Life is nothing if not a good story. We unpack them to look at these stories by ourselves and either mourn or rejoice with things we have a story about. We unpack them for audiences large and small. We love and are truly attached to our stories. They define us, they are our limiters and sometimes, our expanders.
We love and learn from stories so I am going to share one with you to hopefully inspire you to lighten your load—your tragic-story load, that is.
My teacher, Yogi Bhajan, was many things to many people. It was very clear to me that I was given a spiritual teacher because I longed to be connected to the Divine. That was why I used mind-altering substances, why I went to mass every day till college, why I loved sitting in chapels to get clarity on my life.
I didn’t get caught in all the hoopla of court cases, rumors, or whatever they were, because I loved the teachings. I didn’t love the politics.
This gave him a lot of freedom in our relationship. He knew he could tell me to do something and I would do it, or die trying. It didn’t matter if he was good or bad or super great or crazy. I trusted I was there for my soul connection.
I decided it was time for me to do a 1000-day meditation (meaning consecutive days). Somehow it didn’t register that I had done several in the sadhanas he had given us: Long Ek Ong Kars and Chanting to Guru Ram Das (Ra Ma Da Sa). So, in all eager innocence, I went up to him after a class in Los Angeles and asked for a 1000-day meditation. He granted my wish and told me to do So Darshan Chakra Kryia, oh, for 2.5 hours a day. He was passing this meditation out freely at that time, so I decided it must be the flavor of the Divine for that time. I approached it with great enthusiasm. I had never met a meditation I hadn’t loved.
Till then, grrrrrrrr, I have to honestly say I didn’t just “sorta not like this meditation.” I had a total hate fest with it! 2.5 hours a day is a lot of endurance with something you don’t love. So, after 2 weeks (yep, I tried), I quit with a great sigh of relief.
Knowing my teacher and his memory, I knew I had to wait a few months till he moved on to another meditation before I approached him again. I waited and then waited a little longer (think 3 months), then I asked him again. Boom he looked at… no, looked through me, and gave me the same @!#%$^^ meditation.
So, I determined I had to find a way to love this stupid meditation. Guess what I did? It became my life line. I fell in love with:
How alive I felt afterwards
How clear I felt
How much lighter I felt
How it opened my upper back
Oh, and the heat was great
The debris of the past became truly past. I could view it as if it belonged in someone else story.