Journey through the Inner World

I remember the exact moment my awareness turned on to my inner world. 

I was 8, maybe 9. My Mom was tucking me into bed, telling me to think happy thoughts, to ward off nightmares that often visited me as I slept. I asked her, "but how do I even know I am thinking?"

Like seeing my passed loved ones in dreams now, my memory of her response is filled with silence. I wish I could remember what she told me, but I do remember what happened next.

Suddenly, my inner world was louder than ever before. There they were! My thoughts! 

Now, how do I turn them off? 

I'd unlocked the door to my wild imagination that had always been quietly running in the background. It was both playful, and terrifying. 

It would take years before I recognized the power this awareness carried.

Without realizing how damaging it was, I spent most of my twenties masking behind personas and identities that helped me feel like I “fit in”, while constantly wrestling my thoughts. An effort to repress my thoughts and feelings, but, in turn, having them come back stronger and louder than ever before. 

Enough self-help books taught me that awareness isn't about silencing, but it is about seeing more clearly, as a witness. 

… Okay, but how do we do that?

I started to notice the patterns within my mental makeup. The coping strategies, the protective qualities... 

My mind wasn't trying to betray me; my hypervigilance was trying to keep me safe.

Having finally started therapy in my early 30s, I found ways to retrain my body and mind. Breathwork, meditation, talk therapy, parts work... they have all had a role.

Shifting my thoughts from "what's wrong with me?" to "what happened to me?", and noticing, somatically, where I was carrying the weight, I began to dig into the roots of my being. It became easier for me to meet my thoughts with compassion, rather than urgency. 

When I started metaphysical studies, I gained more of my power back. 

A Course in Miracles explains our thoughts as illusions, rather than truths. It encourages the power of choosing how our thoughts are interpreted, and allowing the mind to rest in peace, rather than remain in a constant state of war. 

I found strength in knowing my thoughts don't have to mean what my hypervigilant and critical parts think they mean.

It helped me see that inner peace isn't found in controlling our thoughts, but in changing how we relate to them.

“I can see Peace instead of this.”

• A Course in Miracles, Lesson 34
  
  
  

Shortly thereafter, my yoga teacher training began. The devotion to daily practice helped bring all of these lessons together, with my body as the tool.

Holding a challenging pose became a metaphor for holding a challenging emotion. Struggling in a balance became a marker of being off balance somewhere else. Feeling tightness in my body symbolized where I needed to let go, surrender.

Breath awareness became a sensation to stay with, on and off the mat.

Body awareness became an anchor and guide when my mind began to spiral.

Allowing rest became my way of integration.

My nervous system was learning the safety it always needed, through rhythm, repetition, and breath.

“Yoga is the calming of the fluctuations of the mind.”

• Patanjali’s Yoga Sutra 1.2
  
  

Of course, I am still a work in progress, and find solace in knowing I am an eternal student in this life. 

Like all things, these lessons will be learnt over and over throughout the spiral of life. New perspectives, quiet reminders, frequent re-memberings. I tend to go back to books I found comforting and wise to revisit their lessons and attempt to integrate them again. I would love to share some of these with you in later musings. Perhaps some will resonate with you on your journey, too.

For now, I offer this these closing thoughts:

Peace doesn't come from silencing the mind; it arrives when we learn to sit with our thoughts, rather than live inside them.

Peace grows when we offer ourselves compassion and gratitude, even in the smallest moments.

Especially in the smallest moments.

Reflections

When did you first become aware of your own thoughts? What do you imagine consciousness felt like before your stories formed?

Where has awareness helped you soften, rather than struggle? 

What parts of you deserve more appreciation than they receive?

In what way can you learn from your body what you are carrying in your inner world?

What would it sound like to meet yourself with compassion instead of criticism? Where does this show up in your body?

What small moments in your day can you feel grateful for? How does noticing them shift your inner state?