The Way Through
It was the summer of 1991, and I had just earned my provisional teaching certification. The previous two years had been a whirlwind of activity. I was going to school while working two part-time jobs. Then one day, I got a call from Greece. My mother had to undergo heart surgery. I dropped everything and headed back home.
By the time I got back from Greece and completed my coursework, I was mentally and physically exhausted.
Neal and I were actively involved with an Ashram in upstate New York. We decided to spend the summer there, volunteering, as we had done many times before. Our goal was to do Seva (service), focus on our spiritual practice, and gain a new perspective on life.
It was a bustling summer.
There were thousands of people visiting, and my job was to welcome people and help them navigate the Ashram and its workings.
During one of the weekend meditation retreats, I was responsible for facilitating the flow in and out of the meditation hall. More than two thousand people were participating that weekend. By Sunday afternoon I was very tired.
The double doors to the meditation hall were big and heavy. I was there to make sure people were entering quietly at regular intervals. Our meditation teacher would often arrive to join the meditation sessions once everyone had settled inside the hall.
It was Sunday afternoon during the last session of the meditation retreat.
All was quiet. Suddenly, a group of people appeared out of nowhere, lining up to enter the hall. At the same time, our teacher arrived. It all happened very quickly, and I got frazzled.
I positioned myself against the heavy doors, pushing them open for my teacher to walk through. It wasn’t easy, and I almost lost my balance. That’s when she reached out, took the door by the handle, and opened it for me, effortlessly! Then, she looked at me and said, “You don’t have to make it so difficult for yourself!” Then the people behind her followed her through the doors and into the hall, and I was left alone and quiet in the foyer to contemplate what had just happened.
Did I really make things more difficult than they had to be? How often was I doing that? What were some situations when I made things more difficult for myself? Did I really tend to get in my own way? How? What did it all mean?
The answers came loud and clear. Yes, I did have the natural tendency to make things more difficult than they had to be. Yes, I did tend to complicate things for myself and, a resounding yes, for often getting in my own way.
As I stood there in the silence of the space, a myriad of feelings washed over me. The last few years had left me overwhelmed and exhausted. There was fear and uncertainty about my mother’s and sister’s health. The life decisions and changes I had initiated six years prior produced their share of sadness and guilt. Constant self-doubt and an overarching sense of responsibility were fighting me from the inside out.
And then, there was peace and calm and a deep sense of sinking into silence.
“You don’t have to make it so difficult for yourself!” Stop pushing the heavy doors of life with your back and gain some leverage. Step behind them and take hold of the handle. It’s easier this way. Be gentle with yourself. Ask for help. The hard way isn’t always the best way.
It is now 30 years later, and I would like to tell you that this experience transformed me overnight, and I have learned my lesson, but no. It takes a long time to change some of our habits. We can begin by recognizing and observing them. The rest is about practice, and I am still practicing.
I am now standing at yet another threshold.
Life is changing again, and as I am watching myself trying to negotiate these changes, I recognize my tendency to make a situation more difficult for myself than it has to be. I tend to overthink things, especially when I am faced with a big decision. My sense of perfectionism and impatience can still get the best of me.
It makes sense then that the memory of this exchange with my meditation teacher from the summer of 1991 would come up for me to reflect upon again. Writing this post has helped me see how overthinking and overanalyzing things are holding me back from enjoying the process of change. When the time is ripe, I will have the clarity I seek, and I will see the way through to the other side. The doors that now look shut will open. I don’t need to keep pushing. I can rest in this knowledge and appreciate where I stand. There are things I can do to prepare, and while I am at it, I can also allow myself to enjoy.
How about you?
What tendencies are holding you back, not only from doing things but from enjoying the process of doing? Do you tend to make things more difficult for yourself than they ought to be? How do you do that?
Do you tend to push when the best course of action would be to pull back and be patient? Do you find yourself paralyzed at the sheer scope of what you have to do instead of focusing on the small but meaningful steps you can take right now?
What if you gave yourself permission to enjoy the process of whatever is unfolding in your life? How would that look?
Take a moment and share with us below.
6 Comments
Linda Samuels
There is so much here, dear Yota. Where to begin? My thoughts are coming, so I’ll jot them down in no particular order. One is that we often talk about “enjoying the journey.” But the truth is that some parts of the journey aren’t enjoyable. They are difficult and scary. And when we don’t have clarity, the journey can feel so darn murky. It’s not easy, but I think it’s OK to sit with that- the fear, the not knowing. Sitting with the discomfort that change is happening, but we’re not really sure when or how. Of course we can enjoy parts of the process. I tend to look for silver linings. But perhaps we can also make space for the gift of feeling however we’re feeling- no judgment, just curiosity.
I also understand the idea of getting in our own way. I love how the story you shared from the Ashram helped you identify how this showed up for you. Perfectionism and impatience. Tough ones to navigate. But clearly your awareness and practice with them over these past 30 years has moved you forward. Unlike a batch of brownies, we humans are never quite done. And so I love that you are open to continual improvement. I think you’re terrific just as you are, but I get that you (like the rest of us) are a work in progress.
The photo you chose to go with this beautiful writing is mesmerizing. I’m taken by the gorgeous colors, the reflections of sky and reeds in the water, and that wonderful, meandering, wooden slatted path. And so we go. Walking along, surrounded and supported by nature’s beauty, leading us on a path without a clear end.
In a recent meditation I practiced, this phrase stood out to me. It was something like this- What if we considered that instead of change happening TO us it was happening FOR us? And what a difference that makes.
Hugs and love to you, my friend.
Yota Schneider
Dear Linda,
I do love the way you think and as I am reading your stream of consciousness reply, I have to sit back and reflect.
I am happy you like the photo. It’s one of my own. I have walked this boardwalk through the marsh many a time this last year, in all kinds of weather, and I never tire of it.
No, there are parts of the journey that are not enjoyable. Not only that but they can be painful. And yes, it would be helpful to think that change is happening FOR us instead of TO us but let’s face it … change is like giving birth, and giving birth hurts. Thank goodness that we forget about the pain.
I guess for me taking a pause and enjoying the process is about what you so eloquently described … accepting that discomfort and fear are part of the process and not losing ourselves in them but instead looking at them with a friendly eye. They are not there to hurt us, they are there to prepare us and strengthen us … there is new life being born, it hurts, there is confusion and uncertainty but all is good.
Often we get lost in the struggle. Taking the time to enjoy means putting the struggle down for a while, going for a walk, giving permission to ourselves to laugh, connect, and do the little everyday things that make life livable.
By the way, did you have to bring brownies up? It’s late and now I want a brownie … preferably with some vanilla ice cream on top 😃
Much love to you my friend 💜
Tara
Ohhh Yota,
I just love this story you have given us. So very inspiring and encouraging. I picture you so vividly. Working so diligently with your welcoming task at The Ashram. I have always had a tendency to overthink and over-analyze when tough times occur. Seeing things so much more clearly. It really doesn’t always have to be so hard! So aware of this now but still slip back into these old patterns when challenges occur.
Wish I had done some Ashram visits myself years ago but it’s never too late to gain insight into what is holding us back and not helping our healing process. I’ve actually thought about visiting Ashrams for years but never thought it was an option for me?
For now settling for taking quiet moments of contemplation in nature and finding peaceful space for myself during this extra challenging time.
I’m seeing progress with stepping back and pausing before becoming overwhelmed.
Keep em coming! 😌
Perfect timing. Thank you! 💕💕
Yota Schneider
Dear Tara,
I don’t know many people who don’t overthink and over-analyze when the going gets tough. One can argue that I am attracted to like-minded people 🙂
For as grateful as I am for the time I spent in the Ashram, I can tell you that there are many ways to practice silence and do inner work. I too find that time spent in Nature provides us with the inspiration and healing we need.
I wish you well during these times and always.
Big hugs ❤️
Kathleen
Thanks, Yota! I’m taking a few deep breaths and reminding myself that pushing and attempting to rush change just prevent me from experiencing what’s happening in the moment. The possibilities, the gifts that arise in the process are missed. Cultivating patience is an art–especially when things seem muddled and stuck. What a perfect time to step back and stop trying so hard! What doors might open!
Yota Schneider
You keep breathing Kathleen and allow things to happen in their own time. This doesn’t mean you’re not participating or doing your part. The doors are already opening. Outcomes are never guaranteed but it’s not about the outcomes, is it?
Thank you for being here and sharing.
Big hugs ❤️