This past Friday night, I laid on the couch curled up under two blankets with my cell phone and a pair of headphones. I was watching the previous night’s concert, recorded from Red Rocks, with Gone Gone Beyond, Rising Appalachia, Citizen Cope, and my favorite, Trevor Hall.
I was supposed to be at the show. I bought my tickets as soon as they were available back in September. But as the time to fly out to Colorado approached closer, it looked less likely I’d make it. I already had a two week long trip abroad planned with a return date only the week prior and prices for just about everything went up in Colorado. And as it turns out, it really wasn’t in the cards for me to be there, because as I laid on the couch snuggled up under the blankets, catching the recording of the show I’d missed in person, I was also nursing a pretty serious case of the coronavirus.
I was incredibly grateful for whoever’s idea it was to live stream the concert. But, given the time difference and my early bedtime, I couldn’t actually catch the show live. Thankfully, Mandolin enabled it to be available for two days. I admittedly liked the fact that I also could fast forward through the set changes.
Live music is one of my greatest joys in life. I love attending concerts and getting as close as humanly possible to the stage and sounds. I especially love small, intimate venues. My favorite concerts of all have been when I’ve seen big names in tiny, obscure places. I’d yet to see a show at Red Rocks as this would have been my first, but I was able to check out the venue and attached museum a few years back during one of my trips to Colorado. I suppose I’ll have to check the concert at Red Rocks off my bucket list at a later date.
But back on my couch, I relaxed and healed from my sickness with the sweet melodies of some music I really love. Life, overall, has been going pretty well. I just got to visit one of the places I had been wanting to go for a while, Iceland, and accompany my brother on his trip to Norway. My heart feels pretty much healed after my last breakup. My kids are doing well. I’m still loving my work. Things feel pretty settled at the moment and I have no stress, possibly one of the few times in my entire life.
In many ways, this is what I’ve been striving for for so long. Ease. Comfort. Freedom. I am extremely grateful to have time freedom. I’ve structured my business so that when my little one is finished up with school, I’ll have location freedom. I feel safe. I feel loved. I love. I’ve let go of so much of the junk I had been holding onto and created space for new energy to come in. I love what I do for a living. I love that I get to wake up every morning and decide what I’m going to do with my day. I love that I’m typing this up in my pajamas. I love that what I do helps people.
I’m by no means arrived, or done, but life is good. I have no worries. I have no current pains weighing me down at the moment. Even with the virus attacking my body, I know I’ll survive and feel better physically soon. I’ve got to say though, after living a life with a lot of trauma, and then healing, it’s the first time it’s really been quiet and calm, in this type of way, ever.
It’s a little boring. I’ve always thought that people who created drama when there wasn’t any couldn’t handle the quiet or know how to be in stillness. I’m certainly not about to create anything just to ease the quiet. I’ve searched for this level of stillness my entire life. I’d happily revel in this everyday, knowing that it took forty years to achieve. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t going to give myself some new hobbies, interests and challenges to give myself something to do.
Which leads me to the point of this whole writing: I like challenge more than I like to admit. Chances are if you’re reading this, you probably do too.
One of my clients recently mentioned that she had just learned about growth mindset verses fixed mindset. In a growth mindset, the individual seeks and enjoys growth - or, if you will, challenges. In a fixed mindset, a person doesn’t have much interest or desire to change or to be challenged. It’s one of those, “there are two types of people” things.
I’m definitely a growth mindset type of person. Even if I thought I didn’t like challenges or didn’t want them, there has been and probably always will be a part of me that likes it and wants it. This became ridiculously clear to me during the couch concert at the moment Citizen Cope began to play his song Sideways.
I was instantly transported to the first time I’d heard the song, or at least, really heard the song. It was the end of 2016 and I was in a tiny yoga studio in Chestnut Hill, Philadelphia, for weekend one of my 200 hour yoga teacher training. As I struggled with keeping my physical body at pace with my teacher, Citizen Cope’s Sideways blasted through the speakers.
Only a few months prior I had met someone who swept me off my feet (this is the same man mentioned above, with whom the relationship just ended) and the song spoke to my soul. I felt the depth of struggle, with love, with my mind, with my body, with my soul. This man was awakening so much from deep within me that needed healing and he was a constant presence in my mind.
“That these feelings won’t go away
They’ve been knockin’ me sideways
They’ve been knockin’ me out lately
Whenever you come around me
These feelings won’t go away
They’ve been knockin’ me sideways
I keep thinking in a moment that
Time will take them away
But these feelings won’t go away
These feelings won’t go away
It ain’t easy
For these thoughts here to leave me
There are no words to describe it
In French or in English…”
I was only at the very beginning of understanding the depths of everything occurring to me intellectually but I felt it all with my entire being. The lyrics spoke directly to me; I felt them with my cells. I knew I had a long road ahead of me - with yoga, with healing, with this man, with my life. This was a pre-Reiki, pre-yoga instructor, pre-entrepreneur and pre-business time. My world was about to be rocked.
Six and a half years later, I sat on my couch and listened to the same song, but this time,it didn’t hit quite the same. It was just a nice song. It was nice to watch him perform it. It was nice to feel safe, comfortable, cozy and warm in my little home. I reminisced about that first time and how intense the experience was for me. I realized how much I had changed and how much I had overcome in all these years.
I felt proud of myself. It had been an incredibly long road from that yoga studio in December 2016 to who I am today.
At that point, I hadn’t even taken Reiki training yet (Reiki is my lifeblood these days. It’s my favorite thing to do and how I make a living).
I had only just embarked on my yoga teacher training and still had six more months to go. By now, I’ve completed three different trainings.
I was still largely unaware of the effects of past trauma and how they shaped my life. I was unaware of shadow work. I was naive. And I still held some very unrealistic beliefs about love, namely, that it would somehow fix everything.
I wondered if Clarence Greenwood ever felt the depth from his own song that I felt in hearing it that first time. I wondered if he had lived in that space before, or if it was just lyrics, just another song for him to sing. I wondered about the writing of the song and who it may have been about. And I felt that maybe, just maybe, his lyrics wouldn't resonate with me in that way ever again in this lifetime. Because with all the healing I’ve done, I can’t even imagine getting caught up in someone’s web in that way again. At least, I can say this today. Or maybe I’m still more naive in love than I like to think I am.
Either way, it brought me to this space where I realized just how much I had loved the challenges the last six plus years of my life brought to me. I’d loved the process of healing, even when it was difficult, messy, and overwhelming. I love how much I’d shifted my entire life, my beliefs, and my default settings. I’ve grown, and it shows. I live with more peace than I’ve ever known was possible to live with in this lifetime.
So, I’ll probably create some healthy challenges for myself. Maybe I’ll finally sign up for pottery class, find another yoga training to take, or read one of the harder books on my shelf that I’ve been avoiding. And undoubtedly, life will bring along some challenges for me, and I’ll probably forget I wrote this post and claim I don’t want them, but I’m sure they’ll come when I need them the most and teach me what I might claim I don’t want to learn. That’s usually how it works, isn’t it?
So for you, dear reader, when challenges arise, I invite you to look at them a little bit differently. After your initial fuss about not wanting whatever is happening (hey, we all do it) start to ask some questions of it, or of yourself.
Questions like:
Why is this challenge happening?
What might this challenge be teaching me?
How might this challenge help me change my life for the better?
Where is there space for me to surrender or learn from this experience?
We can learn so much from challenge. Sometimes, the intensity reminds us that we are still alive. Sometimes, we need to be reminded of the depth of feelings available to us. Sometimes, we just need something new to focus our energy on.
Because it can get a little boring when everything just goes smoothly and things are always easy. If you’re a growth mindset type of person, you might actually really hate it.
We might love to complain about challenges (I’m totally guilty of this). But the truth is I also love them and live for them. And without them, I would not be where I am or who I am now.
So here’s to all the challenges I’ve faced, already, and all those that will come my way. Thanks for everything you do for me. I’ll try to work on being more grateful in the moment. No promises, though.
Wishing you ease as you grow through your challenges, and depth of feeling and meaning in everything you experience in your life. ~ Erica