Vision for life

One of the most surprising things that has happened since I started writing this blog, is that the more I become open to the idea of being present and mindful with the most challenging moments of my day, the more amazing experiences seem to resurface precisely from those areas of my life that I find most difficult to accept and enjoy.

Eyesight is one of such areas in my life and I had a very powerful example of transforming this challenge into something beautiful at my last natural vision improvement class. We had a guided meditation exercise which involved us physically walking forwards and backwards on a line drawn on the floor which represented our life. The goal was to move between the future (the moment when clear vision is achieved) and the past (the moment when we consciously or not made the decision not to see the world around us clearly), and meet with our future and past selves to gain insights for clear vision and release blocks holding us back against it. All of this was done with a support of a guide that helped each one of us along the way by being a present witnesses of this process.

This is what the moment of when I see with total clarity looked like. 

   My future version is so happy, free and smiley. I have a healthy body, great posture without any tension, straight back and clear vision. I hold my head in a relaxed but well-aligned way. I receive compliments about how healthy and sparkly my eyes appear. I have even more confidence in the magical powers of my body. Yoga continues to be among my daily routines and rituals. My movements are flowing. I am so content with everything that I have been able to learn through the process, and it is wonderful to be able to share this story with others to inspire them to improve their vision. I feel even more open to what is possible because I have arrived at something that many say is impossible to achieve. My family and close friends are proud of the changes they see in me. I am also proud of what I have achieved. I spend less time working in front of the computer and I am doing something that I absolutely adore. My work is very creative and engages my mind and my hands. I continue to enjoy writing. I smile a lot and I see the world with curiosity. I can see faces clearly and I am surrounded by people that I enjoy my time with. I am open to strangers approaching me as I no longer have the fear of misunderstanding their expressions. I am open, attentive and connected to everyone that I engage with. There is a lot of warm physical contact. I am one of those people that I myself love to meet who make you happy the instant you get to know them. It seems like I have always been that way, but my own insecurities did not let me see it. There is an ease and comfort in how I relate to the world and that feels great. Even simple daily tasks like cooking or reading are more enjoyable. I feel more present and connected with all that surrounds me. Moments of introspection and introversion are there for me to enjoy when I choose them but there is no need to hide in them from perceived insecurity, noise or nuisance of the world. It is easy for me to make decisions. It is also easy to talk to others about the self-imposed limits that we set ourselves, because I have positive personal experiences of changing that. I still live in Spain and continue enjoying the abundance of sunshine. I am wearing light feminine summer clothes and I feel the wind gently combing through my long hair. 

During the meditative journey to the past, here is what I saw when I returned to the moment of when the clarity of my vision was disrupted. 

   I am six and I am sitting on my parents' bed in their bedroom. There is an electronic clock with bright blue-green numbers in front of me (this clock was made by my father who is an engineer). The room is full of bookshelves stuffed with books. I am alone at home and will need to leave for school in 20 minutes. I am reading. I have been able to read since I was 3.5 and I already hold a library membership card. I can read really really well and I would love to be able to spend the day doing that. I am spending the remaining minutes before school competing with myself - how fast I can finish a page or a line.  I am aware that the numbers on the bright clock in front of me a not perfectly clear. Not as clear as the pages that I am reading. I do not want to go to school as I would prefer to stay at home and keep reading. I find the desk uncomfortable at school and the teacher is constantly nagging me about my posture. She says girls should keep their legs together rather than sticking one out of the desk like I do. I do not see the blackboard very well. I am not sure that I want to. I find the learning process boring and stiff. Even our break time is timed and controlled. I also feel like I need to prove something to someone. Maybe to the teacher, so that she would stop commenting about how I sit. I can impress others with how well I read. I adore handwriting and find my eyes glued to the point where the nib touches the paper. I am aware it feels like a present moment because there are letters that have already happened and blank lines is where the future text will appear. I like tasks that involve looking nearby and that I can do at my own pace. I do not like doing things I do not want to do and that happens a lot at school. 

The next step of the guided meditation process was to examine whether in that moment when the vision was disrupted we truly had a choice about our circumstances, and whether there was really anything else that we could have done instead. The key point was to be open to the possibility that everything happened the way it had to happen and that nobody is to blame for it. It's beautiful to see it this way. I do not know now whether in a different country at a different time with an alternative schooling option I would have had the same experiences. Probably not. I probably would have thrived as an eager learner and would have engaged with learning in a joyful and more relaxed way. But in this particular timeline it did not happen. My parents made the best decision they could make. And I made the best decision I could make - to keep myself safe and cocooned in a world that is less edgy and less strictly defined. 

The key puzzle piece in all of this is accepting that perhaps the past versions of ourselves did not have the same wisdom, resources and understanding that we have now, in the present moment. So even if I would not necessarily make the same - conscious or unconscious - decision now, as a child, I did not have the same insights that I have now. During the guided meditation we were asked to think about what these resources were for us and return to those situations in our lives where they were gained. For me, the key three strengths that I now have as an adult are 1) greater awareness that everything is well in each moment when we are fully present; 2) realization that inner peace about who I am releases outer pressures and tensions (when I feel peaceful the world is peaceful around me); 3) the knowing that through my thoughts and reactions I create my own version of reality. 

The most powerful part of the meditation for me before returning to the present moment was going back to face the past version of myself and imagining giving myself as a gift those key strengths or resources that I now have. This meditative moment of my adult self meeting my inner child self will stay with me as one of the most magical experiences I have ever had. Seen from the eyes of an adult - here I am this tiny little 6 year old girl - so absolutely beautiful and perfect in every way. I am amazed at my own drive, eagerness to learn and desire to succeed at such a young age. I am absolutely overwhelmed with love and affection. I stoop down to her eye level and give her the biggest hug. The possibility to see my adult self through the eyes of my 6-year-old self was equally incredible. Here I am, so grown up and so perfect, the way nice aunties appear on their wedding day. I stare at myself with utter admiration and some shyness because I really want to be comforted and held by this woman. And then she hugs me. In all the versions of myself (including the one doing the exercise) I had tears streaming down my face.

As the two versions of ourselves converged and the meditation came to the close, I was left with a feeling of huge release and of knowing that both the past and the future can change and do change when we place our awareness and attention on where they merge - the present - or the point of where the nib touches the paper and where the story is still taking shape. Or as my beloved author Terry Pratchett puts it:

“(...) the universe is, instant by instant, re-created anew. Therefore (...) there is, in truth, no Past, only a memory of the Past. Blink your eyes, and the world you see next did not exist when you closed them. Therefore (...) the only appropriate state of the mind is surprise. The only appropriate state of the heart is joy. The sky you see now, you have never seen before. The perfect moment is now. Be glad of it.” ― Terry Pratchett

Family matters

I knew that I wanted the next topic of this blog to be about our family but I really needed time to let it sink in. Even on the day when I became aware of the weekly deadline of 'I have to write' building up, a little note on my favourite Yogi tea said 'Let things come to you', so I decided not to rush with this. 

The following quote kept returning to my mind and resonating with me throughout the week:

"Any time a baby is born to a family, the freshness of his perspective is added to the chain of consciousness of the family and the potential for great evolution is gifted to the family. I like to think of heritage like a painting that someone began long time ago. Each new member of the family comes to amend the painting as it progresses towards the masterpiece that it is to become." Teal Swan

This felt so real to me, especially at this beautiful time in our lives when we are preparing for a new baby to join our family. Also, I had a rare pleasure of spending over a week with my mom. We indulged in various combinations of walks in the mountains with Pepe the dog, eating tasty meals, shopping for cute matching tops for the summer, being lazy in front of the TV while catching up on documentaries on reptilians, and talking. And I really mean covering just about every topic we could think of. We remembered nearly everyone we know in our family tree, dead or alive. We talked about sex, pregnancy and birth stories through generations in our family. We discussed the complexity and beauty of the workings of this Universe. We shared lots of stories – the difficult ones that brought up tears and shadows, and the funny ones that made us giggle.

So after our time together, I really knew I wanted to write about my family, but I could not quite decide which leg of the three-legged-stool (that I am guessing most families’ dynamics are) to focus on – the weird, the “wrong” or the wonderful. Focusing on the challenges and difficulties that we have experienced together would have brought out the aspects of “wrongness” or how things should have been different in some ideal world. The “weird” would perhaps show how we are unique in comparison to other families. At the end, this blog is about loving what is without wanting it to be anything other than what it is in the present moment, no matter how “wrong” or weird it might appear. So I decided to focus on all those experiences that I have had with this family (which - I believe - I chose to arrive into) that I actually love just the way they are. Here they are, in no particular order, the things I love about my family.

I don’t actually remember the last time we ever sat together and, for example, just enjoyed each other’s company while engaging in some simply pleasurable game or activity (like playing cards), but when it comes to diving deep into discussions about the twisted innards of the multi-dimensional Universe and the Meaning of Life there is no stopping us. And we have tried! While going deep into such conversations can be exhausting, I like that the majority of the most profound and thought-provoking conversations I have had in my life happened with my family members.

We may not all enjoy a perfect health 100% of the time, and each have had or continue to have challenges but we all possess a strong sense of the magical essence of bodies when it comes to healing as well as the power of mind-body connection. At least at some point in our lives, we have all been open to various alternative healing therapies and modalities – acupuncture and acupressure, reiki, crystals, magnets, affirmations and shadow work, release of energetic blocks, hands-on healing, coffee enemas, liver flushes, positive affirmations, etc. I love it!

We all have a passion for food - simple, tasty and nourishing. And we are aware of how powerful nutrition can be in allowing the body to restore itself and return to balance.

Since my parents’ divorce the four of us live in four different countries and we may not meet again. I am more bothered not by this thought but by the fact that even arranging physical meetings between two or three of us is cumbersome and, frankly, there seems to be a time limit for how long we enjoy each other’s physical company. But, by god, if I ever have a problem, no matter how small, or need any support from my family, their presence, care and concern in my life become as intense and palpable as if we were all in the same room. 

We don’t touch like they do in hip-shaking-rhythm-filled countries such as Argentina or Spain (I often admire on metros or in public how much Spanish people kiss and caress their kids!) but I don’t remember doubting that my family loved me. I also really like the other side of being “hands-off” in that we do not interfere with each other’s decisions or personal truths. Everyone is allowed to make their own decisions without obsessive control or need of approval. And we are slowly getting a little bit better at this whole touching thing with an odd hug or a kiss…

Even years ago, I remember sharing with pride how liberal our parents were in terms of allowing my sister and I to define our own experiences and make our own choices. My parents were always inspired by Kahlil Gibran’s quote about children being the arrows that just need to be aimed and let go off. It feels like that in my family - that whatever were the mystical karmic reasons for our souls to gather on this planet, it has all  been resolved between the four of us. And since we are not very good at just hanging out to play cards, the family unit is no longer needed as such. So it seems that we keep in touch not because of any blood ties or obligations, but simply because we find each other actually interesting.

Finally, one of the things that I admire the most about us is that we all have the inner awareness about things not being what they seem on the surface but rather all interwoven with mystery and magic. Therefore, our opinions often border on the edges or even completely alternative paths from what mainstream thinking might be.

It’s absolutely fascinating to be at this transition between the mossy family roots and a little bud of a new branch beginning to form. I really look forward to welcoming into our lives and getting to know this tiny painter with a fresh perspective who will add new colours and shapes to our family’s masterpiece.

On limits

Since I found out about my pregnancy back in November, naturally, I have been doing a lot of research and reading about birth and babies. It is an absolutely fascinating topic, full to the brim of opinions and advice. I strongly believe that in the current days of information overload, one needs to be quite clear about their own ideas and intentions before beginning any research, because otherwise very rapidly someone else's opinions will fill up every available brain cell. 

Very early on my husband and I decided that our intention and vision was opting for a natural home birth, therefore, our research has mainly focused on that. A couple of my favourite and most inspiring resources have been the documentary Orgasmic Birth and Happy Healthy Child DVD Series. They both present birth as the most beautiful natural process that can be incredibly empowering, pain-free, and even pleasurable, assuming the woman's body is allowed to do what it has been designed to do in the most natural and undisturbed way. While I realise that it might be difficult to foresee the outcome of something as unpredictable as birth, I resonate very strongly with their ideas and have been enjoying diving deeper to learn more about it. After all, having a clear vision or intention about how I would like to experience something is the fastest route to manifesting such an experience.

I have also realised, however, that pregnancy is not only time for blissful thoughts, but it is also nature's way of allowing us space to work through our deepest fears and shadows in preparation for a transformation to parenthood. So over the last few weeks while I have been soaking up this positive inspiring information, I have also had a few situations of seeing my own fears and worries reflected through people around me. Two conversations that triggered me in particular (one of which was last week, and I was not even supposed to be listening to it as it was someone else's phone call) alluded through statements or questions to possible future birth scenarios that the other people briefly imagined for me - mainly, involving pain and a c-section. 

I got really upset on both occasions and as I witnessed my storming emotions, it became clear to me that I was less fearful of the actual outcomes imagined by others, but actually more frustrated with the very idea that other people can limit our experiences in their imaginations. Worst of all, it made absolutely no sense to me on what basis this is done - how can someone decide that a certain experience is possible or not for you? When someone says something is impossible, is this based on their objective knowledge of the ultimate laws of this universe, on their own limited experience, or on them simply deciding that they will not permit you to have that experience? As the mastery of the universal laws appeared to be the least plausible explanation, the other two remained, and I found both of them equally annoying.

During the process, I felt like I was trying too hard to find that memory from my past that would reveal the secret lesson in this - when was the first time that I ever felt like I really struggled with limits? Was it with my parents? grandparents? teachers? And at the precise moment when I stopped trying to find it, I saw it. It was the day when my father showed me that it was possible not to feel pain. To say that as a little girl I considered my father an ever-powerful magician who knew all the laws of the universe would be an understatement because I actually thought that was the case till I was probably 25-years-old. In this particular memory, he gently pushed a thick needle through the skin between the base of his fingers explaining to me how powerful our minds were, and that it was possible to focus in such a way that dissolved the sensation of pain. Now talk about something to share as news with the other kids! I remember rushing outside to discuss this advanced magic with my friends in our backyard, and being stunned with their responses about how that was not possible. I felt the exact same frustration as I would feel again some 25 years later - was it impossible because the rules of the universe did not allow that, because the other kids had not experienced it, or because they did not want me to have that experience? As I had just witnessed the "impossible", the only option that made sense was allowing them to stick to their limited experience, and carry on believing what I knew was true to me.

Ironically, much later, when I was already a university student, the very topic of limits became one of my personal limits. Through all the years of Mathematics studies that I grasped with ease, the only topic that I remember really struggling with was one of the central ideas of calculus - limits. The concept is used to define "the value that a function or sequence "approaches" as the input approaches some value" (you know, this crazy stuff -  ). The limit is basically the boundary beyond which the variable or any member of the sequence will not pass. It seemed to make no sense to me then how a boundary was something that could never be reached and yet at the same time it was being continuously approached  (in my imagination a limit was the idea that eventually you just bumped into something and stopped approaching!). And it got even more complicated when you chose the input to approach the mysterious idea of infinity. As I was thinking about all of this last week, it struck me that maybe that was the whole point - every time we see a "limit" instead of seeing it as something to stop us in our tracks, we should just think about continuously "approaching" it. And perhaps the key way to deal with these situations when we feel that someone else is trying to define a limit to our experience, unless you really really know they are the master of the universal laws, is to gently return back to our own core and reset the limit to infinity.