More On Letting Go

'In the endthese things matter most: How well did you love? How fully did you live? How deeply did you let go?'
~ Gautama Buddha

Letting go... 

It's truly my biggest karmic work in this lifetime and motherhood is a very intense, very "in your face" practice of this on a day to day basis-one that literally brings me to my knees on a regularly. Matter of fact, it was earlier this week that I found myself on the floor in a dark yoga studio bathroom praying and talking to the Universe...

"Okay... I need help...and I'm listening now..."

Letting go... I believe...is our primary aim in yoga practice and is the sole vehicle to opening not only to the beautiful possibilities but to the Truth of who and what we really are.

When I look far below the surface of all that I have often made things to be about and begin to have clear seeing in the direction of what truly is, in hindsight, I've only been able to achieve this *because* I had the courage to let go.

It's a daily practice and one that has to constantly be reinvented. In my experience, it most definitely isn't a passive practice, it's a very conscious one. Learning to let go, even in the tiniest bite size piece at a time, has been instantaneous in decreasing opportunities for me to shame and guilt myself and has increased my vibrations and energetic field. Quite simply stated, I FEEL better when I am able to let "it" go a little bit.

Above all else, when I'm aware of my holding patterns and work to let go of my conditioning, I'm Graced with elevated happiness and inner ease and this enables me a deeper presence to my life, my child and husband and to my own experience.

May we be compassionate witnesses towards the part of ourselves that creates the self-inflicted wounds. May we put down the weapon and begin to hold ourselves in the Light of Love.

XO
SM

“It is better to conquer yourself than to win a thousand battles." ~ ~ Gautama Buddha

Memoir in Three.

I read about this exercise that helps writers uncover details of their lives by picking 10 years and writing about it. The catch? Use three word sentences. For years, I've wanted to write a book but the aim of that book has died, been reborn and changed many times as my life has. This is a little more than the last 10 years of my life, out of order and less some specifics, parts and people but it is honest, at times a little messy and a reflection of my vulnerability.

I began writing this several weeks ago and would come back, reread and add to it. I intend to spend more time with this kind of writing, focusing on condensed periods of my life. To be honest, I don't know proper writing organization nor would I win a spelling bee. I can get wordy and I have an incredible ability to create run on sentences for days on end but I can write from the heart and do so in a way that is very conversational as if we were sitting together having tea. :)

I write to clear my head and to organize my thoughts and the experiences that have made a home in my heart (and everywhere else in my body for the matter). I also write with hopes that through sharing my experiences, someone out there can find some healing for themselves. Writing helps me get to the heart of some of my experiences in life. I hope that the unfolding of my life, through the written word, can be evidence that in the end, it all works out.

Maybe I'll end up getting the memoir written one day after all.

Before and after. Then and now. Life in words. Tell a story. Not just any. But YOUR story. In three words. Three words Only. Ready set go.

Who was I? A yoga teacher. An only daughter. A motherless daughter. An only sister. A middle child. Bunch of brothers. One parted ways. Was his decision. Had to forgive. "Let it go." Lots to forgive. Lots to admit. Lots of anger. Anger lasted years. Heart was broken. He blamed me. I was young. So very young. Took me years. To stop personalizing. Not about me. His own karma. Much easier now. Then the truth. Found out truths. Many many truths. Deceptions and lies.Truths about Dad. Love my dad. Still love him. Despite the secrets. Mom never told. Then she died. Death defined me. The "story" did. This lasted years. What a mess. So many secrets. Had difficulties coping.  I'm a secret. She could've shared. She should've shared. Tried to protect. Would've hurt less. Little less shock. But she didn't. Lies create lies. Secrets create lies. Finally moved on. Met another brother. Brand new brother. 10 years older. A loving brother. Loves and accepts. We share eyes. Name is Mike. Big brother Mike. We've moved on. From the lies. From the secrets. Had to forgive.  Healing is crucial. Forgiveness saves lives. Mistakes are made. Lies are told. Still must forgive. I'll never understand. As a mom. But I've forgiven. Really have forgiven. Even the deceased. Only love now. 

How about yoga? There was yoga. Ohhh the yoga. I was humble. Yoga was grounding. What is this? Who was I? "What is Namaste'? " "Read the sign." Loved my teacher. Very first teacher. Tried to meditate. "Are there colors?" She said no. No more meditation. No more colors.  No inflated ego. Just self-discovery. Just my curiosity. Things were fresh.  Moved to mainland. Bounced around some. Started teaching yoga. Was quite bendy. Slowly became strong. Met another teacher. "Studied studied studied." Slowly grew ego. Ego hurt heart. Heart still recovering. Yep, from ego. Only different now. Self-defining ego. Self-defining bullshit. I was "teacher". Such a joke. Self-defined teacher. Forgot about student. The student within. Became pretty bored. Became pretty self-absorbed. Became very frustrated. Frustrated with students. Not just self. But outside students. Saw it happening. Had to crash. Hard hard fall. Had to fall. Not really recommended. Was my path. Wouldn't change path. Death by ego. Harmful Inflated ego. Creates false seeing. Creates false everything. 

Ohh before that...Lived in Austin. Moved to Hawaii. I got married. Didn't have "marriage". Just the title. Much to young. Both of us. Moved to TN. Moved to Clarksville. Then got divorced. Moved to Nashville. Major life changes. Got a "job". Hated that job! Then another breakup. Got very depressed. Slept on floor. Darkness for days. 3 days specifically. Then heard birds. While on floor. Birds at night? Singing at night? Wrote about it. Just like light. Light in darkness. Got off floor. Took a shower. Met with Daphne. Gave me peonies. Love peonies now. Met Dr. Robin. Went twice weekly. "Challenge irrational beliefs!!" Never forgot that. Never forget that. Never forget myself. Thank you, Robin. 

Then what happened? 

Went to Vipassana. 10 days straight. 11 hours daily. Silence and mediation. 10 straight days. No eye contact. No spoken words. Absolute self-study. Silence Silence Silence. Body, speech, mind. First time ever. All in nature. It was perfect. Back to meditation. Didn't see colors. But saw soul. Soul was injured. Remembered some things. Didn't want to. We're all healing. 

Often felt separate. "Separation is illusion". Was never separate. Just got lost. Didn't love self. Didn't *know Love. Didn't know *self. Didn't know *how. Lived in "stories". World's biggest judge. Judge of self. World's biggest critic. Critic of self. Abused my body. Recklessly abused body. Abused my intuition. Didn't honor intuition. Felt a fake. Felt a hypocrite. Wore many "OM"s. Wore many malas. "Aren't I legit? See my malas? See my website? See my backbend? I'm a teacher. See my photographs? See the magazines?" Me me me. Sanieh was lost. Sanieh...who's Sanieh? Slowly started realizing. Path is inward. "Definition" isn't external. Truth isn't backbends. "Yogini" isn't malas. Truth is Love. Nothing else matters. All is Love. Whatever that means.  Seriously, just Love. Am still comprehending. Want to know. Letting "it" go. Biggest karmic work. LET GO, SANIEH. To be realized. Fully fully realized. To teach son. Teach through being. Still not there. At my potential. Not there yet...

Am growing though...

Then met Jeff. We just clicked. Timing finally right. For us both. For *someone right. Had some healing. Had some forgiveness. Not complete yet. Mostly inward stuff. But much better. We both knew. We both grew. He loved me. He told me. I told him. We both loved. I thanked God. Who was God? Jeff showed me. Didn't mean to. But he did. Never was alone. Never was forgotten. Was Always loved. Loved by God. God inside me. Not separate God. Not outside God. God within me. He teaches that. "He" meaning Jeff. Doesn't mean to. Doesn't even know.  But he does. Love him so. Still searching though. Searching for God. Makes no sense. No "search" needed. God is there. In my everything. Always been there. Still absorbing this. Still digesting it. May take time.  Is "Love" God? Maybe Loves' God.

"Oh My Goddess". "Jeff! Jeff! Jeff!". I couldn't speak. Sat on toilet. Covered my face. Literally, 20 minutes. Couldn't speak words. Only spoke tears. "Oh my God". Was *this God? In my belly? Always wanted motherhood. Started to wonder. He held space. "Gonna be PARENTS!" He said whispering. I'll never forget. I was terrified. Wanted it though. Was still terrified. Motherless daughter here. Wondered, "Could I?" Knew I could. But was sad. Wanted MY mom. Was "story" defined. Worked through that. Very different now. Am still sad. On some days. Am also strong. On most days. And I remember. Its all perfect.

Jeff proposed marriage. At Yoga Vida. On his mat. Where we practiced. In the mandala. "Help with handstand?" But no handstands. On his knee. Gave me kisses. Still was clueless. Then a ring. Made for me. I said "Yes". Vic freaked out. Quite funny, really :) We married there. AT Yoga Vida. Couldn't believe it.  I cried hard. Finally my turn. "I choose you." Giant Ganesha Altar. On yoga mat. Where we met. Yoga mat altar. OM Jai Ganesha. Auspicious new beginnings. 

Something started happening...

Ego began deflating. Damn inflated ego. Was still teaching. With more humility. Think they knew. I definitely knew. It was time. I would pray. Pray for love. To share love. Teach from love. Real deal love. "Just breathe, Sanieh." I spoke less. I loved more. Wanted to heal. Myself and them. For my son. Can I heal? Knew I could. If I loved. Space was created. I stopped talking. Opened my heart. Facilitated fluid peace. Opening for all. I would cry. Chant and cry.  "Mata Durga Swaha." Cried during Savasana. So did they. We cried together. Did they know? We're all healing. The yoga heals. The right kind. "Right" is relative.

Felt baby move.  On wedding night. Sweet baby boy. God loved me. I never knew. I felt punished. Did something bad. Really really bad. The mom died. Thought God punished. That's not true. God doesn't punish. Its all lies. Love only loves. Wondering what name. "God" and baby. How about "Universe"? How about "Goddess"? How about "Light"? How about "Grace"? How about "Spirit"? How about "Love"? Sometimes resist "God". Name and essence. Name and existence. Existence within myself. Working on that. Again, for son. Know there's Truth. Truth deep down. God in belly. Grace in belly. It's all love. Names don't matter. God doesn't punish. Grace doesn't forget. I was loved. Had to be. I had proof! Proof in Jeff. Proof in belly. I was opened. I was loved. I am loved. Was always loved. 

Sweet growing baby. Labored at home. Chose home birth. Best choice ever. Rocked my foundation. Foundation still rocked. Still quite profound. "Profound" is overused. It's MUCH bigger. Shook ENTIRE Universe. Everyone is different. Everything is different. Who am I? Not the same. Never her again. Pregnancy did that. I saw suffering. As a child. My own mother. I remembered that. During my pregnancy. Saw her suffer. Hurt my heart. Growing momma heart. "Please God, please. Not my baby." Never see suffering. Can't protect that. But not ME. No suffering mommy. Not like mine. Please God, please. Protect my child. Protect his eyes. See me thrive. See mommy happy. Never suffering mommy. Jeff promised me. "It's my gift. Gift to you. Not our baby. Don't you worry. I promise you. Not that life. Won't be his. Not that loss. He'll never see. No suffering mommy. No suffering parents. Not like that." Thank you, God. Thanks for Jeff. Thank you, Jeff. For our baby. For your promises.

June this year. Busy hot Saturday. Went to nursery. Got some plants. Hot  Hot Hot. Took a nap. Felt some cramps. Then water broke. Labor happened quickly. "Gum Ganapatiye Namaha". Removal of obstacles. Fear lasted seconds. There I chanted. Chanted during labor. Many different chants. Some the same. Same as pregnancy. He was familiar. Knew my voice. Recognized the chants. 1 specific chant. 1 specific song. Recognized them both. Then it happened. I saw God. In my arms. Baby loved me. I loved him. In an instant. Never the same. Shiny, new baby. Thank you, God. Smiling right now. I gave birth. Then I died. Died right there. In our home. Where I birthed. 

Who am I ? She's no more. Brand New Woman. Grew a baby. Then baby left. Left my body. Now new body. Trying to ground. In new body. In my heart. Catching my breath. Still, almost everyday.  My new heart. My new thoughts. My new worries. My new love. Protect him, God.  Please protect Keyhan. My heart expanded. Grew another chamber. Still in recovery. Open heart surgery. Recovery never ends. Body recovers though. Still in adjustment. I'm a mom. A motherless mother. Its all serendipitous. Its all inexplainable. I'm a mommy. Mommy to Keyhan. Keyhan means "Universe". He's OUR Universe. 

Yoga is random. Random at home. Perfect yoga though. Teacher no more. That's not true. Teacher of love.  Now a student. Student to Guru. Baby boy Guru. Jeff is yoga. He's my yoga. Opportunities in humility. "Letting Go" opportunities. Inflated ego shatters. Its a mess. Death of ego. Starting brand new. Not her anymore. Never her again. Self-Identification struggles. Who was I? Who am I? There is time. Time for everything. I am unfolding. New me unfolding. Keyhan's mommy now. Jeff's wife now. Focused energy now. There is time. For other things. Just not now. Focused on love. Loving my family. Being their heartbeat.  Brand new Sanieh. Not sure yet. Who she is. Who she'll become. Slow, full breaths. Om Jai Ganesha. Here I am. Every new day. I wanted love. Now its here. Saw this life. Was always here. Just didn't know. Once was blind. Now I see. In my belly. Now on bed. Sleeping sweet baby. Happy happy baby. Happy happy mommy. Happy happy Daddy. I'm still adjusting. For a while. Just my path.  Hard to convey. But am breathing. Thank you, God. So much love. 

"Birth Story"

"Being pregnant and giving birth are like crossing a narrow bridge. People can accompany you to the bridge. They can greet you on the other side. But you walk that bridge alone.” African Proverb

I've been doing tons of writing since June 9th (and long before) including trying to write my "birth story" for some time now (I actually asked my husband to write his version since his perspective and relationship to it was/is a completely different one that mine). I had heard that "processing" one's birth can take some time, years even. I had initially assumed that if processing were required, then the birth must have gone in an undesirable direction. Having experienced the very birth I hoped for, wanted, meditated on and visualized, I still find myself trying to process the experience as a whole.

 ~~~

 It's Wednesday, June 13th, 7:20p.m. My name is Sanieh and I just gave birth to my son 3 days, 21 hours and 47 minutes ago.

I recently began writing details of our birth story and by "our" I mean that of my family; not only the birth of my precious son but that of my husband becoming a father and of myself being born as a mother.

As I find myself just a few days on the other side of that narrow bridge and as each new day brings its own insights of that sacred process, I've realized that I cannot possibly write, never mind share, my birth story at this time. It's still being digested.

I could tell you that the duration from the time my water broke to the moment I birthed our son was a quick and progressive 7 hours.  I did it completely drug-free, through my body's wisdom alone, naturally, in the comfort of our home and on my own terms...thank you sweet Grace.

I could share that there was a very emotional and symbolic lighting/prayer vigil at my family's Ganesha altar where I initially labored and that at my Mommy altar, I got on my knees and made a mantra of asking my worldly mother to be with me and put a photo of her in my shirt close to my heart...only to later realize I was asking THE Mother to be with me... She hasn't left me since.

I could share that there was a birthing tub in the center of my bathroom and 4 people who were all meant to be there loving and supporting me-even though my eyes were closed the whole time and I never looked into the eyes of any of them. At one point, the bathroom was filled with dozens of candles they lit as well. I only know this because the photographer turned on the bathroom light which got an immediate reaction out of me as my senses became incredibly heightened (still are in many ways) and the midwife had the lights turned out instantly. The remedy was candles...lots of them.

I knew that while none, one or all them were interchangeably in that room with me throughout this period of time, my work was an inward one. I never once asked where anyone was nor did I ever feel scared or alone...just incredibly and miraculously present.

I could "tell" you that I was in another state of consciousness; a state that only a woman who is free of any kind of drugs in her system could possibly go to, scientifically speaking, due to the hormones and endorphins that can only be released as Nature's coping mechanism and as a result of experiencing what is happening on the physical plane. I could also tell you that I danced that dance embracing the changing tides and called upon something I remembered, making a choice to go to the center of each swell .

I can still hear my beautiful midwife telling me,
"Sink into it, Sanieh."
And I did.
Those words changed everything...

Through words, I could tell you that there was an in-explainable ability to float between the two worlds I found myself in but words could never do justice. In one world, the waves came on stronger and more powerful than anything my body or mind has ever known or had to comprehend. So much richer than what I could have ever possibly imagined; I was somehow able to come back yet stay connected during the lingering sensations that flirted with brief pauses. I could share my visualizations, my repeated visualizations that got me through the most challenging part of child labor or that the most challenging part  was followed by what my husband said was accompanied by cycles of extreme intensity and the deepest state of peace he'd ever seen me in...I think I remember him whispering in his amazement during the peace.

I could try to explain how I found myself praying to Mother Goddess and Father God (it's all the same to me...) that I too would be delivered with my son...even though my inner, wordless prayer could never have been translated by anyone...not even myself until just a short while ago.

I could try to express (and fail miserably) how it is that I would never describe the physicality as "pain" but that it truly was the BIGGEST physical experience of my life and that the only word that could ever come close to labeling this experience is "Surrender". And that through the death of self, fear, worldly thoughts and expectations; through the cessation of time, space, names, faces, colors, perceptions and beliefs, I existed in the Mystery itself, in the presence of my Source. I was with God, AS God...no separation...only devotion, commitment and love.

I could share the chants I chanted during the different stages of the process and the sounds I found myself humming as if to somehow cradle and carry myself through the particular parts that were beyond any kind of comprehension, previous experience or description.  And in raw honesty, I could say that hearing one of them in particular now is almost unsettling even in its immense beauty and significance of this moment in time.

I could attempt to express what it felt like to hear the brief cries of my creation after he left the vessel of my inner body and what it felt like to see his head turn towards me as his cries stopped while he looked at me as he heard my voice chanting a familiar chant the moment we touched one another's skin for the very first time.

Grace is real.
And I was held by Grace
as I held my child for the very first time.

I could get excited and talk about my newfound amazement in just how wise and brilliant my body is, how deeply I've tuned into my innate intuition and how it's served me, how powerful I feel, how rocked I am at my core, how different I feel when I wake up in the morning and how different my husband looks to me, right down to his long eye lashes.

And of course I could share details of how my every wish, prayer and care of this home-birth were fulfilled and that the only void was of those things I had truly feared and didn't want to come to know anyway.

What I cannot share is the story of our birth because I've realized that while I could put these details and include intimacies, my prayers and conversations with God and my child moving through me and words I heard around me all into story form, this birth story of ours and the processing of it is still writing itself. This that will continue for some time.

Through the magnitude and enormity of my experience,
I have been birthed a new woman
and its something I'm reminded of and visited by every day now.

Knowing what I know and knowing the Truth
as I now know it
I am forever changed.