Category Archives: stories

My website is here!

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Dear Light Bringers on the path,

It is with great and delightful pleasure that I am able to announce the “launching of my new website. This website was a gift, given to my from my sister after a Thetahealing manifestion exercise I helped to facilitate for her with creator to remove her credit card debt. It also represents the answer to a manifestation I had experienced with creator a week and a half prior to manifest a business and the means of having a business that promotes healing and thetahealing for anyone.

I am very honored to share this with you; moreso, I am honored to begin the healing process every day anew, with grace ease and joy.

In addition to this excitement, I have opened a space in central Manhattan-The Green Room: At Pilates on Fifth. This space is directly across the street from The NewYork City Public Library!

I am eager to offer yoga, meditation, positive thinking, Thai yoga bodywork and Integrated bodywork, and Thetahealing consultations, as well as creating customized healing plans and programs for anyone who is ready and aligned with it both out of this space and with you. Thetahealing sessions may be done over the phone; energy of the creative source travels everywhere and is everywhere! If you would like to be in contact with me about the special 2 for 1 Grand Opening offers, please email me at: lilayoga9@gmail.com!

In the mean time, I thought I would share an original poem to honor all of us who are in transit, moving an embracing the dynamic in all things, on this beautiful, exciting and awesome journey of being alive!

much love and gratitude to you all on this beautiful winter’s day,

Amy J.

Conversations with Joy

If you let love wash over you,

will you survive?

Go closer to the horizon’s edge,

and see if you are still afraid.

Wander earth’s countryside

if you need, but children

smile and cry everywhere,

remaining continuous.

Dispose of everything you can;

you no longer need these items here,

and while you are partaking,

sip from the luscious cup of my laughter.

I promise, you will be so drunk,

you will find your way home.

copyright 2014, Amy Hellman

My Journey with Thetahealing®

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In 2010, my sister was living at the Sivananda Yoga Ashram and Retreat in Paradise Island,  Bahamas. I had recently moved back to the U.S., having had my heart broken in the U.K. when I was told my PhD research proposal was “original and ground-breaking but not the type of research an institution like Oxford wants to support.” In an effort to heal and create a life for myself stateside in New York City, I participated in and completed a vinyasa yoga teacher training certification. My younger sister had been asking me to come and visit her on the ashram, and when the opportunity to become a certified Thai Yoga bodyworker manifested itself there, and we both registered for it,  I knew things were queued to shift.

The courses and trainings there were sublime. Each night, the ashram hosts speakers from around the world, all experts in their various fields of healing, medicine, art, music, and life. I had the unique and rare privilege of being present at the ashram whilst Vianna Stibal, the founder of Thetahealing was teaching a course, and I had the opportunity to listen to her speak for a few nights in a row.

When I saw her, I liked her instantly. The energy she hosts around her is warm, gentle, and full of creator’s love; at the time, I imagined she was perhaps a little out of it, as she smiled long and deeply, and kept her eyes closed for stretches of time while she spoke, which seemed almost silly. I later learned, that she was giving her talks primarily from a theta brainwave, hence the sleepy gentle and soft  eyes-closed appearance.

She explained the mechanics of Thetahealing, cracked a number of jokes, and we were all putty in her warm welcoming arms. Who couldn’t appreciate someone so human, so real, and so aware of the light in every single thing who simultaneously seemed to appreciate the humor in things? As she spoke, my heart beat in tune with the words she was saying; simultaneously, I felt the anger and resistance of years of skepticism saying to me “this is nuts!”

Thetahealing is a form of focused thought, meditation or prayer that uses the theta brain wave to facilitate healing through the creator of all that is- the life force, prana, qi, God. It can identify and remove limiting negative beliefs that can lead to dis-ease or imbalance in the body, mind and spirit, and replace those limiting beliefs with positive beliefs and feelings that serve the recipient in the highest and best way thereby allowing shifts in the client’s reality to take place to facilitate healing in different ways.

Vianna spoke about faeries,  spirits, and about healing many individuals, including herself of life threatening illnesses using creator’s unconditional love and this technique. I thought, “I want this in my life.”

The talk ended, and I walked outside to my room, and then, I forgot all about it.

A month after I returned from the ashram, a friend of a friend connected me to Andrea; she was doing Deep Emotional Release Bodywork- a type of bodywork designed to access subconscious emotional traumas and fears and release them through a gentle energetic shift. I went to her, as my heart was broken and still partially living in the U.K.. After a few sessions with her, she told me she had become certified as a Thetahealing practitioner the previous weekend, and did I know about this modality, and would I be interested in receiving a healing. I said yes.

My first session with Andrea: she scanned my body and then asked me if I had been having right shoulder trouble since July- I said yes, that since I found out that I would be moving back to the U.S.- since I found out that I would not be pursuing my PhD,  I had been struggling with nerve pain in my right shoulder, and I had been having serious trouble feeding my self properly as I had been struggling with depression since that time as well. During our first session, we muscled tested a series of beliefs I held so safely inside my heart I thought no one would ever see them. My body did not understand what it felt like to feed itself and receive proper nutrition for balance.” “My heart is broken.” “I don’t know what it feels like to live my daily life receiving proper nourishment in all its forms.” “I am a failure.” “I am a victim to my depression.” “My emotions control me.” “I am at the mercy of my feelings.” “I hate my mother.” ….

As I said these things out loud, and she muscled tested me, they tested positive. I was so embarrassed, so ashamed of my self, of my body for revealing what was truly inside me, so deeply, that I began to cry. The world suddenly seemed so dark, so full of desperation. All my dark truths and dirty laundry had been aired, and there was no hope.

Andrea asked me, “Amy, would you like to know what it feels like to be nurtured? to have a full and healthy heart, to live your daily life receiving all the nutrition you need? to live without being a victim to your depression, without having your emotions control you, and without being at the mercy of your feelings, to be loved by your mother?” I laughed, surprised. “YES!” I practically shouted amidst the deluge of snot pouring from my nose.

We closed our eyes. She placed her hands under mind, and together, we sat, on her couch, on the upper west side in Manhattan, for what seemed like perhaps seconds, although I am sure it must have been longer.  I felt a rush of movement into my body, a shift moving through out every part of me, I saw a bull in a china shop terrorizing everyone, and I was that bull, and suddenly, the bull began to dance gracefully about, knocking no thing over, as if it were the easiest thing in the world. I saw food, and I understood, in every way, how to feed my self. It was not just what food groups to eat and when; it was the universal understanding of nurturing and how to do it, and I laughed out loud, because it was so simple, and yet, I had never known!

After my session with Andrea, my shoulder pain was gone, my depression resolved significantly, and my relationship with food, my body, and the easefulness of feeding myself became more and more of a reality.

I continued working with Andrea for a number of years, and she has facilitated healing for me in many areas of my life for which I am eternally and unconditionally grateful. Her healings ultimately brought me to where I am today.

Last January, I spent the month at the ashram, only this time, I was participating in the month long Sivananda teacher training intensive: a month of continuous direct experience of all facets of yoga, and the experience was profoundly transformative not simply in my teaching technique as a yoga instructor but also my life style has been profoundly affected, and this has caused shifts in my life that have ultimately led me to healing arts as a full time life journey.

During this month, Vianna Stibal was again visiting! Again, she spoke, and I knew, in my heart, that I was going to become a Thetahealer within the year. An ayurvedic doctor at the ashram told me I would be pursuing my true path in energy work by June, and I was a bit hesitant to believe her, but I could not deny that I felt what she said bore some strong truths.

I returned to NYC, transformed from my yoga training, and as I learned to adapt my new practices to my daily life as a teacher, tutor, writer, lover, friend, sister, daughter, my life began to shift. By April- a time during the school year when students that are taking tests, regents exams, exams, and standardized tests- I was completely run down emotionally and physically. With the onset of the world’s season of spring time pollen, I contracted a small cold that refused to leave. I did not give it the opportunity to leave, as I was working long hours and traveling all around the city to accommodate my various careers.

After three weeks, the cold migrated into my ears, and I began to lose my hearing. At first, it was one ear, as if I had gone under water, and never come up, and eventually, it expanded to both ears. My GP exhausted medications and options and eventually referred me to an ENT, who charged my insurance thousands of dollars to blow air into my sinuses and pop my ears. This helped, but unfortunately, I did not have 24/7 access to said sinus air ear popper contraption, so in the long term, it served little purpose. I went on steroids, and these helped only slightly. I turned towards acupuncture, and found some immediate relief within a week. The came the rains of April, and my hearing worsened, and the acupuncture sessions I was receiving only helped during the session and provided no relief outside. As much as I was willing to keep the needles in me 24/7, it would have been very challenging to navigate the NYC streets when people move so quickly and push without a second thought.

I started seeing my friend, Abel, who is a craniosacral therapist and zero balancer, as because of the pressure in my ears, I had developed TMJ. My jaw was so swollen that I was clenching my jaw all hours of the day as a means of compensation. My sessions with Abel were profound, and they alleviated the TMJ very effectively and also helped with improving my hearing. Again, I noticed that my hearing was better immediately afterwards, but a few hours later, it has regressed.

I began to lose hope, and luckily the school year for my courses was ending, but I still could not hear, and I decided to stop teaching yoga for the summer, feeling that if I was not meant to be hearing what was outside of my body, then I better begin paying attention to what was happening INSIDE.

I did the unthinkable. I quit some jobs. I gave up viable sources of income. I paid attention to me. Suddenly, I was not working; I had all this free time to do whatever I wanted. Living off of my savings was scary since my savings were limited, but I felt like I was going to die if I did not stop what I had been doing and change something. Something had to shift.

Around this time, I  bought the Basic DNA Thetahealing Book that I had held in my hands at the Barnes and Noble on 86th street on numerous occasions that spring but never felt like it was the right time. It was the right time now. I had nothing to do, no where to  be, and since I could not hear very well, and every practice I  tried seemed to have only partially worked, the time seemed pretty ideal.

In my back yard,  amidst the tomato plants and sunflower stalks, I sat in the hammock reading , and every word made sense. Vianna includes step by step guidelines for the theta practice, and as I practiced, I continued to read. I began to travel into theta every day and feel the calm spread over my body, the joy infect my world.

My sister told me that Vianna had given her a healing once when she first moved to the ashram and was going through drug withdrawal. She said that the effects of the healing on her body were so profound that her withdrawal symptoms vanished, and she was able to participate fully in ashram life immediately.

I read Vianna’s book twice in June, a third time in July. I began identifying negative beliefs and was amazed and excited to facilitate successful healings on my self. I began to notice emotional shifts in my body and my behavior. I was writing again, and feeling, and connecting to the world around me, and I was excited and inspired!

My hearing was still impaired.

After a few sessions in June with Andrea, and an intense liver flush and detox, which continued for about two months after initial flush itself, I felt a strong pull to go visit my father and grand-parents in Cottonwood, Arizona for the 4th of July with my partner, Corey, so we booked tickets. Cottonwood is about 20 miles away from Sedona, an epicenter of energetic activity in the American Southwest. We went on walks and hikes, and enjoyed the quick weekend; I facilitated a healing with my father, who at the time, was in the process a separation with my mother, and my father’s response was positive and profound.

During this respite from NYC, I asked creator why my hearing was not returning, and what I had to do to restore it. The answer I received was, “Write a letter to your mother.” This made sense to me, given my parents’ current relationship status, so I began to write.

As a child and young adult, I prided my self on being present in letter writing. I saved an enormous box full of letters that I received from as early as 4 years old, and only in this past week, have I fully shed the majority of them, opening up space for new things in my life. It is easy for me to write letters, but after about a page of scrawling to my mother, my inspiration dried up, and I had nothing to say to her. To this day, this letter remains unfinished.

I returned home feeling sad that I was leaving my father, that I still had things to do out there. Corey suggested that I return to visit him at the beginning of August, so I planned a road trip with my sister, brother-in-law, and three nephews who were driving from New Jersey to Missouri, where they reside. I would tag along and ride with them, then fly to Phoenix, and then drive a van with my father to Missouri as a gift to my sister and her family from our grand-parents.

Our journey began, and we drove on guru purnima- the hindu holiday that honors one’s teacher- across the U.S. to Missouri. Wedged in the back of the caravan minnivan, next to my adorable nephews, I re-read Thetahealing by Vianna Stibal, and as I went into theta, a sudden awareness, and knowing arrived in me. I asked creator, “Creator, is the mother I am meant to write to my biological mother?” A gentle and patient ring of laughter filled my mind, as I heard, “Of course she isn’t your biological mother, Amy.”

Excited and full of anticipation, I asked, “Well, then what is her name?”  Two weeks before- the day after I received creator’s insight to write a letter to my mother to heal my hearing loss, my biological aunt urged me to write letters, to reach out to people in my life I considered my mentors or people I wanted to be my mentors, as a means of transcending the emotional challenges of being an adult and coping with parents in the midst of a confusing separation. I knew that I had to do something if now my aunt was telling me to do it. Funnily enough, I need explicit instructions. Creator telling me through my aunt did not cut it. I I did not have to wait long now, as her name appeared in my mind’s eyes: “Vianna.”

Later the next day, we arrived in Warrensburg, MO, a town credited with coining the phrase, “dog is man’s best friend.” I waited a full week and a half before writing the letter. I was too afraid; “what if all I need to do is write this letter and my hearing returns? What if the impossible is possible? What if I have lost my mind, and now I’m having conversations with my self and am resting comfortably in delusion?” I decided waiting made sense, as I still had to return to Sedona and finish the work I started there with healing my relationship with my father and my reality with them a few weeks earlier.

I spent a week in Sedona,  facilitating thetahealing exercises on my self each day, and taking hikes with my father in the different energy vorteces in the early mornings. We walked his lovely dog L.I.T.A- Love is the answer- on red rocks, and felt the movement of earth singing all around us. The first few days of my trip, however, I was violently sick. My body purged it self in an immense detox that left me shaking and feeling as if I had time travelled back in time to a 10 year old version of my self, with images of my father handing me a glass of gingerale with a straw in it. There was something embarrassing and utterly appropriate about my fever-ridden adult body stripping down and shaking under duvets while my father watched tv in the next room always quick to come in an check on me if I made any noise. There was something that spoke of home in this exchange.

On my roadtrip with my father, we drove through northern Arizona, New Mexico, Texas, and Oklahoma before we found our way into MO. Our trip started out great, but I had made the mistake of making some requests to creator earlier in the day to help me clean my kidneys, as I felt a lot of congestion from being sick, and somewhere in between the petrified forest and Albequerque, I pooped neon orange worms on the side of a road next to some tumble weed and sage brush while it hailed  ice rocks the size of  beads on my head right next to a divey bar with a sign that read, “Restrooms are for CUSTOMERS ONLY.”

The next morning, the engine light in the car went on, and neither of us wanted to stop until we got to Missouri. We arrived that night quite late, and it was that night that I wrote Vianna’s letter.

I sat on my nephew’s bed, with a big piece of sketch paper and a silver blue pen, which ran out of ink about six lines deep into the letter. I did not know what to say, so I asked for guidance, and there it was. I explained this story- the one I am explaining to you now, and I told her that I felt that I was ready to learn more from a teacher,  and if she could hold some space for me to heal my ears and manifest this reality, I would be eternally grateful. This letter was more than the skeptic in my body could hold- the body of the skeptic- that container was too small for what I was living in in that moment- the reality I was currently in was a reality of the limitless bountiful possibility of anything. I was ready. I was willing.

I kept the letter a few more days until I returned to NYC just to be sure.

My first day back, I walked down the the street towards the mail box. I felt sure, repeating a few mantras as I stepped, acknowledging the sacredness of this experience as much as I could in the sweaty heat of the city summer morning already beckoning my skin to start the never-ending journey of perspiration. Putting the letter into the mail box was easy. I wondered, for a moment, as I held the box open, looking at my letter sitting there, what the next part will be like? I closed the lid, and opened it again, just to check that it had been placed inside, and it was gone.

The noises from the BQE zoomed on my right. The brakes of a car pulling into the Burger King drive-thru  creaked in front of me. To my left, a woman was talking on her cell phone about her date the night before. It was so subtle that I almost missed it; the shift from a hiatus from sound to muddled silence and back again was like the cat who always lurked in the corners at family gatherings, and you noticed when he was not present but did not succeed in noticing if he ever returned. I could hear. It was like learning language again, and things sounded funny, louder, clearer. My hearing continued to improve all that day, and by the end of the night, I felt my hearing was almost back to normal. Over the next few days, my hearing continued to improve, and my hearing has fully regained itself.

A week  and a half later, one day after my birthday where I asked creator to manifest with me my future career, Ellen Cohen a NY-based Thetahealing Practitioner and instructor, responded to my email of inquiry with a phone call. She had been at the ashram the previous January taking a course with Vianna, and would I like to take the Basic DNA course at the end of the month? The answer was a full bodied YES!

I have since continued  my studies with Ellen with the Advanced DNA certification and am heading to Garden City tomorrow morning to take a certification in Manifesting and Abundance. My intention is to serve, and I would like to use this beautiful gift I have been given and share it with any one who is willing and interested, offering Thetahealing consultations and this summer obtaining my certificate to become a teacher of Thetahealing for others, so that anyone may practice Thetahealing. I am so grateful. Turning inward, has revealed me, and now that I no longer have the beliefs to suffer in that way, I think what an honour and humbling experience it would be to facilitate others’ growth into their “impossible realities.” How beautiful to make all of our dreams come true.

Om tat sat.

Kindness and SELF-HEALING

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Om namah sivaya, dear friends,

 

A dear beautiful woman and friend of mine is on a journey to heal her self by being brave and seeking the support of strangers.

 

Please click on the link below to read Rita’s story and how you may be able to help her heal, grow, and share her story with others.

 

www.goFUNDme.com/60c154.

 

blessings,

 

Amy J.

LIFE IS GREAT- SUPPORT WOMEN IN COMEDY!

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Happy New Year, Loves!

 

Get ready for some beautiful updates and news about my website launch, a new space launch in central Manhattan in February among others, but in the mean time, please support three talented women (and yoga practitioners!) in their manifestation of their dream.

Click the link below to read more about the show they are creating together!

http://www.indiegogo.com/projects/life-s-great

 

om tat sat.

 

Amy J.

Supplanting Limitations: Exercising the Ego Through the Creative Process

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Om Namo Narayanaya, dear friends and lovers,

Happy End of October! The autumnal fever is at its height and flourishing, as metabolisms slow, and actions turn inward in preparation for the dark and cosy winter ahead, but for now, let us enjoy the moment of leaves fluttering down from above, the lurking whips of cold as they find their way through the sleeves of our autumn coats and numb our wrists. Let us be here now.

I wanted to be a writer when I was younger.

I hid the idea of being a writer as an adult for the sole reason that I was afraid. For years, I believed that I would be given a golden opportunity; one day, I would be walking down the street, and a man in a three piece suit and top hat would come bounding off of a golden gilded horse and buggy, to offer me in a polite flourish of his arm, everything my heart desired. My genie was a victorian Englishman.

At some point, it dawned on me that sometimes life was a challenge. This belief limited the allowance of creative abundance in my life for many years, rendering my personality, as my younger sister might be inclined to say, “really bitchy.”

Most people who are really bitchy are usually unhappy, I have observed, and I was. I was unhappy, because somehow, I acquired the belief that I could not enjoy writing poetry, writing anything, or doing anything at all for that matter, because in my cells, the belief existed that whatever I might become, I would never be the best or think highly of my experience and skills.

These beliefs limited my ability to manifest abundance in my life. Upon removing these limiting beliefs through Thetahealing, I found I no longer feared what had been limiting me for so long: my self.

Instead, every tool I have is within me, right now, and I am practicing every day and am so grateful. It is a practice to do something and be in the practice of the action itself. It is karma yoga, selfless service; detached from the outcome of writing great poetry or world-class canon-esque literature, I can be in the process of creation with Creator, and trust that this practice in and of itself is necessary and contains unity.

I will be posting from two drafts of collections I have been working on the past six months in the upcoming weeks. I would love any comments and support through constructive criticism, as I relearn this process.

Much love,

Amy Jayalakshmi

Manna Healing Forecasting Hello J. Laser Circus

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Trunk of Mystery gauranteed to promote your health!

Om namah Sivaya, dear friends and lovers,

Last night was a beautiful success at Hello J. Laser’s Circus to Delight and Astound a the Magnet Theater in Chelsea. I set up the trunk before the show and was happy to have a wonderful trickle of individuals seeking guidance on the future and insight into the world of healing and extracts all through out the evening. I look forward to hearing from all of you who spoke to me when and how the future unfolds.

The show was a delight, full of wonderful singing and musical acts, a belly dancer, fantastical sketch and a handsome improvised set.

Hello J. Laser Calamondin and Vanilla Cocktail Syrup

For more information on the items in this trunk, read up in my archive, or contact me via email: lilayoga9@gmail.com.

with love,

Amy Jayalakshmi

 

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Manna Healing; Abundance abounds!

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Dearest Readers,

September has arrived, and with the Equinox, autumn has made herself known to us all. Harvest moon, colder evenings, snuggling close and warm under soft blankets, and drink deep, reaping the rewards of the heat and effort of the summer.

I am writing a brief message to ask you all to take a peek at my profile. Much has been afoot the past months, and Lilayoga has evolved into Manna Healing, an integration of many healing modalities, products and possibilities. I ask you to reach out to me with questions! Expect more information on products and healings in the upcoming days.

In the mean time, I love you, all of you.

in love and light,

Amy Jayalakshmi

The Topography of Lila: Mapping the Disappearance of Play: Part I

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It’s recess! Everybody go outside! Go! Step away from reading these words, from surfing the internet for the next great deal, or from updating your Twitter feed- – go outside! For the next fifteen minutes, your job, your one obligation  is to play. Set a timer if you need to, but do it; get outside, sit somewhere, walk, jump, smile, talk to someone you have been meaning to speak to, or speak- God forbid- to a complete stranger, or no one at all, but do it! Even if it is raining, what is the worst that can happen? In 15 minutes, you will be back inside! When you are finished, or when the lovely disconcerting bell of your alarm chimes, signaling the end of your recess, come back inside, sit down, and we will continue.

When you read that first sentence, what did you feel? And then immediately after that, what did you think about? What action did that feeling result in? Did you go outside, or did you sneakily stay here, reading on, imagining you went outside. If you are guilty of the latter- no worries, now is a second chance- GO OUT AND HAVE RECESS! FIFTEEN MINUTES!

To be honest, I probably would not have left the comfort of my seat. I would have kept on reading, simply because it seems to be the “energetically more efficient” way to exist. I sit here; I read, and then I intellectually synthesize what I just read. I do not need to do anything, because my previous experience tells me that I do not need to do something I have already done to know what it is about.  As I grew up, my sense of exploration suddenly seems to be shrinking to the landscape of my synapses only. Why do we bequeath the realm of play to the small?

Societies everywhere dictate that we fulfill certain obligations at particular times in our life; it is standard and widely accepted that everyone obtains some form of education. It is expected, in various socio-economic spheres, that some individuals achieve a college degree, and in others, it is anticipated that you get married as soon as possible. In others, you are expected to inherit the profession of your family; and still, in others, one ought to go out and depart from the safety of their family to prove themselves independent and self-sufficient. Each culture composes its own little nest of expectations. Some micro-cultures rely heavily on these expectations, and any digression or lack of fulfillment of them results in disappointment, judgment, and sometimes, alienation. The peoples of all social frameworks have a big job; we have to fulfill certain social expectations whilst endeavoring to discover and/or explore our own individual and collective purpose in life. What suffers or disappears as a result?

A major shift takes place; we bear personal witness to the transformation  and changing of hands of our personal commodities that define and separate who we are as children and who become as adults. All of this occurs internally.  As children, our personal commodities- or rather our tools for creating and manifesting our selves in the world- if we are lucky- often can involve words like: joy, spontaneity, games, wonder, curiosity, hope, invention and reinvention. As adults- or even earlier- these words recede into the background of our personal vernacular, and our experience dictates new words take their place: being happy, planning, schedules and timeframes, exhaustion, apathy, disappointment, memorization, and fulfilling of duties. This is not to say that childhood is exclusively fun and exciting at all times, nor is adulthood one big massive disappointment. Rather, as we gather experience and understanding of the world around us, we begin to “make sense” of it and to pass judgments: some are useful like, “A green light at a traffic intersection means go” and some are less useful, “Every man in a suit is businessman douchebag.”

We use play and exploration as children to understand and make sense of the world and impose an understanding upon it. As adults, we use the map we started charting as children to continue to flesh out the details and texture of our personal and collective landscape, and that understanding gathered in childhood becomes fixed and somehow less fluid. There are survival benefits to this, certainly.  Each of us possesses a different map; some maps are littered with details, some are haphazard, but absolutely every map is personal and therefore biased in some way towards its creator.

Chuang Tzu, a 4th century BCE Chinese Philosopher, said, ‘ Once upon a time I dreamed myself a butterfly, floating like petals in the air, happy to be doing as I pleased, no longer aware of myself! But soon enough I awoke and then, frantically clutching myself, Chuang Tzu I was! I wonder: Was Chuang Tzu dreaming himself the butterfly, or was the butterfly dreaming itself Chuang Tzu? Of course, if you take  Chuang Tzu and the butterfly together, then there’s a difference between them. But that difference is only due to the changing material forms.'” (Translated by Moss Roberts)

Chuang Tzu’s exploration of his dream brings up two interesting thoughts: the first is the universal and widely accepted acknowledgment that butterflies symbolize: transformation, transmutation, and dynamism. From caterpillar to chrysalis to butterfly, this magical creature is forever in a state of dynamic interaction with itself and the world around it. Chuang Tzu then continues to say that the only difference between his human self and that of his butterfly self is a matter of physical form. Were it not for the physical mapping of the forms of “Chuang Tzu” and “butterfly,” they could very well be one and the same. Is not Chuang Tzu then, just as mutable as a butterfly? Who decided that he was a person and not a butterfly, anyway? Society? Himself?

The concept of Lila derives it self from the Hindu notion that the universe is an enormous and infinite playground for the pantheon of deities that make up its vast and colorful religion: to reinterpret this in modern speak, thoughts of gentle acceptance and  elated play come to mind, rendering malleable and possible all “impossibilities.” To play is not to cast off one’s responsibilities, shirking the expectations of the social matrix of which we are all a part; perhaps rather, lila evokes the idea of a spirited symbol of allowing our self-cartographers within to enjoy the trip, explore, and continually discover and witness.

Returning to Truth- The Narrative Source of Our Intentions- Sādhanā- Part II

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We all believe ourselves to possess particular characteristics that define who we “are.” “I” am a nice person; “I” am a funny person. “I” like cats. “I” prefer small gatherings to big parties. Somehow all of these details and countless others sifted from years of self-observation and judgment, combine to form the person “I” consider myself to be. Based on these factors, we create our personal narratives- our stories- to assimilate into society’s convoluted matrix. From “our” stories we base our decisions and live according to the strict code of our “self.” Using this lexicon, there is no distinction between the “Ego” and the “Self.” We fall into our “self” roles so effortlessly simply because it is the socio-genetic material passed down to us, and what other choice do we have? Ultimately, what drives us to act and respond to stimuli, has more to do with who we perceive “ourselves” to be than anything else. It is because we see our “selves” as responsible, trustworthy, or good that we fulfill the duties presented to us; alternatively, it is because we see our “selves” as broken, sad, or damaged that we see failure in ourselves.

The ego is that which, according to Latin and ancient Greek, signifies “I,” and which, according to Sigmund Freud’s three-part breakdown of the psyche from Beyond the Pleasure Principle, represents that aspect, which is responsible for acting and mediating the processing and mediating of reality in relation to the other aspects of the psyche: the ID and the Superego. In this way, we come to know our “selves;” we view “who” we are as simply a compilation of ego processes, justifications for inconsistencies in the floor plan.Within our manufactured “ego” script lies expectations like: work so you can be successful, make money, and support your family, take care of your family, so your progeny can work, be successful, and make money, take vacation days, and DO NOTHING, so you will be rested for returning to work, to make money, and be successful.

If we are programmed, however inadvertently, to buy into this ideology of our ego’s/”self’s” need to acclimate to society’s expectations of propriety and essentially generate our identities and personal “subjectivities” around these cultural norms, why then, does every person on this planet, the awareness coming to a head in adolescence and cyclically repeating again and again until we die, feel, in some way, insecure about what they are doing and who they are? As far as modern science permits us, we are the only species to self-reflect in that way.

It is essential for human beings to maintain a healthy internal balance, or homeostasis, in order to survive. There is an inborn obligation of each cell in the body to function in a particular manner. Whilst each cell possesses a particular genetic purpose, they then join with other cells to become organs, and each organ, possessing its own unique duty, serves a particular purpose to maintain the delicate balance of our systems, thereby maintaing our “health,” and ultimately, keeping us alive. In many ways, it is incredible and extraordinary that every cell in our bodies works so microcosmically and the end result just happens to be so very macrocosmic!

How can the bits and pieces that make our bodies know exactly what they should be doing and do it without question, without expectation for results- very rarely do we thank our individual cells, “Hey, you there, cell 200,145 in my liver! Thanks for all your hard work and commitment to helping me filter out all the crap I put in me and making all that bile for me! I really appreciate it!” Yet we, the inhabitants of said bodies, composed of so many cells each with a specific job, so often commit to actions and repeatedly feel overwhelmed and disappointed, because what we expected is not what actually occurred? We very rarely thank our selves for all the hard work we are doing, and meanwhile, our cells’ intention is simple: give energy and work; the result is incidental.

What is our intention as human beings? Rather than through a process, we seek success and meaning through said process’ results. In every one of its forms: fiscal, social, romantic, emotional, intellectual, spiritual, society renders these options to our egos, and ideally, we must only choose which one to pursue and go out and get it. This process begins early. The question posed by every first grade teacher: “what do you want to be when you grow up? plagued my six year old mind and sent me into the samskara of “who am I and why?” years before adolescence reared its head.

At the time, my parents were co-presidents of a small but highly successful waste-paper brokerage company. Both of my sisters already knew what they wanted to be: my older sister, an artist, and my younger sister, who was then only four, a paleontologist. Most of what I was interested in doing at the time was making friends at my new school and trying not to get made fun of for being a smarty pants and having the remnants of a misdiagnosed speech impediment. I hardly cared for tomorrow, let alone fifteen years from tomorrow. The day my teacher asked that fateful question, was the day I came home crying buckets full of fearful and confused tears. Wasn’t just going to school enough? Did I have to be responsible for tomorrow as well? What I was certain of was that since my sisters already decided on their professions, I would be saddled with the obligation of inheriting the family business. The thought of wearing business suits, having meetings with men who smoked cigars and ate plates of lobster and steak and drank brown spicy smelling liquid out of big glass tumblers whilst talking about bales of corrugated was horrifying to me not because I did not fully understand it or appreciate the many luxuries and opportunities that financial success afforded myself and my family, but rather, because it would be my duty to step into that job so that my sisters might pursue the professions that spoke to their hearts. In the end, after much sadness, which lasted about a day in total but felt to my young self like an eternity, I accepted for the majority of my elementary school experience, that I would have to be my parents’ successor. I lived, went about my schooling, and in fifth grade when my father’s ulcerative colitis became so severe that my parents had to close their business and admit my father to the hospital- amidst the awareness of my father’s very fragile mortality- I breathed a sigh of relief. I had been liberated from my duty! Now as an 11 year old, I had been accepted into the elite circle! I could begin the process of answering the question posed by Marcia Sondergaard, my first grade teacher, the question every child faces eventually that yields lifetimes of difficulty, “what (and more importantly, who) do you want to be when you grow up?”

The question of how one is to live is a question that is hardly new to humanity. Our culture’s motivation to push us towards a goal that is difficult to reach is not incorrect or inappropriate. It simply leaves out the essential piece that we, each of us, are already the goal, and perhaps the process to achieving that goal of our “selves” (not the “I” of the “ego” but something more organic, soon to be discussed!) is already accessible to us. This is paradoxically convoluted and incredibly simplistic. We have arrived at that which we seek from the moment we manifest as beings in this world, and we know who we are and how we are from the very beginning; perhaps the most prevalent aspect that prevents us from encountering this simple truth is a lack of trust and love for ourselves. The complicated result of weaving stories and tales about “who” we are, thereby creating expectations for what we ought to be yields endless judgment, dragging us further away from the fact that, we, as people, are our worst critics. Full of judgment, we lose faith and trust in ourselves.

During my last thai yoga massage training course this past summer, I found myself falling into a depression that was was catalyzed by giving and receiving some intensely profound bodywork. I picked fights with those closest around me and was often tearful. The emotions, without provocation, just spilled out of me like water from a loosed fire hydrant in the sticky hot New York summer. I was learning, processing past hurts, exploring the release of metta, loving kindness, at the hands of my fellow massage practitioners. A fellow classmate, Marianne, who had herself been having a difficult week due to problems navigating childcare for her children and the stresses of being a mother, wife, woman, and bodyworker, led me through a meditation prior to our final massage practical, in which she grounded me from the root of my spine all the way to the crown of my head. Sitting in front of me, as I held my hands in yoni mudra, she spoke softly, keeping my mind focused. Moment by moment, chakra by chakra, she spoke to me of: opening, releasing, allowing, and trusting in myself, “As you continue, know and trust that you already have the answer you are searching for, Amy.” This seemed so silly, almost patronizing in some aspects, but ultimately, it was what I needed to hear. A woman I had met only days prior, believed in my ability to overcome the deep sadness and depression I found myself in in that moment, believed that I was already doing it, unbeknownst to myself through trust and love. The essence of who “I” am, guided me through this hurt- it was not “me,” my ego/reality processor, but the whole self or essence of the being I am- from the beginning of this life, just simply, my true self had been obscured by my uncanny ability to weave stories around my identity and place judgments on it like a professional mean girl.

Jacques Lacan, a psychoanalyst and philosopher doing significant work in mid-twentieth century France, wrote in, “The Mirror Stage as Formative of the I,” that human beings encounter their separateness or “otherness” the moment they realize that they are a separate and unique being from their mothers; the narrative of their unique identity is created in the moment when the infant views him or her self head on in the mirror, seeing the reflection of themselves as suddenly separate and apart from the maternal source. This stage occurs, according to Lacan, between 8-16 months of age.

How young we are when our minds start weaving difficulties for us! Based on what Lacan wrote, one can infer that there is a moment, or series of moments, before each of us recognizes our separateness and uniqueness, where we are one, whole, a part of the beautiful fabric of the universe. From that moment when we envision our “I,” our stories,our separateness, or, rather, our egos, begin generating and fashioning the belief that we are not complete, that there is something to strive for, that we are not and never have been whole. As we continue our education through life, we negotiate the “person” we end up being, forever viewed by us a:s fractured, cracked, lacking, and constantly striving to reach the goal of returning to wholeness. Repeatedly we encounter failure, when the outcomes of our commitments do not meet the expectations we have set for them; “I worked so hard and did not get promoted;” “my boyfriend dumped me, and I thought he was the one;” “I just bought these jeans, and they’ve already gotten ripped!” This hurts us, because we see the end result as the priority. What is obscured in the process is that we already are whole- our self gets shrouded by the narrative we and those around us create, the illusion of drama that brings us to the ever chronic dialogue discussed above. The only way to begin the process of trusting and loving one’s self is to engage in an active and raw confrontation of the selfishness and fear inherent in each of us.

What happens if, we commit all of our energy to doing the process, whatever it is, and inso doing, encounter an awareness that the result is ancillary? Krsna explains to Arjuna, in Stephen Mitchell’s translation of The Bhagavad Gita, when Arjuna is faced with the inevitability of waging war against his family, fighting on both sides of the battlefield,

“[…]Abandoning all desires,

acting without craving, free

from all thoughts of “I” and “mine,”

that man finds inner peace 2.67-.71[…]

Do any actions you must do.

since action is better than inaction;

even the existence of your body

depends on necessary actions.

The whole world becomes a slave

to its own activity, Arjuna;

if you want to truly be free,

perform all actions as worship 3.7-.11 […]”

What is it we must do? When we sit down and make a list of all the things we do and why , the list and its reasonings are quite revealing. The reasons we do most of the things we do has more to do with expectations we and those around us set for ourselves- “someone is expecting me to bake that cake;” “I promised I would edit that paper,” or “my boss is expecting that I finish this project.”

What actions cultivate love and trust in ourselves? We know that working hard to get something has mixed results, that often, the result is not entirely the right thing for what we hoped; perhaps the method needs a fresh perspective. What happens if we detach ourselves from those expectations and simply focus on the task at hand? Separate the things you do for your survival and well-being from the things you do for your “ego’s” survival and well-being, and what is the result? What are the skin and bones must haves on our lists of things to do? How much of what you must do to survive and enhance your well-being cultivate love and trust? Whatever the answer to these questions are, if you give yourself the gift of a solid chunk of time to sit at a table with a piece of paper and pencil, to literally scrawl out every last possibility, perhaps the result will shine some light on the person “you” are and have always been.

Copyright 2012 Amy Hellman