Meeting an Old Version of Myself
“Sometimes the journey isn’t about discovering a new place. It’s about meeting an old version of yourself that still quietly lives within you.”
I’ve been traveling for over a month now running workshops and 1:1 sessions.
There have been moments of work, rest, play and satisfaction.
Yet deep down, something uncomfortable has been stirring in the background.
Without feeding the story of who and what events sparked it…
Essentially, the crux of it is relational — how I am choosing to relate to those close to me.
The Funk Beneath the Journey
My astrologer friend warned me that June was going to bring on an emotionally difficult time for me.
I’ve definitely been in a funky daze.
And now that I’m in Madrid, I am forced to really sit with it.
With recent events rejigging around, I could have escaped to Madonna’s VIP secret launch party in London that my friend invited me to at the last minute.
That would have been absolutely wild, and a fun distraction.
The city is also alive with Pride events all weekend.
However, I am fully in my hermit archetype and not quite feeling like I want to participate in all the buzz.
I’ve been going to yoga and exploring the city on my own in deep contemplation;
…sitting with a touch of nostalgia for a wilder past me…
but, mainly sitting with the notion of this deep longing to redefine what freedom means to me right now.
Maybe It’s the Stars, Maybe It’s the Soul
An existential quandary that probably doesn’t make it to the forefront of many people’s minds…
And probably not a big deal for most, but for the way I’m designed, it’s an all-consuming process that takes up all of my attention.
It might also be that we just entered a sticky Mercury retrograde, which is a time to push forward less, and a time to revisit old versions of past selves.
Also, the retrograde is going through Cancer — the sign of home, memory and a sense of belonging.
It could also be that I’m in the beginning of my Uranus opposition…
(the infamous “midlife awakening” between 41–44 years old, which can also be a “midlife crisis” depending on how you deal with what comes up).
Spain, Twenty Years Later
Twenty years ago, I traveled to the south of Spain with bright innocent eyes.
It was a summer of trying to escape from who I was.
I was on probation and on the verge of failing university.
I was a victim to my anxiety and anger at Life’s unfairness.
And the fear of rejection at the thought of coming out to my parents constantly plagued me.
On reflection, it really was a deep-seated fear of coming to terms with the massiveness of who I was designed to become.
So, I had this fantasy of joining a study-abroad program in Spain.
I would fall in love and find a new home where I felt safe to be me.
It was a juvenile, but not invalid wish, of wanting the reward of living freely — but without having to walk through the fire first.
Twenty years later, I find myself here again in Spain, though in a new city.
I’m not here as an adventurous young man running away from pain and into the sugary dens of pleasure,
but as a more pensive philosophizer ruminating on the nature of how my soul is meant to express freedom and authenticity over the next twenty years.
A Yoga Message in Madrid
Off I went to a Jivamukti yoga class here in Madrid.
A beautiful young woman named Rebeca taught the class.
Every Jivamukti class starts with chanting and a dharma talk to invite you into the more soulful layers of the practice.
The way in which she spoke reminded me of my teachers back home in New York.
And of course, she tells this story that I’ve heard other senior Jivamukti teachers tell before.
Of course, Rebeca’s teacher is Ruth Lauer-Manenti, a teacher who I have taken class with, and instantly recognized through her recounting of the story.
Because the Divine May Enter
The story is simple and goes…
In India, after a vibrant morning practice, you always see older women intently sweeping the doorways.
“Why are you cleaning first thing in the morning?” is asked to them.
They respond, “Because the divine may enter at any moment.”
In Jungian psychology, the house is a metaphor for the psyche and all its conscious and unconscious gifts.
And in that way, this simple devotion to keeping the house clean is a metaphor for keeping the mind, body and spirit clean.
We are so busy pleasure-seeking…
…trying to bottle joy in a jar, to drink in times when we feel down…
that we forget that one of the most powerful practices is simply to prepare the home for the divine to enter.
Moha, Prajna, and the Stories We Outgrow
All of the yogic practices are designed to purify moha.
In Buddhist and yogic teachings, moha is anything that clouds the mind and creates confusion.
It stems from getting trapped by the desire of seeking…
…wanting more than what you already have…
which is not wrong, however if you forget to appreciate with gratitude for the foundation you have built.
This is where we run into problems.
Moha is a delusional lens at life that creates suffering.
The antidote is prajna, or wisdom that is received by perceiving the root causes of the suffering.
As my Buddhmom who I spent 10 days with in Switzerland says, “Get out of the story, and go beyond.”
Staying with a Jungian psychoanalyst who has had five decades of field experience was such an invaluable gift.
But it was also incredibly intense because she can pick up things that very few people can.
And so, I was at the right place and at the right time.
The Right Story at the Right Time
I heard a simple story that I’ve heard before.
It was a potent reminder that shifted my perspective.
And during the class, I was able to go beyond one layer of the inner turmoil that I have been struggling with.
When you hear something so simple, in the right frequency, at the right time, miracles really do happen.
I felt so incredibly lighter after class.
My lens had shifted from focusing on the issues to cleaning and preparing the house for the divine to enter…
A quality that is often hunted for in the exterior, when in fact…
the divine is an outward manifestation of a deeper remembrance of the interior.
Freedom, Independence, and the Inner Home
It’s also not lost on me that it’s July 4th, American Independence Day.
My sense of patriotism has always been eclipsed by my metaphysical romanticism…
like a kind of yogic mutation of García Lorca in his homeland.
And so on this funny day of freedom and independence,
I pose this to you:
“What does the path of freedom mean to you, right now?
And how will you prepare your home so that the divine can enter, to help you walk that path?”