I Can’t Believe I Did It Again
I bet at some point in your life you’ve had that moment when you’ve stepped into dog poop crossing a grassy lawn, maybe even more than once. And you utter, “I can’t believe I did that… again!”
There are many equivalents to stepping in dog poop. For me, it’s when I lose my space. I start to act in ways other than myself because
I’ve become invested in things outside of me, like a project I really love, or helping a friend enjoy a new experience. Suddenly I’m not paying attention to me, or to how my body feels or what it needs.
For example, my body is not comfortable in hot weather. That’s why I now live in the Pacific Northwest. Every once in a while, the weather gets hot here, and I start to wilt. My body gets grouchy, I feel weighed down, I stop eating, and I become irritated with the slightest thing. Do I stop what I’m doing and make my body feel more comfortable? No, I continue to ignore my body because it’s uncomfortable and share my grouchiness with others. Lovely!
Or, I’m focused on a project that uses my skills and I feel happy. I’m humming along, spirit and body aligned, happy as a clam, doing what I do well. I’m shining my light. When I finish, I notice that people are seeing me and validating me, but I haven’t prepared my body for old programming that kicks in (to clean out). I’m not taking the time to reassure my body that it’s the present, not past events. Old fears surface, “OMG, someone’s going to take this away from me! I’m in danger. I bet it’s this person (or that person)! I have to be strong and fight this.” And there I am, off and running, making things worse by resisting, and looking in all the wrong places. The old fears seem so real for my body, and I’m not taking care of it. I’ve stepped in dog poop again!
What can I do about this? I can heal myself in present time. When I see what happened, I can accept it. I can forgive myself, and I can pick up the pieces and continue, to learn my lessons. It is not beneficial to torment myself, as I’m sure we’ve all done at some time in our life, by putting on a sackcloth and ashes.
Next time, I say to myself, I’ll remember about the dog poop. Or better yet, I’ll remove the dog poop before crossing the lawn. Seeing the humor makes it easier for me to change.
