I’ve been on a journey to heal and integrate everything last year’s trip of miracles and wonders awoke in me.

Healing from Complex Trauma is a journey, one that takes more time and goes in a meandering path that’s filled dead-ends and wrong turns. Yoga is my “multitool” on this journey. It not only keeps me on the path, but it gives me ways to shift my energy, soothe my anxiety, grow my self-understanding, and expand my ability to connect with others.

Last December I had the privilege and honor to train with Molly Lannon Kenny to offer Bedside Yoga for people at the end of life. Many people contributed to my online campaign to make it possible for me to go. I even had a little surplus that I was able to use this autumn to spend a few days in contemplative retreat with my community.

I was absolutely astounded my campaign was successful. I was immediately, profoundly connected to my struggle to see myself as worthy. Grateful and amazed, I experienced cognitive dissonance as the deeply held belief that I’m not worthy conflicted with the very tangible reality that many people find me worthy enough to make a financial commitment to my training!

I continued to struggle into spring, my anxiety beginning to creep back up. It culminated in a decision, made with my therapist, to go back into intensive trauma therapy; the work I’d done a few years ago seemed to be coming apart at the seams. In June I started doing Somatic Attachment-Focused EMDR, the SAFE model aims to help adults who have experience complex trauma. Using this approach we first identified that I have a deeply rooted false belief about myself that ultimately undermines me as an adult.

It isn’t an easy process. We go back to the earliest memories I have associated with my false belief and we work with them until they’re no longer triggering the false belief. Then we move to the next one. In the past 7 months we’ve installed 2 memories; these first ones are uncovering new experiences for me to integrate.

I’ve also been taking in the knowledge that my Mother more than likely had a personality disorder; something that happened because she herself had complex trauma. I’m realizing how intergenerational trauma undermines everything and everyone it touches. I understand that I needed to remove myself completely from my family to heal.

There’s been changes in my teaching schedule this year; I’m teaching fewer classes now. I’ve been using the additional time for healing and creating the foundation for the work I want to do with end-of-life care.

In the new year I’m looking forward to expanding my video offerings, including plans to improve my lighting! I’ll have more blog posts too, but look for more videos and a YouTube channel in the new year! If you haven’t yet, join my mailing list right here!

I was fortunate to get to travel with a friend from Portland and share some costs with. We spent Sunday evening and part of Monday in Puerto Vallarta, not nearly enough time to explore! I know I will want to return, with more time to wander at leisure through this vibrant town. Reminding me of the Kailua-Kona side of the Big Island and New Orleans, with a flair all it’s own, Puerto Vallarta is a place where everyone seems to go to have fun, locals as well as foreigners. Families with young children, hip trendsetters looking to get noticed, folks just there for a little sunshine & sand, and lots of older folks; everyone there to enjoy the views, the food, the music, the waves, and the sun.

We were there in the nine days leading up the the feast day of the Virgin of Guadalupe. This means a procession winds through town to the beautiful Church of Our Lady of Guadalupe every day; we waited on our way to the hotel for one. Fireworks can be expected to randomly go off, any time, night or day. People gather at the cathedral daily to pay their respects to the Virgin. I made a point to offer my thanks for a safe journey when I popped into the cool of the church for a moment to admire the interior.

In the afternoon we all gathered at the airport before heading to the private nature reserve and small resort, Punta Monterrey.  I enjoyed simple, wonderful meals in good company, and spent my nights listening to the sounds of the waves just steps from the doors of my little cottage. I was grateful for the abundant time to rest and integrate the work we were doing.

The training itself, with my teacher Molly Lannon Kenny, gave a boost to my skills, gaining more insight into working with medically fragile folks to provide support. I have started to reach out slowly to people about my plans to work in this area. Once I’ve begun sharing my intention to offer support around end-of-life care I’ve noted there’s no shortage of people around me who’ve recently experienced loss or are dealing with parents who are entering last stages with terminal illnesses. I’m letting the path to how I’ll do more of this work unfold over this year.

In between the deep work I was doing with my new friends in practice, there were moments of profound, and every day beauty that continue to nurture my soul. Moments like walking amidst butterflies after breakfast ever morning as they fluttered around the multitude of flowers growing in abundance everywhere. The sound of dragonflies in the evening as they hunted mosquitos while the sun set and the surf pounded. Then there was the unexpected wonder of seeing baby, Olive Ridley Sea Turtles on our last morning there, while making our way down to the beach for a final ritual together, making it feel all the more precious for the tiny miracles we’d just seen.

One, truly magical afternoon found our whole little group floating together in the ocean. This alone was such a moment of deep connection that my heart was full. Then we heard the whales.

Deep bass notes, clicks, whistles, and higher, violin-like refrains; a veritable choir singing as they traveled south together. In those moments, as small and fragile as I felt, floating on the vastness of the ocean, I felt myself resting in, and connected to, the Divine.

In the weeks that have followed, I’m realizing I’ve taken something else home from the retreat. I’m finding that the grief, and low of depression, I experience very strongly from November into February; hasn’t been as dark as it has felt in past years. It feels like some of the sharp edges of my own grief have been smoothed down, like a piece of rock tumbled against sand until it is polished agate. Something in the rhythm of the waves, the songs of the whales, and in the singing on the beach I did; it all seems to have made my own grief lighter to carry.

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice.
meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.

Be grateful for whatever comes.
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

— Jellaludin Rumi,
translation by Coleman Barks

I first learned about Mettā meditation when I practiced with a Zen Buddhist community. One of my teachers at that time, Jan Chozen Bays Roshi, believed that loving-kindness practice was the best thing you could turn to in any situation. Anxious for yourself, Mettā is the right choice. Anxious for someone else? Angry? Despair for a mass tragedy half a world away? Outrage and sorrow and children being shot in school? In all these situations, Chozen would remind us, Mettā is the right response.

 Mettā, loving-kindness from Pali, is considered one of the four sublime attitudes of an enlightened being, the Brahmavihāras, which also include compassion, empathetic joy and equanimity. Applying Mettā to our own lives helps us to treat ourselves and others with greater compassion. Starting from a place of self-care and friendliness within ourselves gives us the resources to offer compassion and love to all living beings.

While Mettā meditation is usually associated with Buddhist communities, it arises out of the rich tradition found in Vedic texts. The Upanishads discuss the virtue of Maitrī, also found alongside compassion, empathetic joy and equanimity, being the the first of the Four Immeasurables, the Apramāṇa. These become the Brahmavihāras in Buddhist practice. Practicing the virtue of Maitrī is also encouraged in Jain texts and was included by Patanjali in the Yoga Sutras.

Mettā gives focus to our natural responses and helps us to be soothed enough to respond more fully. If we find ourselves still unable to respond, we can use Mettā practice to hold ourselves gently rather than fall into negative self-judgement about our inability to somehow to rise to the occasion as we think we ought to.

How do do Mettā Meditation: 

For you practice you will find a comfortable, seated posture. I’ve also found this to be a rich practice to bring to walking meditation as well as something for my busy mind to do while I’m riding on public transportation, stuck in traffic, waiting in lines, etc.

You will do four rounds of offering Mettā.

1. For yourself.
2. For someone you care for (personal love).
3. For someone you feel neutral to (impersonal love).
4. For someone you have a difficult relationship with.

The phrases used during each round may vary and you can change things to suit your specific practice that moment. I personally use two phrases for most of my Mettā meditation practices.

May I be free from anxiety and fear.
May I be peaceful and happy*.

For the second round the “I” would change to the name of the person you care for. The third round you would identify the neutral person, e.g., “May the cashier at the market be free from anxiety and fear.” In the third round you would again use the name of the difficult person you are directing  to.

Chozen would remind us that some days that word “happy” feels too difficult to work with. Rather than berate ourselves for being unable to wish happiness to someone we perceive as doing great harm, we should instead change that wording to, “May that person be peaceful and content.”

I often like to end classes with an inclusive set of Mettā phrases:

May all living beings be free from anxiety and fear.
May all living beings be peaceful and content.

Mettā Variations:

There are lots of variations of these phrases, find or create ones that resonate for you. Here are some additional examples to consider.

From the Metta Institute: 

May I be happy.
May I be well.
May I be safe.
May I be peaceful and at ease.

From Buddhist teacher Jack Kornfield: 

May I be filled with lovingkindness.
May I be safe from inner and outer dangers.
May I be well in body and mind.
May I be at ease and happy.

A Traditional Tibetan Buddhist Prayer from Padmasambhava Buddhist Center:

May all beings have happiness and the cause of happiness.
May they be free of suffering and the cause of suffering.
May they never be disassociated from the supreme happiness which is without suffering.
May they remain in the boundless equanimity, free from both attachment to close ones and rejection of others.

I know, I’ve been one of them. I come from a family of body-obsessed dieters. I cannot even recall when I first began to diet with my Mother, but I’m sure I didn’t need to lose weight when I did it. As adolescence hit I hated my changing body and the attention it got. Once I went away to college I put on more weight. I kept putting it on until my early 30s, I felt more comfortable in my large body.

When I was diagnosed with Degenerative Disc Disease one of the first things I was told to consider was weight loss. At the time I was also receiving news that I had very high cholesterol and I’m from a family where heart disease and strokes mortally affect the women. So I set about to lose weight like I was told to.

At first it was easy, I had decided to become vegan as part of both my yoga practice, particularly when I became a teacher and wanted to find ways to really live my practice, and my deepening practice in a Buddhist community. That dietary change had dramatic, entirely unexpected, benefits to my health. My cholesterol dropped by over 100 points and the ratios were now ideal. My allergies improved noticeably and I stopped having sinus infections, leading to lung infections, multiple times a year. I lost 100 pounds with ease.

My back pain didn’t improve.

Then it stopped being easy and I really wanted to get back down to a size I was when I was at 18. At time point my physician wasn’t encouraging weight loss any longer, my change was profound and more than hoped for. I was the one who kept pushing, falling prey to the constant dieting I’d done throughout adolescence. When the loss slowed down I turned it into a project.

I used multiple websites, and eventually apps for my phone as well, to meticulously track every calorie in and out in my day. I rigorously kept under 1500 calories a day while pursuing an increasingly vigorous yoga practice. After two years in that mode I’d lost 50 more pounds and was down to a Size 8. I’d made it.

My back pain never was changed by weight loss. Yoga remains the single most beneficial tool in managing my pain.

In the past 10 years since I made that goal I’ve regained 40 pounds. Given that most people gain back all of what they lost and more, I’ve done really well. I’m about the size I was when I left college, Size 14.

This January came around and I felt the siren song of weight loss. I could do it again. I have bins of too small clothing I’m saving for when I drop that weight again. I could devote most of my free time to obsessively tracking calories again, becoming an internal bully to not eat more calories than I am “allowed”, and constantly avoiding social engagements where people might comment on my not eating. I can turn it into a project and do it again, “It is only 40 pounds this time!!”, sings the song.

A lot has changed though. In becoming an Integrated Movement Therapist I’ve become devoted to helping people cultivate friendship with their bodies. I interrupt my students fixating on weight and body size as being linked to actual health, reminding them that healthy has a variety of shapes and sizes.

It really hit me this January that I simply cannot tell my students that weight is not an indicator of health when I am spending all my time obsessing over calories and how to push myself to lose those 40 pounds again. While I can teach postures I cannot do myself, I cannot teach people to see themselves and whole and complete, just as they are, when I’m bullying myself into weight loss.

My body has seen me through some truly hellacious experiences. Despite being in chronic pain, my body moves me trough teaching 5-6 days a week. I have to be careful. mindful of my body more now, approaching 50 years of age and having lived in chronic pain for 18 years, but my body still supports me doing so many things. So this year, for the first time in decades, I’m resolving to love and appreciate my body, just as it is.

My body isn’t a problem, it isn’t a project to be managed and solved.

The focus on generosity as an act of material giving leaves out a variety of opportunities to practice generosity. We can be generous with our time, from volunteering our time to taking a moment to listen to a friend who needs a kind ear. We can be generous when we choose to be compassionate and patient instead of giving into frustration when we deal with irritations we run into from day-to-day. We can choose to treat ourselves with kindness instead of listening to negative self-judgement.

This month, I’m particularly getting to practice with that last one as I address some long overdue dental work. I’ve had some pretty terrible experiences with dentists in the past, including being repeatedly shamed for having anxiety. I also have an intersection of childhood trauma and dental work that makes the having dental treatment tremendously difficult for me. At the beginning of the month I had the whole 3.5 hour experience of having full x-rays taken, major cleaning, and an exam. It was exhausting and my tender gums are still not wanting anything crunchy in my mouth.

After that, relatively endurable experience, and in order to really maximize the meager dental insurance benefit I have, I scheduled two crowns to be done the week before Christmas. That turned into a root canal, my first ever, followed by the crown later in the week. This means I’ve another crown, the dentist suspects a second root canal too, to plan in 2018. I also have a tooth with what look like an unusual, in that it is in a straight line, pattern of decay, that will be evaluated in mid-January by a specialist as it may well need removal and an implant. I’m trying to take this in stride and be both vocal, consistent, and transparent with my new oral care-providers; making sure they know exactly how I am doing with appointments, during and afterward, and just how severe my dental anxiety is, and why.

With this added load of anxiety this month I’ve been focusing on keeping my energy up so I can teach my classes and connect with people I love. While teaching is tiring, it helps me to feel grounded and balanced; connecting with my students and clients truly lifts my spirits as well. I’m continuing to practice telling people I’m grateful instead of apologizing for what I see as personal failings, something I wrote about last month. I’m using my mindfulness practice to catch when anxiety is steering me into the dangerous shoals of negative self-judgement and shame, instead finding what might soothe my energy in that moment. I’m taking anxiety medication without getting caught up on some idea that I should be better at all this already; accepting that not everything can be “yoga’d” away, yet.

On Christmas Eve a storm arrived in the morning and we spent the day watching ice form on the plants and roads. We hunkered down, made lasagna together, and enjoyed one another’s company. We’re starting to invite people over again, but also keeping things a little smaller and more simple. Our New Year’s Eve was spent having dinner together and trying to stay up until midnight. We danced with the dogs wth the music on loud, so as to drown out the fireworks people were setting off, then went to bed.

Looking forward to exploring more posts, more pictures of yoga, and podcasts in the coming year. I’ll personally be making more art and committing to the hard work to dismantle the shame I have around money and my body.

Sometimes an apology is right on. I forget to take care of something, that’s a good time to apologize with sincerity. However, sometimes we fall into the habit of apologizing for ourselves when we could be focusing on our gratitude for someone instead.

I seriously love this idea. First of all, it refocuses a situation on the positive, being grateful. Instead of jumping to apologize, focusing on perceived negative behavior, move towards gratitude. It also calls people into awareness of their own kind behavior, it creates a connection around gratitude. Someone might not even think they’re doing anything special by listening to you try to talk through a problem, but they are and it is so much better to thank them for their kind attention and perspecitve than to apologizing for “rambling”.

This resonates with me so much since I tend to jump to apologies for what I perceive as my “failing” somehow. This response was habituated through years of interactions with my abusive Mother, toxic family, and a couple of deeply dysfunctional relationships in my 20s and 30s. Getting into negative self-judgement goes hand-in-hand with the apologizing; I’m always looking for my faults. As a child I learned it was easier to call attention to myself, point out the negative judgement first, rather than be caught off guard by a family member. Having an unpredictable, abusive parent also meant that I often apologized even if I’d not done anything wrong, apologies soothed my Mother.

The whole idea of choosing not to apologize, and instead choose connecting with another person through gratitude, feels a little radical to me. My initial response is to wonder what the other person is going to think if I don’t call out my error? Are they going to think I don’t care if I don’t apologize?

On Monday morning I was given the perfect opportunity to test out this new approach. I was late to teach my morning class. I was moving slowly that morning and had a headache. There had also been a serious traffic incident that closed the interstate near my home, the way I go to teach. I made my circuitous way in to teach, feeling grateful that at least the room would be unlocked and the props out already.

It was a great plan, but it turned out the class before mine had been cancelled and everything was locked up. My students were all milling around in the lobby! I got the key, unlocked everything, and got the yoga props out. As I took the key back to the office, I called over my shoulder, “Thanks for waiting for me!”.

When we’d all sat down for our Yoga in Chairs class I thanked everyone for their patience and good humor on a morning that felt harried and off the track already! I received gracious reassurance that everyone was glad I’d arrived safely and it wasn’t that late!

What a shift that was! Instead of stewing in my own negative self-judgement for not leaving earlier and being late, I was basking in the compassion and generosity of my students.

I shared with them all what I’d read and challenged them to give it a try in their own lives; replacing apologies for gratitude. Some students shared that they appreciated having my gratitude, that it just felt better than the usual, “I’m sorry I’m late!” It felt like we made a connection.

Like all gratitude practices, we make a mindful choice to choose gratitude. We’re always looking for what we’re grateful for in each moment, there’s nearly always something. We’re choosing connection through gratitude instead of apologies rooted in negative self-judgement.

I was feeling good about my plans for talking about gratitude practice this month, then along came a week that pulled the emotional rug out from beneath me. November kicks off several painful anniversaries, including my Mother’s death, coming up on 3 years ago, on November 24th. My biological Father died in 2001 on November 9th. My Dad, my step-father, died in early December 2000. Needless to say, this isn’t the easiest time of year for me. The darker, longer days and the autumn time change don’t help either, but these significant losses all crowded together have overshadowed winter for me for a a few years now.

My Mother’s death came as I was just beginning my training in Integrated Movement Therapy. This is really the first year I’ve not had the distraction of homework and meetings with my mentor to distract me from the grief and depression that comes up for me. At the very beginning of the month I’d felt like I was doing just fine, then I had an unsettling dream about my Mother and this week’s seen my energy level slide down low.

My yoga practice has helped me to be much more aware of the dramatic energy shifts that accompany my anxiety and my depression, both of which arise from CPTSD. I’ve been watching this week’s low and mindfully choosing self-kindness, which is challenging. When my energy sinks, either due to depression or having a physical illness, I tend to fall into harsh self-judgement. It takes effort to focus on what I’m doing well when my energy is low. These are exactly the times when gratitude practice really counts.

I have been establishing a regular, written gratitude practice. However, when my energy sinks I’m often left feeling unmotivated to write, really unmotivated to do much of anything, which is why this weekly post arrives at the end of the week. Despite my apathy about writing this week, I’ve taken time to create pages in my artist’s journal. I’ve also been including gratitude practice as part of my daily meditation, I pick one thing (person) I’m feeling grateful for and really focus on it for a few minutes, going over all the reasons I feel grateful. I’m also mindfully stopping myself throughout each day and just noting what I’m grateful for in any given moment.

As I’ve stuck with including gratitude practice in my daily life I’ve found really in every situation there’s something I can feel grateful for. Even in a situation where my anxiety is very high, something I experienced on Wednesday this week. Using gratitude I was still able to stay present despite my heart pounding and feeling deeply uncomfortable. I combined it with the suggestion from my therapist to notice what things help me feel safe; I’d take those things that helped me and then reflect upon my gratitude for them.

Gratitude practice can look like a lot of different things. I like to concentrate on a single thing I’m grateful for and really focus on all the details about why I’m grateful for that item or person. Dr. Robert Emmons, who has studied gratitude practices at the UC Davis, has noted that reflecting on details adds a lot of value. His studies also found we tend to get an even greater benefit from reflecting upon times we are surprised by something we’re grateful for.

A gratitude practice I like to use with students is to focus on a frustration, focus it on your hand and close up your fist up around this thing that is unsettling us. Then, one finger at a time, open your hand as you count off five things you feel grateful for. We release then tension of our hand through reflecting upon gratitude.

You might simply enough literally count your blessings by making a gratitude list on whatever paper comes to hand, or just make your list in your mind. I often begin my day reflecting upon all the blessings I have: I awake in a warm, comfortable bed, in a home with hot & cold running water, with food to break my fast. I sometimes find that on days when I wake up with low, depressed energy this simple pause to reflect on these blessings lifts my spirits and helps me get my day going.

Meaning: benevolence, friendliness, amity, kindness, good-will, and an active interest in the well-being of others.

Metta is considered one of the sublime attitudes of an enlightened being, the first of the Four Immeasurables, Brahmavihāras (“Divine Abodes”), which also include: compassion (Karuṇā), empathetic joy (Muditā), and equanimity (Upekkhā). While Metta meditation practice is often associated in Buddhist communities, the first mention of practicing with kindness appears in the Chandogya Upanishad, one of the oldest of the Upanishads, found within the Samaveda.

Further, the Brahmavihāras also appear in The Yoga Sutras of Patañjali as a guide on relationships with others:

*1.33 In relationships, the mind becomes purified by cultivating feelings of friendliness towards those who are happy, compassion for those who are suffering, goodwill towards those who are virtuous, and indifference or neutrality towards those we perceive as wicked or evil.

(maitri karuna mudita upekshanam sukha duhka punya apunya vishayanam bhavanatah chitta prasadanam)

Metta Meditation has been a part of my practice for many years. It helps me to settle anxiety, calm busy thoughts, and ease the times I find myself caught up in negative self-judgement. Metta is a perfect response when I feel helpless to help in a situation; when I cannot assist directly I can at least send loving-kindness to those suffering. When Chozen Bays, Roshi, was still my teacher she would say that Metta is the only tool you need in any situation.

Metta meditation practice is done as a set of phrases you repeat mentally or aloud, often with the breath. I was taught to repeat each phrase on an exhale.

The phrases are repeated in four rounds. The first round is to generate loving-kindness for the self. This is quite literally a meditation example of “putting on your own oxygen mask first”; you make sure you’re ready to offer Metta to others before proceeding.

Second, you offer loving-kindness to a person you are fond of. Third, you consider someone you feel neutral for; the cashier that helped you at the grocery store, for example. For the fourth round you focus loving-kindness on a person you have difficulty with; letting us practice offering goodwill despite having negative feelings about a person.

There are many different suggestions for scripts to use for the phrases. Some are more detailed, for example these from Jack Kornfield:

May all beings have happiness and the cause of happiness.
May they be free of suffering and the cause of suffering.
May they never be disassociated from the supreme happiness which is without suffering.
May they remain in the boundless equanimity, free from both attachment to close ones and rejection of others.

Another of my Zen teachers, Hogen Bays, would use only two phrases. It is this more simple approach I’ve continued to practice with over the years. The phrases I use in my practice now are:

May I be free from anxiety and fear.
May I be peaceful and happy.

That word “Happy” can catch people. Some days we don’t feel ready for happy or ready to wish some people happiness. Rather than judging ourselves harshly for struggling over a word, we can chose to use the word “Content” instead. As Chozen Bays noted during the loving-kindness retreat I attended, contentment really is happiness after all.

Through the process of deepening my own practice with Metta, I began thinking about how to incorporate this practice in healing myself. While having a practice that lets us open our heart to the world is deeply beneficial, this practice can be used as a way to reconnect with the body. I began incorporating it while teaching yoga movement to help students manage the negative self-judgement that arrises, to help heal the relationship with the body directly.

As I started to explore applying the phrases of Metta to my chronic pain, to the toxic messages I absorbed as a child, and to the abuse and sexual trauma I’d experienced across the early years of my life, I experienced a growing comfort with my body, my back pain, and with my trauma history. Turning Metta inward opened it up for me, offering me insight for my own healing and in my work with others.

Some of us live with a condition that causes chronic physical pain and creates limitations; we can offer loving-kindness for a body that works especially hard. Using the lens of Metta we look deeply at the physical pain the body experiences; offering tenderness instead of flinching away from discomfort.

Many of us were taught to judge our bodies or how we view the world harshly, we need a way to temper the voice of the Inner Critic or the felt sense of unease and unhappiness held in the body. Metta provides space to be curious about our bodies and our insight into the world, instead of critical.

For those of us who’ve experienced the violation of our bodily integrity through abuse, sexual trauma, or domestic violence, Metta can offer a way to befriend the body again. We can cultivate loving-kindness for the very anxiety, fear, and anger we still experience, held in our bodies.

In doing this work to befriend the body, I’ve changed the phrases I use. Instead of offering the energy outwards to others, the loving-kindness energy is sent inwards, directly to the body.

May I be free from the anxiety and fear I have about my body (I feel in my body).
May I feel peaceful and happy about my body.

It can be tough to offer yourself loving-kindness. When I first started this practice I found it so difficult to offer it to myself that I worked my way around to it, offering it to everyone else ahead of me as a kind of warm-up! Chozen would advise me to picture myself as a small child. Hogen even suggested visualizing myself as a tiny kitten, so in need of love.

During some meditation sessions, instead of offering myself Metta, I’d find myself disassociated from the present moment. My struggles with offering myself loving-kindness opened my eyes to the depth of trauma I’d experienced from my family of origin. This was part of the impetus to begin work with a therapist who specialized in trauma recovery and used EMDR, which really set me upon the path to healing.

I still struggle with shame. I’ve come to realize shame underlies most of my anxiety and all of my negative self-judgement. When I’m deep in a struggle with shame I am certain that I don’t deserve loving-kindness. Of course, that’s exactly when I need it most.

I’ve learned to respond to those shame messages as a signal to stop and do Metta meditation, as soon as I can. I’ve sat and meditated in all kinds of places, including a bathroom stall! I recognize that I need to turn down the toxic messages that can still bubble up from the past before they overwhelm me, so any place is a good place for Metta practice!

The more we befriend our body, treat it like a treasure and an ally, the more resources we have for healing ourselves and others. The more curiosity we can have for those things like fear, anger, and pain, the more spaciousness we will have around those experiences, rather than being overwhelmed by them. Metta practice is a valuable tool for this journey, may it help us all to find peace.

May our practice together be meaningful.
May our practice together bear fruit.
May the fruits of our practice benefit others.

Metta Prayer;
for Everyone Who’s Been Abused

May we be
Freed from
The misery
Of shame.

May we
Be released
From the thought
That somehow
It was our fault.

May we
Rest in the
Truth that we
Never did
Anything
Wrong.

May the too many
Who’ve experienced
Abuse in any way
Be free from
Anxiety and fear.

May we all
Be peaceful.

May we all
Be happy.

*Thanks to Swami J for the translation of the Yoga Sutras.

A year ago it was #NotOK, although this year it seems an even greater number of people are responding. I am sad, but not terribly surprised to see the number of people coming forward to share what they’ve lived through. Tarana Burke, who created the #MeToo movement, noted on Twitter that 1.7 million people in 85 different countries have responded to this movement across social media.

If there are so many of us, then how do we begin to help one another heal? How do we begin to dismantle a system that not only enables rape culture, but at times seems to revel in it? A system that protects, sometimes rewards serial abusers, while calling those brave enough to speak of the trauma they experienced liars.

At times this task seems so monumental that it feels impossible to do anything more than offer comfort, sympathy, and warnings about which predatory men to avoid.

Discovering yoga in 2003 changed my life. I began practicing because it was the only thing that helped with the pain from degenerative disc disease in the bottom of my spine. I’d been diagnosed in 2000, with my three lowest lumbar vertebrae affected. By the time I tried yoga, even swimming was causing me pain.

Becoming a teacher in 2005 deepened my yoga practice enormously. Over the years yoga has changed from being the tool to help me manage chronic physical pain. It is still how I help manage my back pain, but now it also helps me manage the anxiety and depression that arise out of living with complex PTSD. My practice informs my daily living in ways I would have never expected when I anxiously went to my first class with lots of other people who’d made resolutions to move more in the New Year.

My practice is what sustains me as I continue to move into acknowledging the trauma I’ve experienced and finding the strength to not turn away from the truth. It is the tool that is helping me learn how to step outside of the shame I struggle with.

Now my yoga practice is what has lead me to join in the voices that say “Me too.”

I am here and ready to offer my knowledge and my heart to help others heal, to work together to find tools to soothe and restore us, and to dismantle the belief that we are broken by what we’ve experienced. Instead that wounding, I’ll share the knowledge that we’re all already whole and complete, just as we are.