Binds bring Freedom

tinachabot
Jun 17
5 min read

The most difficult challenge for every human is taking a step forward from a comfortable life, especially one that has been so difficult to build. The chapters have ceased, the challenges have dissolved, and here you stand, feet deep in the mud, clenching hard in resistance to the left and right sway. But the wind blows from the north every time, and the tremor begins.

A seventeen-year cycle is ending, and I remember how brave I was at the beginning of it. All new things, new beginnings, making my way to the first chapter of a rising. Finding my way to belonging in this new world, dissolving the habits, friends, programs, and jobs that no longer serve this climb. I felt so powerful and courageous, capable of doing anything and everything.

Now, in my soft comforts and my diligent schedule, I find a sense of tethering in this life—a feeling that I have outgrown myself once again, and I must begin to move out of a knot that is beginning to suffocate me. Something is amiss.

Maybe it’s just time for new chapters once again—a purge forward, clean from whispers of the past and immediate present. I am looking for the unspoken words. Throughout my entire life, there are ends of chapters that I linger stubbornly in. The chapter is longer than it needs to be, leaving me feeling like there is nothing left to write.

Vinyasa is the purest form of flow and an adventurous practice. Yoga is for the pureblood. Thousands of years old, unchanged and simply named, and lovers of this art can find no substitute. This art is the one honest practice that is eternally unchanged, yet changes me more than anything else. I find myself wanting to move into a cave and practice alone, closed eyes and the sound of my own breath and the breath of the ancestors who practiced this art. I am moving into the ether. My body is changing, my mind is sharper, and the patterns of survival have all but disappeared. I am not referring to myself as old, but more like a strong, sturdy antique—that piece of wooden architecture that will live long through the ages and be handed down for centuries, refinished and changed, fluid, always transformed into something new.

The universe is so gentle with me, softly nudging me forward. Once the first whisper is heard, I have what seems to be an eighteen-month span of time to experience the untwisting of a bind. The resolve is becoming clear. I find myself deep in an impasse. I only find appreciation on the other side before I climb the mountain. I also know in my heart that change, when needed, is always for the best. Sweet turns bitter when we know that we are living in what will soon be our past.

There are few temples left in community—safe and collective spaces where people unite without the separation of the collective. There is no opposition to the light, and things unthread to come back together. Constant movement, and all clinging sticks spin out into the abyss, as a consequence of their protest. I question the speed of the sliding doors in their attempt to keep serpent energy out. That back-and-forth motion is just never fast enough. Hard work lies in the practice of staying present and gazing into the abyss of your own eternal world. Chaos and destruction are as essential as order and systems. Light and dark both serve a purpose for change. In energetic motion, life moves forward, over and over again. The space of landing depends on how useful and well-practiced your tools of non-resistance are.

On a dark night, the stars twinkle, yet in the night, we see no motion because the dark hides what is happening behind the scenes. There is constant motion. Things fall apart and come back together. Even pendulums only hold power enough to swing from one duality to the other. Darkness and lightness work together because there is no life without either. Without the light, the darkness would just exist as a void, a bottomless pit. It takes the entire universe to inspire our passion for change.

Fear steps in when the calling becomes apparent. How is it possible that only a few people hear their own calling? This is the inward nudges, yet the synchronicity of symbols in our external world will only light the path that God is keeping nicely tended for you. We must awaken to the world and its offerings. Where will I land if I take action on my intuition? Will I be okay? How do I know that this is the right decision? How difficult is change? Am I able to do the work that is needed to turn my callings into more than dreams? Courage takes work and self-reflection. Manifestation can only come from true courage. There is no faking it. Vulnerability is the only gateway.

It seems that when I work myself out of a knot, there is a reprieve of softness for a while. When the anxiety comes back, I have this sense of dread, knowing that I must walk through this fire of transformation again. This time it lays straight on my heart. I have not felt this for five years. What is my anxiety telling me this time? I breathe through my first awakened state, trying to figure out what I must stand in, what I must let go of, what I must work through, and step forward in to find the space to heal again. God does not allow us to be stagnant or too comfortable permanently. With all of my practices strong, it is not enough. Never enough. I ask myself, what did I come here for truly? Taming the mind is the most vicious work. Every time I take a step to higher ground, the work seems to become more difficult. The struggle is visceral. I wonder why, at this age, things become more accelerated in handling ourselves. If we are not numbing it, we are feeling it. I look forward to the day that I can stand on the other side.

I am standing at the end of a 17-year cycle. I have a door in front of me to walk through that will begin a new cycle. I know that it is time. What does God want of me? I want to be ready to move forward.

A storm is always brewing, but I am of sage energy, and I love the wildness. Bring it on, bring it in.

Tina