Mirror, Mirror

They say that what you don't like in another is a reflection of what you don't like in yourself.  That concept has always eluded me.  I could sort of get it, but not fully grasp it.

This morning I whacked the back of my hand on the corner of the counter and it hurt.  As I thought to myself, "wow, I need to slow down and pay closer attention", I recognized that I took responsibility for whacking my hand.  It wasn't the "stupid counter" and it wasn't because of the dog who was nearby that I moved too closely to the edge.  No, I did it.  Done.

In just that moment, I laughed out loud!  The clarity of the lessons is getting stronger and stronger.  It was because I lived with someone for many years who would do the same thing but the reaction would be a full on rant including countless profanities.  And it would linger for another 10 minutes, "g-dammit, f*&#n this and that, sh*!" and I would listen and sit with my jaw open.  "How could something like hitting your hand on the counter cause such an incredible rage?"  Really?

Back then, that's when I realized I would do the same thing.  Not that demonstrative or violent but it was the counter's fault for sure.  It took the exaggerated expression of another to show me my own actions.

So, this morning when I laughed, I gave thanks to the Universe.  As difficult and unpleasant many of those experiences were, they were what I needed to move another step ahead in releasing my own demons.

Mirror, Mirror, you are the fairest of all.

Pages In The Journey

Charley Miller and me, Swinging with the Stars 2012

People's Choice and Dameon Award winners

Free of injury, illness and obstacles.  Thank you Universe.  Thank you Ganesh.

Thank you to all who supported us during these past few months.  Thank you to all who were able to come to the show.  Thank you for the emails and messages last night and today.  Thank you Charley, my friend.

With entire sincerity, I can tell you how proud I am of this moment.  Charley is the most respectful, punctual, dedicated, and protective partner.  He made this win happen.  There is no feigning modesty here.

We were paired at a time when staying present was impossible for me.  My plate was spilling over.  Adding just one pea more had me on the brink.  And when that pea was counting on me to make room on my plate, I resented it.  Couldn't this morsel understand that the only space I had was beside my plate?

I went back and forth on my decision to participate in the competition this year.  At the time I said yes, it made sense.  A few things shifted and suddenly I found myself in a position I was not capable of handling to the best of my abilities.

And so life's journey goes.  It is said that when we are ready for the lesson, the teacher appears.

Once I settled the inner conflict and restated to myself my decision to be Charley's partner, I then had to develop my strategy.  How was I going to do this when my brain was overtaxed and my heart was closed for business?

All the while as the chatter of my inside voices got louder and louder, I would meet Charley twice a week to practice.  He was there, ready, willing, vulnerable and extremely devoted to the commitment he made to the charity and to his supporters.

In a rare moment, when the voices drowned each other out into a silence, I saw this. 

I sought refuge in my yoga room, under a soothing dim light, enveloped in rich Indian incense, grounded on my mat, calling on my Angels, Spirit Guides, Masters and Gurus for guidance, for clarity, for confidence.  I reached out to family and friends and divulged my fears.  I listened to Pema Chodron over and over grasping at the concept of Shenpa.

I embraced an empowering daily affirmation.  I repeated one of my favorite mantras, "I choose love." 

The fog began to lift.  My path illumined.  My trust in my journey reinforced.  Numbers started to appear. 

With each practice, Charley's steadiness demanded I reach deep down inside and pull out what I knew I had.  He deserved that.

Over the months that we met to develop a routine that was fitting to both of us, my plate was clearing.  It didn't get bigger.  It tilted.  The things that no longer served my highest good slipped right off into oblivion.  The more it tilted, the more space I had for that pea to jump on, roll around in comfort, unrestricted by what was. 

When we are allowed space, when we give ourselves and each other space, extraordinary things happen.

Without Charley and our time together, I very well might be sitting with a plate on the verge of cracking under the weight of impediments.  Charley won the Mirrorball trophy he so deserved and I won another stepping stone in this enthralling journey.