I woke up this morning to my mother frantically knocking on my door. “Are you awake?!” she yelled. And just like that, I went from a 30-year-old independent woman getting ready for a job interview to a 14-year-old angry teenager who doesn’t want to go to school.
Does my mom know she contributes to these kinds of feelings for me? Maybe, but probably not. She knows no other way. She’s not going to stop being my mom. Not ever, ever, ever.
I don’t blame her for my feelings. That wouldn’t be healthy. I don’t blame myself for getting frustrated with it. That’s not healthy either. I guess I’ll just take responsibility for my end, which is to say, that I let myself fall into the trap, even with all my awareness and consciousness I’ve gained recently. And I hold my mother accountable for her end.
Today, I began to feel worry. It’s different from anxiety, but it’s still something related. I cut the ties to anxiety the other day so I am surprised to experience this emotion today.
I think I can identify where this feeling is coming from though. Today I interviewed for a job in NY. I do not live in NY, but I am from NY. My parents, brother, and family live in NY. I told everyone I wanted to move back to NY. I even told myself I wanted to move back to NY.
So, where’s the worry then, you ask?
I don’t know if I truly want to move back to NY.
Warning: Lots of stream of consciousness going forward.
Did the morning victimization influence my susceptibility to worry? Perhaps. I do not know for sure.
Turns out there is a lot I don’t know. This must be okay, though.
Where has my strength gone? AH! Here it is. Here is the self-rejection. I can see that I have begun to reject myself. I have begun to distrust my strength and judgement, and instead feel like I am incapable of making good decisions. This is an old, old habit. I keep wondering if staying at my parent’s house is contributing to this… Maybe, maybe not. But could I be stronger? Yes.
So, where did that trust I was building for myself go? Did I really let it go that easily? Gosh. Old habits dies REALLY, REALLY hard. I could feel the trust that I had been building up for myself the last few weeks starting to melt away. I could sense a loss. I can take responsibility for this. There is no blame here. Though I definitely noticed, I choose to accept it. It is okay.
In addition to being uncertain that I am strong and a good decision-maker, I’ve begun to feel bad for taking a step backwards in my spiritual growth. This is also self-rejection. As if the pace I am going at is not good enough. When in reality, it is perfect just the way it is. I am exactly where I am supposed to be. And truly, deep down inside, I know this.
I know that staying in my parents house, the house I grew up in, the bedroom I slept in as a small child and an angsty teenager gives me weird feelings. I feel like a victim here. I grew up as a victim here. I see myself as a victim here and it’s almost as if I allow it to happen again. My power is diminished little by little the longer I stay here. I wonder… can I stop this? If I believe I am powerful, that I am the master of my universe, and that I can overcome the power of the victim trap here, can I truly do it? Well, why not?
Everyone in my family gave me directions to Soho today. I must have talked about it with 5 different people, and all in serious, serious detail. I’ve already conquered Boston, Chicago… hell, I’ve even lived in Japan… but the thought of little Ali traveling to NYC alone is unheard of in my family, myself included. My brother, trying to help me of course, says things like ,”but she’s not going to know which direction to go when she gets out of Penn Station.” Is he wrong? No. Does he believe I can do it? Yeah, probably, though with difficulty, of course. My mother is so PROUD of me for being able to successfully take one trip to NYC from the suburbs on my own, as if it’s the greatest accomplishment (because she would never do that). What kinds of messages does this send to my brain? Again, I am not blaming. I am just noticing. Did I even believe I could do it? Yeah, but somewhat wearily (of course, it was 100% fine in the end).
I wore a suit today. I am a straight up (now tell me do you really wanna love me forever? oh oh oh) t-shirt, jeans, and converse girl, so seeing myself in a business suit is… interesting. I’ll just say that. When I saw my dad in the morning, I said, “Daddy, look!” And you know what he said? “There’s my girl!” Daddy has always wanted me to be a business woman working in NYC. Will my life ever match his dream for me? Definitely not. But I think he accepts me for who I became anyway (while secretly still wishing I’d end up the CEO he always used to tell me I’d one day be).
I haven’t done a lot of my own to be completely honest. I’ve done a lot in this lifetime. But I haven’t done a lot alone, by myself. Why should I be scared of commuting and traveling around NYC alone? I made it perfectly okay to and from the city, so why does it even seem like I wouldn’t be able to in the first place? No one would question my brothers’ abilities to do it. Yes, they have both done it a million times by now, but in the beginning, did anyone question their capabilities as much as they do mine? Did they ever question their own as my as I question mine? Why didn’t I just trust myself? (is this self-rejection here?)
Again, no blame. Trying to just be a dispassionate observer.
Where does this come from? Why do we do this to ourselves? Why don’t we trust? Why don’t we just love? Why have we evolved in a way that requires us to do so much repair? There must be a divine reason. We clearly evolved as group of people in a certain way. We were not born with fear. We were not born with anxiety, or hate, or rejection. But here it resides, no, thrives in our existence.
Why did people evolve to have such hate for themselves and for others? Why did we develop perfectionism? Why did we develop discrimination? Why do we separate ourselves to become such an “I” instead of a “we”? We are birthed literally through someone, so why do we spend our lives, separating ourselves, to individualize ourselves, only to reject ourselves in the process?
Why didn’t we evolve in a way that we know we were made of love, that we have Buddha nature. Why don’t we know that we are miracles? Living, thinking, breathing, feeling… why fill these up with anything but love? Why are we so afraid of love? Why are we so afraid of life?
I don’t want to move to New York City. Not even a little. I didn’t like the hustle and bustle. I didn’t like the speed. I didn’t like noise, the movement, the pace, the commute, the energy. I did not like the energy.
The next thought is another place that I am rejecting myself. I have already begun to think: how am I going to explain to people that I no longer am sure I want to move to NY? What am I going to do if I don’t move to NY? What if everyone just assumes it’s because I want to be with my ex-boyfriend? What if they are right? What if they are wrong? What does it matter what they think anyway? What do I think? What if I don’t know what I think? How do we know what we know?
What does my intuition feel? I know I must meditate on this.
I want my strength. I believe I can have it. So I am strong.
I want my love. I believe I can have it. So I am love.
I fill my heart with my love.
I warm my heart with love.
I surround my heart with love.
And now my heart is love.