It really is A B*tch Getting Conscious

出典: くみこみックス

So why do we do it? Why do we maintain working on ourselves when it requires so considerably work, when w...

Do you ever really feel that it requires more operate, far more out of you emotionally, to reside a conscious life than it did to live less-than-consciously? Several years ago I had a T-shirt produced with the saying, Its A Bitch Becoming Conscious. I wore it on the first day of my Journey Into Ecstasy workshop intensive because I could count on it to evoke instant, realizing laughter from all the participants.

So why do we do it? Why do we hold working on ourselves when it takes so significantly work, when wed sometimes rather be read this zoned out, pour a cold a single, light up a joint or cigarette, or grab the remote? Why do we place ourselves by means of seeming torture for no guaranteed rewards, occasionally paying a hefty price for the privilege of carrying out so? Are we just masochists disguised as seekers and healers? Is ignorance perhaps, if not the greatest policy, at least a better 1 than relentless self-examination? Who is it that mentioned that the unexamined life is not worth living? A lot of individuals may possibly disagree.

I know that Im supposed to answer these rhetorical, teaser queries for you in this paragraph. Im supposed to justify and validate all your hard operate, the cash you devote on coaching, therapy, click for source workshops, and books, the courage youve mustered to face your demons. But you know, I dont know why anyone does it.

When my coaching customers express how hard this work sometimes is all I can do is smile, agree, and cheerlead. I say items like, Doesnt clarity feel greater than confusion? Doesnt feeling your emotions feel better than walking around numb? Often they give in and admit that they like living in an aware and awakened state. At times they give me the appear that lets me know Im skating on thin ice, that their answer just might be a resounding No! if I werent so chipper.

I can relate. I like the temporary high that blaming and playing the victim offer so nicely. Blaming feeds my ego and playing the victim enables me to relinquish responsibility for my life. Who wouldnt say, Bring it on!

But the moment extra resources the high leaves, Im stuck with all my hangover symptoms: depression, lower self-esteem, helplessness, and hopelessness. I wake up and see in the mirror somebody who traded the excitement of possibility for the drudgery of inevitability, a person who is stuck in a rut, reading from a extremely boring script, complaining typically and loudly. I see someone who, whilst familiar, is less than admirable.

Kicking and screaming, or at least whining, I quit the chatter and remind that face in the mirror what the objective of consciousness is: happiness. I tell myself that I am more than the sum of my fears, self-judgments, and limiting beliefs. I quiet the chatter extended adequate to hear my spirits whispers. And when I persevere, I do occasionally stumble onto fantastic and unexpected joy. Far more often, I find myself feeling at least a modest measure of peace. Im grateful for that. Is it all worth it? I guess every single of us wants to answer that question for ourselves.