one woman's quest to live the life she's imagined all while daring you to do the same

Going For Broke After Choke

I have been to space!

And it’s between my ears.

Strange how I can’t get my mind that quiet in meditation.

Total blank.

Instead of enlightenment, I felt sheer panic. Not exactly the path to nirvana I might desire.

As I sat on the 4 Train on the way home, beating myself up for pondering all my mistakes … a theme unfolded before me.

Control issues.

For instance … the last few days I’ve been kind of a freak about time. I was rushing Elisa out the door barking that we were going to be late to her friend’s wedding. That same afternoon, I darted into CVS for some hose/tights/stockings (?) for Elisa which took exactly twenty-nine minutes longer than I’d expected, making us potentially late to now her friend’s reception.

I was a spaz.

All of which Elisa could care less about, including the tights. And her friend–the beautiful bride–didn’t miss us for a moment.

Lesson learned.

Or …

Yesterday, I spent a good part of the afternoon underground on the wrong track as most of the trains were being serviced. I literally ran seven blocks to the boxing gym, swearing at my iphone, because the good folks at gmaps were evidently out to lunch.

I showed up panting, all a sweaty mess, just moments before class was to begin.

I get it. We do have taxis, yes.

And then last night I was trying to force another issue, when it hit me: “Loosen your bone, Wilma!” *

Today’s speech snafu conveniently falls under that same umbrella.

All the parts where I flow naturally–for the most part–I’m speaking extemporaneously. The other parts were memorized, rehearsed and structured, well at least in my bedroom they were.

This is a new style of speech for me. I’ve always spoken extemporaneously, so now trying to stick to a script is messing with my mojo. I’m starting to see though that it’s my own control issue that’s causing the apparent interference.

Cramming and jamming a speech down my throat just before I go on is not exactly exuding poise to the subconscious. Whereas many performers talk about doing a meditation before they get on stage, or some sort of stage ritual. Not me, I’m a tightly wound top ready to unravel at any moment.

Let go and let miracles happen, right? Isn’t that what it’s about?

Trusting that you have done the work. Allowing the words to flow through you like a vessel. As my friend, Danielle, said this evening, “It’s not about you anyway. It’s all about the message.”

I leave you with this: Where in your life is your attempt at control backfiring? How’s that working for ya? Let go, and then let go some more. Trust. We’re all in this together.

#Onward

Much Love,

kat

PS … sending love and peace out into the streets tonight.

* – Jen Sincero

 

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