I am worthy. I am worthy. I am worthy. That was the intention that I set for myself recently while lying still in a yoga nidra session. Such an intention may seem odd, but lately as I find myself constantly assaulted by life, I have found myself going back to that inner place where the chants are loud and clear. “You aren’t worthy.” “No one will pay to hear that.” “You aren’t a good writer, people are just stroking you.” “Your career success has all been a fluke.” You get the idea. A regular chorus of doubt triggered by some very real and serious situations, that aren’t in my head.
Professionally, I am at a crossroads, my agency is in deep doo-doo and for the first time in four years I don’t have the answers. However if the answers don’t come to me and come soon, not only will I be out of a job but so will three other folks. The biggest losers though will be the families and kids that are served by my agency, if our doors close, kids who were already near the cracks, may completely fall in. I have been tossing and turning ever since I realized how serious this situation is and if things weren’t already bad, if a miracle doesn’t happen by April 15, my ass is grass. I walked in faith that helping my Dad out financially when he was sick was the right thing to do and morally it was the right thing. The problem is that the money that I used to help him; was my tax money. Despite my most valiant attempts to pick up extra work to make up for the help aka the money I extended to him, all my efforts have turned up is a steaming hot plate of frustration and offers to work for free. (Duh…why would I do that?)
It seems when you are already on a payment plan with the tax man, he’s just not herefor excuses. Sometimes shit happens and happens and not even the good stuff will make the shit stop.
Then when I was at my already lowest point, trying to figure out if I should just become an electronic panhandler (just can’t bring myself to do that, but I will be say if you know of any publications looking for freelancers or want to throw some change in the tip jar, leads and tips are greatly appreciated it). My allergies decided to go out of control in a way that they haven’t in several years. Walking around feeling like a brick is attached to your head when you are already taking a slew of allergy meds just sucks. It seems the dust and dander factor is out of control in my corner of the world. Gee, I am sensing a theme here…out of control.
Yet the final straw, the final kick in the ass, the final assault was that this weekend was the second out of four of my yoga immersion weekends. To be honest, I just wasn’t feeling it this weekend and instead of trusting my gut and just not going despite the logistical inconvenience (remember my goal is to eventually get to 200 hours) I went and it was just blah. You would think by now that I know myself well enough to know when I need to pull the plug and regroup but I allowed my ego to take over. Instead, I went for the first two days and was only half present and ended up feeling rather resentful of something that I really enjoy. Not a great feeling. But made worse when I found myself questioning why the hell I even am bothering with this yoga stuff. I am fat, I am Black, I am working class…blah, blah, blah. All reasons that I shouldn’t even be wasting my time. Just as the private pity party was in full swing, I had a quiet moment where I just sat and watched the gremlins of doubt attempt to take over all that I have worked hard to achieve.
Rather than chase the gremlins away, I have allowed them to have a say and now I am having a say. I am worthy. I am worthy. I am worthy. As someone who replied to the not so private portion of my pity party said, “Sometimes honoring the divinity within yourself is honoring the frailty of the vessel it sits within.” I do have a lot on my plate, no doubt life is a bit harrowing at the moment but I am worthy of all goodness and abundance, so shoo gremlins of doubt and pain, shoo.