Journaling: Writing / Righting It Out

Last week, I was fortunate to experience the gift of a custom-made crisis.

I found myself tied up in knots, constricted by a story about my vacation plans falling apart, combined with a sub-plot involving poverty consciousness. For days, I was stuck in a cycle of negativity and confusion. I didn’t recognize my bondage, therefore I couldn’t liberate myself. Thankfully, I stumbled into the realization with the help of a pad of paper and a pen.

That day, I came home from work disgruntled. Did I want to do yoga? Did I want to take a walk? Where? It was so beautiful, the perfect fall day after months of heat. I “should” go outside. But shouldn’t I be doing something else? On and on, annoyed, irritated. I was so overwhelmed by choices that I couldn’t make one—about today's activity or next week's vacation. Worse part was that I didn’t even know it. I did end up on the yoga mat, outside in the glorious evening. But before yoga, I grabbed the paper and pen, and started spewing my confusion onto the page. I was writing / righting it out.

I’m going to suck it up and share the journal entry below, to demonstrate how it works. This is a milder version of a “crisis” journal entry, compared to my earlier efforts from years ago. Those olden entries could go on for four pages or more, single-spaced, spewing emotional toxic waste in the valuable process.

Writing can clarify misunderstandings and correct negativity, as an effective method for self-study (Svadhyaya, in Sanskrit). It can be hard to sit down and write. It's natural to avoid the unpleasant, even when it inhabits us and becomes the experience of us. Fear is part of confusion, and it’s scary to face fear. But the words will lead to insight. The burden will be lifted. The reward for facing fear is freedom, in the one moment that matters. And that is why constriction, confusion, and suffering are gifts to be unpacked.

In the Yoga Sutras by Patanjali, the sage notes that “The union of the Owner (Purusha) and the owned (Prakriti) causes the recognition of the nature and powers of them both. The cause of this union is ignorance. Without this ignorance, no such union occurs. This is the independence of the Seer.” (Book 2, verse 23-25, in the translation by Sri Swami Satchidananda).

In other words, our ignorance (that which makes us uncomfortable and unhappy) leads us to the “Owner,” the “Seer,” so that we may unite with Supreme Being.

Before I get to the journal entry, here’s a sweet story to share: That night of my journal entry, I was tied up about where, when, and how I was going on vacation the next week. It was a dark and heavy cloud, one in which I kept cycling between options, pros and cons, money stories, etc. Through the power of journaling, I released the anxiety and remembered Open. The next morning, my mind, body, and nervous system wanted to drift back into the habit of constriction around the story. I practiced Open, as remembered the night before. As I sat writing my morning journal, I looked around the living room, and discovered tiny rainbows fluttering around the entire space—the floors, the walls, the ceilings, all pulsing with rainbows. I’ve had plastic beads hanging in the window for years and have never seen this display. The sun hit it just right. While the beads appeared to be hanging still, there was enough subtle movement to make the room come alive. It was the perfect reminder: it doesn’t matter where or when I go anywhere. It matters how. And I want to roam this world wide open. In this humdrum room, where I write my morning journal every day, an astonishing treat was received.

BTW, my impractical and expensive trip did get cancelled. Instead, I ended up spending six days in a lovely home on the Carolina shore. For free. I’m staring at the Atlantic ocean as I type these words. As always, freedom is its own reward. Grateful.

Okay, here goes (warning: offensive language and drug references)

September 13, 2022

Top ten greatest mental hits are playing, triggered by this vacation turmoil on top of the expensive car repair I just completed. Do I go, risk it, live life, see new things, have an adventure, buy legal pot? I’ve been bragging about this adventure for weeks, and legit excited. People impressed and admiring that I would undertake such a trip alone. But both my cars are wrecks. So I’m cycling through this gloomy, frustrating, negative loop, constrained by choices: Do I go and live on the edge with a shit car? Be brave? Just do it? And if I do it that way, should I do it on the cheap and just camp? Fuck it! I’ve got a tent, I could do it. But I’m a 59-year-old woman, I need to go as a 59-year-old woman with safe rental wheels, comfortable, just live a little and spend the 2 grand. I’ve got it, and more. And then I think no, I could do x, y, or z and spend less money and have a relaxing week at home. Boring! Same old, same old. But it would be fine. I could clean out my closet. I could have a “cleansing” week at home. But I do “cleansings” for weeks on end at home, so fucking what? As I write, I feel all the energy of these ideas, thoughts, emotions revving around in my body and mind, and really, in my heart. It feels like I'm caught up in an electrical storm of static. My heart is sore, and my mind is cycling in confusion. I’m stuck in this confusion about which choice is better/worse, right/wrong. I’m clinging to a misunderstanding that there is a “best” decision and if I don’t make the right one, I’m fucked. And I’ve got this imaginary story about the Michigan experience, but it’s all in my head. I could go to all this trouble and just be conflicted and tortured in Michigan instead of here. "Did I do the right thing""Should I be spending this money?" On and on. If I can’t figure out how to be here, then it doesn’t matter where I go and what I do. All that matters is the quality of the experience. This moment right here. How I’m doing it? Pretty shitty, til now. And I wonder if the experience of the heart or “spiritual” is really the nervous system. Right now, after a little pot, a little breathing, a little writing, I realize none of it matters. The only thing that matters is an open heart, mind, body. A calm nervous system. If I’m not engaged here and now, fully, actively, willingly, OPENLY, then I’m nowhere. It doesn’t matter if I drive my shit car to Michigan or break down on the side of a road or lounge in luxury and blow every penny I have. If I’m not here in it, what does it matter? Phew. Calming. Opening. Breathing. Returning. I give myself permission to no longer give a fuck. Let next week's moments take care of themselves. Now to consider logically, if possible. Fact: Neither of my cars may be able to get me across town. Driving one of them to Michigan is out of the question. I have decisions to make, and the first thing I could do (after yoga and everything else I wanna, need to do), is look up the expense of a car rental. I don’t need to assume a mountain of anxiety at the idea of investigating the cost. I can just investigate with curiosity, and no vested interest. Oh and I’m so thankful to B. When I told him of my plan to drive my car to MI, he said, “That’s a bad idea.” And then he seemed to go on a quick tangent and told me about 3 people in his group that died in the past few months, one very suddenly. I’m so grateful he reminded me of death. Sure does snap you out of it. And the pot helps, shining a spotlight on the internal experience. And now, I’m doing yoga and that will help. If I know yoga.

Breaktime. I see how I cling to these stories, studying these stories that are 100 % in my imagination. Rolling them over and over, fixated, examining what is the “best” solution, among a bunch of imagined options. There is none. It sincerely does not matter, certainly not if this is my last moment on planet Earth. I want to be here for it, not all confused and fixated on the external, which can only be viewed through veils of emotion, agitation, and stories that are not real or true. I want as few veils as possible. I want as thin a shell as possible. I want no shield to come between me and Wisdom. That is my goal, my inspiration. Yes, I want to travel. But wherever I am, I aspire to be fully there. Here. Meanwhile, I can only be fully here now. No point in creating and sustaining more veils. What a burden released. I was tied up and fucked up and enslaved by these stories, and even if it’s just this one moment of Open, it fills me to perfection. I’m at peace. Finally at ease again. I'm home. And back to the story, in a more practical, less emotional way. Step one: look up the price of a rental car. Step 2: cancel the room in Traverse City, based on the results from step 1. And that’s it. Back to yoga and a sweet easy evening on the mat and off.