JAYA the TRUST COACH
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diamonds and trust nuggets

Original Post: mid-June 2018
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How You Walk Yourself through
the EXPANSION Includes
How You Talk Yourself Through


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​If you want to walk yourself through the expansion,minding your personal evolution in both the kindest and most effective way, you might want to respond well to catching yourself in an old pattern.
   Hey, if you get out the whip when you catch yourself, why would you even want to be self-aware?
   A pattern is something that repeats: no surprise when it does. (No surprise and no problem! Quit acting surprised or being dismayed or incensed. OF COURSE it’s back. Pattern!)
   It’s okay if it repeats after you’ve done a bunch of work on it, or (wow--proof of work done) thought it was gone entirely. You might begin bysupporting yourself in the following simple ways:
  • notice how much it took to get you back there (did a slew of tricky events happen in sequence, for example?)
  • congratulate yourself for the loooooooooooong time since the last infraction
  • let the flashback to old ways remind you that being perfect isn’t even something to aspire to—so, yay, still perfectly imperfect, and willing to keep course-correcting toward what feels better and better aligns with your current self!
   What follows is an extended example of how you might talk to yourself.I recommend doing this ALOUD because in your head you’re more likely to slip into old habits of self-recrimination (it’s a veritable morass up there).Let’s say you just got abysmally unaware of how time works (a way you used to chronically live) and your timing is sufficiently off that someone will be inconvenienced. Try something like this while you’re driving:

   Sweetheart [or substitute your favorite term of endearment for self or, if you don’t have one, play with something that doesn’t sicken you], here it is again. It’s okay. This is something human beings do, and you’re a human being. Welcome to the human race, love. You’re actually so much better at this time thing now. It’s really okay that you can stray into warped perceptions again. Isn’t it great to notice you like the more functional way better?
   [Switching to I] I’m getting okay with this misdemeanor. I’m heading that way. There are worse wagons to fall off of. I know I can get back on better if I’m not too hard on myself. I’m willing to be kind to myself. I’m willing to meet what’s happening right now. I’m willing to meet it without believing it shouldn’t be happening. I’m going to breathe into this tight place in my belly that says I’ve done it wrong. [Pause for 3 breaths that target the belly gently, just making space, forcing nothing.]
   I’m going to get there as quick as I can and I’ll drive safely the whole way, because getting flustered and reckless is just part of the old pattern that actually, I’m more done with than not. And maybe it's a life's journey, and I'm willing to take it. I also truly believe that everyone’s safety—mine included—mine included—mine included—is more important than my getting there any earlier than it makes sense at this point. This is reality. I’m late. And I’ll get there.
   I’ll apologize. I’ll say I’m sorry once, and I won’t grovel. I won’t make an excuse, either. I’ll let L know I value her time. I’ll value myself by getting calm on my way there so I can be at my best currently possible with her instead of being a discombobulated hot mess. And if I’m not a vision of beatific calm by the time I connect with her, I’ll get okay with that too. I don’t have to be at my best to be worthy or worth someone’s while. I’ll keep calming myself when I’m with her by watching my breath even as I listen and talk. I’ll come back to the core of myself. I’m doing that now. [Insert another breathing pause and check in with how that same spot in the belly now feels.]
   I refuse to act like a dog with my tail tucked in and my head hanging down. I’ll just try on Louise Hay’s old two-part affirmation right now that I used to make fun of: I love myself. I approve of myself. Truth is, I’m pretty happy with who I’ve become. I love who I’m becoming. I actually trust in my own evolution. I trust life to support my evolution. I’ve seen signs of it my whole life. The fact that this event is abnormal and feels off shows how far I’ve come. I’m not doing a half-bad job at this being human thing.

​   Why did I go on and on for paragraphs? Because that’s the undoing. Don’t say a couple of there-there things to yourself as the mind tenaciously yanks you back to its meanest, ugliest ways and you head straight for self-loathing or giving up on yourself. Self-abandonment no more means having none of it: so go for a generous helping of the antidote.
   Let’s conclude with Rumi, who has such a gorgeous way of telling us to welcome what we don’t like in ourselves. If you know him at all, you know this one. There’s no unkindness to self in his approach either—not a whiff of it. And don’t you love rereading it? I invite you to beginner’s mind: receive it like you’ve never heard it before.

The Guest House
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning, a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice.
meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.

Be grateful for whatever comes.
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

— Jellaludin Rumi,
translation by Coleman Barks


Love & blessings, Jaya


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