There is Perfection in Life's Imperfection

I'm sitting next to an oak tree in the middle of nowhere, Indiana, and as I'm watching a caterpillar pull itself up to a branch, I am in contemplation mode. The 3-hour sweat lodge ceremony I facilitated ended an hour ago, and I'm needing some alone time to help ground my energy and commune with nature, before I reconvene with friends to bang on the guitar and sing some songs. It is the proverbial pause that refreshes. The equivalent of cleansing one's palette by eating a piece of ginger in between pieces of delicious sushi. While in the lodge, the role as leader/facilitator is to hold space for the participants so they can process what they need to, and now that it has ended, I'm letting Mother Earth hold space for me. What does "holding space" mean? Isn't that phrase counter-intuitive?

Holding space for others is about letting things unfold for them. Letting life happen with them. Allowing. Letting go. Simply being.

In the sweat lodge, 'holding space' is part creating and maintaining a safe environment for people to explore themselves, their wounds, their past, as they search for the "medicine", or wisdom that lies inside of them. 'Holding space' is part divine indifference, respecting that even though one's mind may think it sees problems that one could "fix", partially because they mirror one's own path, that one then chooses to stay out of the way, out of judgment, knowing everyone has their own sacred path, and life lessons to live and learn. The visual of a hollow root comes to mind, visible for everyone to see, and completely open and transparent so nothing gets caught. I am this hollow root. As for what we CAN do, is share one's own process, one's own experiences, in the hopes that it adds to anothers, which, is the ultimate intent for this blog. It is part respecting the traditional forms, whilst acknowledging the inherent death/re-birth paradox of the cycle of life that every tradition begins with a first year.

It is mostly seeing the perfection in all life's imperfection.

I hadn't ever been conditioned to this line of thinking. For most of my life, I have been "destination-oriented". Win the game, get the trophy, make the grade, beat the benchmark. And this isn't a bad or a good thing. It just is. I learned things like perserverance, independence, hard work, teamwork, drive. And they still exist for me, it's just they have a different voice, that of the caterpillar.

I used to try to save things, and rescue things, whether it be a relationship that just has outlasted its time or utility, a bad business idea, how 'bout all that shit that piles up in your garage that you never use? It amounts to stuck, or stale energy. There is a cycle to all things. We can either listen to our hearts and flow with it, or we can rationalize it ten ways under the sun, even though it doesn't feel right. We humans are dynamic creatures, always evolving, always shifting, whether we know it or not. The pattern for me would be to try to make things happen, instead of letting things unfold. The metaphor would be that I would see someone tied up on the train tracks, with a train coming right at them, and want to be the hero that saved them, but the train and the rope were both in my head. My ego. Our perceptions form our beliefs, and the great thing is quantum science allows that we can tune into a different channel on the perception radio station anytime we choose. More on that later.

I would try to take people's pain away, thinking pain meant something was wrong, not realizing then that the gift of pain is usually where grace is found. Where wisdom is found. Healers don't "heal", they facilitate healings. Healers don't fix, they help people help themselves.

You know that biblical saying, "give a man a fish, he eats for a day, teach a man to fish, he eats for life". There is some truth to that. Of course, I'll mess with my healer friends and say, "Just gimme one fucking fish, one fish, one nugget of wisdom.......and stop trying to teach me how you fish, I already know how to fish." They'll throw it back and say, "if you knew how to fish, you wouldn't be asking for a meal", lol.

Imagine though if you could glean just one wisdom nugget from everyone who crossed your path, no matter who or what they were or believed, what their skin color, gender, age, or whether or not they ate tuna tartare, Cheerios, rice, or Skittles for breakfast.

That is a lot of nuggets.

And that is the essence of abundance, and when you tap into that, it(abundance) will permeate all areas of your life.

Learning what to do is often a direct result of learning what not to do. I like peanut butter, I like tuna fish. I don't like them on the same sandwich. I don't like rhubarb, but I like to say rhubarb. I think 2 times zero should be 2, but since 6 billion other sentient human beings think 2 times zero is zero, I roll with it and figure out how to live in the latter's world.

Where was I?

The shamanic and Eastern view of pain is that it can be a communication, pain is transformative. Pain is OK, suffering is often time a choice we make, and it is up to us to choose different. It has been my experience that diving into that wound, or that pain, we learn our most amazing truths. Of who we are. And why we're here.

Three years ago, I had a chronically painful right elbow for a couple of years and had to wear a brace. By the end of every day, I couldn't lift my arm. My muscles were atrophying from no exercise. It was affecting my sleep patterns. I type a lot, I exercise a ton, I write, and no, it wasn't from too much masturbation, not that there's anything wrong with that for the readers who do. "Severe Tendinitis"-I was told. I had tried everything I could think of--physical therapy, acupuncture, massage, meditation, stretching, chiropractry, herbs, rest, diet, yadda, yadda, yadda. I had resigned myself to the fact that I would have to bear this in some form for the rest of my life. It never occurred to me that I was married to this pain, or that in some way this pain was serving my need for attention or need to play victim, or something. It was keeping me from actively participating in life. With a fucked up arm, I had an excuse(limiting) to not have to do my job the best I could, to say no to learning certain healing modalities, to say no to yoga/tai chi, to say no to playing the guitar, and then being able to tell a story about why I wasn't able to live my dream.

I did still keep searching. I came upon a bookstore seminar, one that I didn't understand, but sang to my Spirit. Fuck it, what do have to lose, I thought? I said yes. I went and learned how to re-wire my brain's limiting belief systems, using a modality called Psych-K, or psychological kinesiology. (www.psych-k.com) A good way to describe it, is it gets our "station" in tune with the signal, gets rid of the noise, makes our brain filter clear, so we can attract what it is that we need or ask for in this life.

Within 2 weeks, I meet another physical therapist, who tells me that he can help and to come into his office. On the first visit:

P-Trainer Guy: "it's not tendinitis Eric, it's your ulnar nerve that's trapped"

'In english, please.'

~(Eric in meditation): "your massive ego and narcissism are keeping you from accessing your true gifts, and leading an authentic life that is living on purpose."~

(wait a minute, who or what said that)

P-Trainer Guy: "Your nerve signals are messed up, and it's distorting the messages your muscles are receiving. I'll have you back up and runnin in less than 2 months." Snap.

True. And what occurred was I was able to meet someone who was able to help me get directly to the source, or where the root pain existed, rather than just treat the sympton. (enter light bulb, or angelic realms opening...laaaaaaaa) And I got to the source myself, which would just begin the journey of integrating the newfound awareness.

That's it. Get to the source. Get to know, and then take out, the "general" of problematic wound, and all the "soldiers" of pain surrender. Then, one can act as witness to things that happened. The metaphors are many. Unfortunately, while our medical system has blessed us with amazing evolutionary things such as anti-biotics, and brilliant surgeries, too much emphasis is focused on treating the symptoms, or getting rid of the pain. (with drugs). I feel that most people want the truth, and want to know the roots of their pain, be it emotional, physical, or spiritual. They just don't have someone, or a community of loving someones, that hold space for them to explore.

After the lodge, my friend Linda, gives me an offering. On the surface, it is just another moment in time. It is tradition to make an offering to the medicine person, or lodge facilitator, as an exchange for the healings that have occurred, yet there is no expectation of said offering. When I am in service, it is unconditional. I consider Linda not only a mentor and teacher, but a spiritual mother. She has held space for me for years, watching me grow, watching me stumble, watching me learn how to literally walk--my path. Holding space and watching me learn how to speak---my true voice. Holding space and watching me unfold. She has watched me stumble into learning about reverence(for life), while accepting that my punk-ass indigo energy is part of who I am. She saw the healer in me long before I was ready to accept it as my path. She encouraged the musician in me long before I was ready to sing or play. When I was experiencing some dark moments, she provided room to grow(and a hug or 3) until I was ready to bring them into the light. Unconditional love.

She has held space for me, and shared her process along the way.

I have watched her work through her fears of speaking and writing, and now she has written books, recorded CDs, and speaks in front of many. I have watched her process the losing of loved ones that hurt and made no sense, only to share those lessons with me and many others. I have watched her lose a business, only to see her create a community. I have watched her process this human experience. Her life process, or life journey, has added to mine.

She is an amazing woman, and as I like to say, all of this might be true, but not because I said it.

It is true for me. It is my truth. Only you can decide what your truth is, just as you and only you, are responsible for your own healing. Linda has gently stretched my universal spectrum, knowing it takes time for eyes to adjust to brighter light. That is what I call holding space.
And while there have been many who have done this for me, including some of the participants and bright lights in this particular sweat lodge, Linda has embodied it for me longer than anyone.

Linda came to the lodge for healing, for growth, for clarity. When she gave me the offering, it dawned on me that I had just held space for her. It is a privilege, and an honor, that someone you trust, trusts you to hold that space for them, and that is, in my humble opinion, the greatest gift you can give. She was willing to receive, for if we don't receive, we take away someone else's gift of giving.

Sacred reciprocity. An exchange over time. I was able to give back and hold the space in the same way which she learned me. You give AND you receive. Create space to have space to create. We do this for each other. A prayer I like and recited in this particular lodge, is simply,

"may you see that which you need to see, and hear that which you need to hear."

I rub my feet in the soft grass, and lay back with my arms behind my head, and I see there is a caterpillar hanging from a branch and I am observing this caterpillar for about 20 minutes. I feel like I am communicating with it telepathically, and even if that's a stretch of reality, the metaphors that are appearing in my mind and into my awareness are very real, and are synthesizing several fragmented ideas in my head, while crystallizing and spawning some new ones as well. I'm inside the "what" of what one might call conscious awareness, and it's easy for me to let go of the "how" this is occurring. My heart is smiling, and trying to figure out why would simply take me out of the moment.

The caterpillar has made little tangible progress, and I can tell it's going to take it all day, if not longer to arrive at its destination. The purpose of the journey is the journey itself. I wonder if the caterpillar is enjoying its journey. Am I enjoying mine?

I am.

To be sure, there are days, or moments, that don't taste so fantastic. Like someone "peed in your bowl of cosmic chili". The real learning occurs when you realize you were the one doing the urinating, and you were following your own recipe. Or, perhaps, you receive a letter in the mail, and it is full of advice you don't want to hear, or feel doesn't apply to you, so you put it back in the mailbox "Return to Sender". A day later you find out that YOU are the sender.

This is how our higher self communicates lessons to us, how it nudges us along until we remember who we are. The gift of the human experience, and its duality is that by learning what doesn't feel, taste, or sound good to us, we then have a frame for what does. Like that peanut butter and tuna fish sandwich. The great news is we have the ability(free will) to change our life recipe, or how we perceive it.

The caterpillar I am watching is in the process of beginning its sojourn to form the chrysallis from which a beautiful butterfly will emerge. I realize how interconnected the caterpillar journey is with that of the butterflys. From there, how connected our human paths are to that of the caterpillar's long transformation. It clicks in how much the sum of all of my more dense caterpillar-like experiences(read: shitty ones(at the time)) are connected to those lighter ones I associate with that of a flying butterfly. My 5 year-old daughter is perfect, and in every way. She is my inspiration, and so helped learn unconditional love. In learning how to nurture her, I have learned to nurture myself. In learning how to nurture myself, how to nurture my ideas, my art, my voice.

It follows that every perfect Daddy day of present moments that I share with my daughter, is connected with every imperfect moment that came before it, or before her, good or bad. Suddenly, I see the inherent perfection in all prior imperfections.

Imperfection broken down = I'm perfection, or I am perfection.

I take a pinch of tobacco from my medicine bag, and offer it in gratitude to the caterpillar and the Earth for this time, and head back to the group to play some guitar around the campfire.

I know the night is going to be a joy, and full of kindred spirits and laughter, and I'm not worried about hitting the perfect note, or singing the perfect song, for I know now more than ever:

There is perfection in imperfection.

Aho,

Eric