it attacked brought up the image of people, faceless people that I sensed I knew (as occurs in dreams sometimes when you know the people but they don't have faces or names), attacking me and enjoying it.  Ripping at my clothes, persistently attacking more and more, until in my head they had reduced me to a crumbled heap on the dusty street wearing nothing but rags. 

It didn't matter that I said no and protested, just like it didn't with the dog.  It didn't matter that I had stood up to them and gotten them to back off, as I did with the dog.  They kept coming anyway, enjoying every insult, every tear at my body and clothes, every jab at me.  And they wouldn't let go until I was reduced to nothing.  And the worst part of all is that they were people I thought I knew and trusted, just like I knew this dog to be a nice one before this morning's attack.

And that, I realized, is what got to me most.  That was the tension I felt... the resistance and blockage.  I know I've been too trusting of people in the past.  Many who have wronged me I have begun standing up to.  I have told them no and they have listened, even if I had to say it a couple times.  But in that dog's eyes... in the persistence of his attacks... I felt fear that these people who once were nice but now are not will come forth and attack me, tearing me to shreds and enjoying every minute of it, and not letting up no matter how much I protest and say no.

It reminds me of Psalm 7...
1 O Lord my God, I take refuge in you; save and deliver me from all who pursue me, 2 or they will tear me like a lion and rip me to pieces with no one to rescue me.

The rest of it continues wonderfully, saying that if I did wrong them, then let them attack and "trample my life to the ground," but that God alone should judge according to my righteousness and integrity... and to let the decision be a fair and just one.  I know that there is always the chance of attack by those with whom my life has crossed paths, but I pray it not to be the case.  I hope that I haven't truly wronged anyone and, if I have, that they will forgive me. 

But mostly, I had a moment during meditation after realizing all this that my fear was within me.  It's not in someone else... it's only within me.  And so, with a deep exhale, I let it go.

I forgive this dog and I forgive those who may want to attack me.  I forgive myself and release the tension of this fear and worry, for that alone will cripple me more than any attack.  And, beyond that, I'm thankful for this situation and experience, for though it wasn't a pleasant one it has helped me grow in at least some small way and better understand myself.

Short But Sweet

Something I've realized.....

Love happens when you give; it is not about you but is for someone else.  Happiness happens when you love... this is just for you.

Happily,

Simply Me

Ramblings and Revelations

So, in the midst of a bunch of power outages, I've taken to journalling.  No offense, Blogger, but journalling is just so much better for getting thoughts down.  It requires a bit more time which means a bit more thought.  And, for some reason, committing words to paper seems more permanent and more meaningful than onto a screen.  Even though I know almost the opposite is true.

Anyway, I noticed some themes in my ramblings the other day, and thought I'd try to articulate them here.  It may not work, and may not work well, but I'm going to try.

So the first thing I noticed was that, in my relationships with guys at the beginning, I fell for them for normal reasons.  ("Fell" being a loose term, not a "falling in love" type term.)  Then one came along and changed everything.  I found myself searching... searching for the peace and joy he seemed to have.  And so commenced my "exploration phase" where I tried to find that same happiness by exploring my sexuality with the next approximately 6 guys in my life over a period of about 2 years.  Some situations were fine, many were not.  In the many, I found myself acting differently than I knew myself to be.  Trying to live up to what I thought they wanted.  Changing myself and my personality.  To try to draw attention, to try to keep attention.  I would feel neglected and like the only way I could not feel neglected was to try to be someone I'm not.

Shouldn't that have been a sign that something was off and it was no good?  Yes.  Was I perceptive enough to realize that?  Of course not.

So I kept searching and searching.  Trying for happiness.  Failing.  Getting myself involved in situations I didn't like or appreciate, yet I stayed in them because I thought that if I did long enough, maybe something would change.  Maybe happiness would come.  After all, it had to be my fault, right?  Others live this type of life and are very happy, so why wasn't I?

And then came one of the biggest mistakes I made of all of them.  I thought that a "purely physical" relationship was what I needed since in previous "relationships" (if I can even call them that... I don't think I can) I never got any emotional satisfaction.  In my head (and from the life I was trying to live to try to get that happiness I had seen once in another), I thought this was the solution.  Or at least could be.  No emotional connection means no emotional dissatisfaction, right?  So might as well try.

Mistake.  Big mistake.

The only good that came from it was that, by the end, I finally got it through my thick and stupid skull that sex is not a substitute for happiness.  I think I need to repeat it just to get it through my stupid skull again and again.  Sex is not a substitute for happiness.  It cannot replace it.  It does not lead to it.  It does not cause it.  No lasting happiness, no true genuine joy comes out of just the act.

So, six guys later, I started learning this important lesson.  At that point, the next guy had come along.  This is the one I feel the worst about.  I was a bitch.  I'll admit it readily now - I was a complete and utter bitch.  I shouldn't have agreed to be in a relationship with him, shouldn't have agreed to even date him given how fucked up I was, yet I did for one conscious reason and one subconscious reason.  First, the conscious one...

I didn't want to hurt his feelings.  Yes, that's right.  The philosophy that had taken me through my late teens and early twenties of "give everyone a chance" had gone way too far when I entered a relationship because I was afraid to say no and hurt his feelings.  Which, I realized as I was rambling and writing in my journal, is exactly the reason why I had never let go of anyone from the past (until recently).  I didn't want to hurt them.  Didn't want them to think I didn't care.  I was afraid to hurt feelings, afraid to have people mad at me.  It's a terrible crutch and has gotten me in all sorts of trouble, though hopefully I can teach myself to outgrow this.  (Topic for another time: my fear of people being angry at me.)

Anyway, I wouldn't let go because I didn't want to hurt people's feelings, didn't want them mad at me, and - unfortunately - some part of me still hoped that, with a small few of them, they would suddenly start to like me for the person I was, not the person I was acting like.

Which leads me to the second reason - the subconscious one - that I dated this poor guy I treated so horribly... I wanted a real, functioning relationship.  I realize this now.  I didn't at the time (hence, subconscious).  I think after all the meaningless sexual situations and trying to be someone I'm not and times when I was not in a committed relationship because I just wanted to be liked however possible... my subconscious realized this wasn't it for me.  That I wasn't being true to myself.  So this nice guy comes along and I agreed to a relationship to not hurt his feelings, and I think too because I was tired of searching and trying to be someone different.

But.  (Of course there's a "but"...) But I didn't really like him.  And so I went back to my old habits of thinking that temporary fixes would cure it.  That one of the guys from my past may really have liked me after all, despite the fact that he had a girlfriend (granted I did not know this until the end).  And it was so totally and utterly wrong of me.  I should not have been in that relationship.  I should not have gone back to thinking that actions could suddenly cause happiness.   I knew better.  I knew better from the beginning of all of this, yet I was still searching and searching and searching for that "peace" that eluded me.

That peace did not come until I did find love.  Until I found a stable, secure, spectacular, serenely amazing relationship.  Maybe sex does lead to happiness for some.  Maybe it replaces it.  Maybe living a free, open, casual life as many of the guys from my past seemed to is what leads to happiness for them.  But not for this girl.

For me, this is my true self.  I have stopped searching because I don't want to anymore.  I feel no need to in the slightest.  I have more happiness inside me than I ever thought possible.  Yes, it takes work.  Yes, it's not always "perfect" in the way that "perfect relationships" are described.  But, for me, it is it.  It is what I was searching for when I always felt a lack of connectedness (see one of my previous posts for more on lack of connectedness).  It is what I've waited for.  It's what I should have been patient for, instead of trying so hard and exploring so much, all for naught but some not-so-good situations.

So, my "exploration phase" is done.  Now I am in the midst of living what I'd like to call my "true phase"... true to myself, true to those around me, true to what I know to be right.  May it continue forever, for it finally feels perfect.

On The Subject of the Ego

Lately, being here in India, I've been faced with the difficulty of my ego.  This is not to say I'm a vastly self-centered person - and, in fact, I'd argue many who meet me would say I'm not at all - but all of us still have our ego.  We still hold tight to certain beliefs that we are a certain way or should be treated in a specific manner.  To let go of our ego is an entirely terrifying thing.  Yet, I've come to find it's important in so many ways too.

I'm reading The Road Less Traveled by M. Scott Peck and, as I'm experiencing all of these challenges to my ego in daily life in India, he also discusses the ego in relation to love.  He says that falling in love is a temporary sudden disappearance of the ego's boundaries where there is an ecstasy that makes us think it's true love.  Real love, alternatively, is the expansion of the boundaries of the ego, which will ultimately lead us to love the whole world.  A very interesting concept to say the least, and definitely not one I'd ever considered before.  In fact, I hadn't ever really thought about the ego at all before beginning the practice of ashtanga.  So let's take a step back in time.

Doing the same practice day in and day out starting only one short year ago, I have learned a lot about myself.  I've learned how competitive I am (or was when I started), how I'd just want to move on to more asanas (or poses), how I wanted the corrective and guiding touch of the teacher so desperately during the course of the six to eight a.m. practice.  At first I thought this was just me, just who I am, but through the course of observing myself and talking to my teacher, I realized that it was my ego that was so competitive, so desirous to just keep moving onward without perfecting the present pose, so desperate for the attention of the teacher.  To let go of that has been a scary task.

It makes you vulnerable.  It makes you unsure of what's beneath all these constrictive layers of the ego.  It's terrifying in many ways.

Yet also very enlightening.  Rather than a temporary disappearance of my ego's boundaries, as what happens during sex, when falling in love, etc., I've been slowly analyzing and stripping them away.  And, in the process of stripping away all these constrictive layers, I've been opening myself up and expanding those boundaries to allow more in.

More love.
More confidence.
More clarity of who I am.

India has been an ego-challenging trip from the start.  When I first walked out of the airport and to my taxi, I started getting in on the right side of the car - the passenger side of American cars.  Lo and behold, that was the driver's side.  My driver made a joke about me wanting to drive the streets of India, and I blushingly ran to the left to get in the passenger side of Indian cars.  First ego hit: my seeming confidence in how to get into a car.  And my belief that I was culturally mature, having traveled so much in the past.  I had to recognize and acknowledge that I really wasn't all that worldly, and that every experience I face - whether in a new country or the comfort of my own home - I should embrace with childlike curiosity and the awareness that there is a very good chance I don't know everything about it.  That I can learn something from it all.

Next has just been being in this ashtanga environment here, where it was all founded.  Many feel a sense of superior importance to it, and I have to say that a part of me did as well.  I thought that since I was coming to the source, to the foundation of it all, my practice would improve significantly.  That I could impress the teacher with my flexibility and strength.  That I would have heightened enlightenment and suddenly realize things that had alluded me in the past.  Yet, my experience has been vastly opposite.  The teacher, grandson of the founder of ashtanga himself, will not allow egos here.  Ego hits numbered two, three, and four:  If you are pushing others to get in the room first, he has you wait in the back.  If you are hoping for an earlier start time for morning practice, he can tell and will keep you where you are.  If you're reaching and hoping for help with an adjustment in the series just because you want the attention... he knows.  It's magical, but he knows, and he knows it's just your ego talking.  So he won't come help, and yet he's there to assist you the moment he knows you truly need it.

We're guided, but only at the moment where he knows we need guidance.  Both physically and emotionally/spiritually, it seems.

My practice has not significantly improved.  I've been faced with foul moods and stomach aches when arriving at practice, hindering my ability to do a perfect practice.  I still struggle in the same asanas I do at home.  But at the same time, a change has come over me.  I've learned that all I can do is make the most of each practice in the body and mind I'm in at that present moment and that is all.  That a "good practice" does not mean catching my ankles during urdhva dhanurasana (back-bending), it means uniting my body and mind and spirit.  That the attention of the teacher is not necessary and is definitely not something that you ask for... it is a gift given when you need it and when you need it alone.

So I'm letting go.  I'm letting go of my need for attention, my need for success, my need for being the best or the first or the worldliest.  I'm stripping down my ego.

Now, reading this book and realizing this about my ego, I found myself wondering how this was encouraging love.  Love is the expansion of the ego's boundaries, not stripping away at them.  Yet I feel that I need a stripping away before I can truly have a full expansion.  That I'm stripping away the constrictions and allowing room for joy and love.  That I'm getting to the bare-bones of who I am, not what I hope to accomplish.  I think this is how the two relate, though I know for a fact I have way more exploration to do before I can fully figure it out.

And I know I have way more stripping away to do as well... continuing to analyze the ego boundaries that have affected the actions of my past so significantly and letting them go too.  Getting down to my roots, to my honest, pure, unaffected soul.  It will be a lifelong journey, but as I've learned in ashtanga, it starts with a single breath.  Not a step, a breath.  Learning how to unite my mind, body, and soul, and daily observing and being aware of my actions, my thoughts, my breath... this will all aid in continuing to shed my bad ego and let in room for the good and for love.

One breath at a time, uncovering my true self.  Making room for love.