Day 2 Conclusions

  • I need to give myself the time to immerse myself in love before I start my day.
  • Once again, the intention and commitment really do work.
  • Shit happens and love makes it smell sweeter.

So, this morning I didn’t allow enough time to sit and immerse myself in the sensation of love. I thought (or hoped) that I might be able to ‘do it on the way’.

And well, it didn’t quite work as I had hoped it would. I snatched moments here and there but always felt that I was catching up and never quite felt like I got to that point of saturation – you know, that point with a sponge where the water dribbles straight through.

The consequence was that I was a bit fractured and it was harder to trigger the love response within myself. I was more affected by self-doubt and more reactive to the people around me. Compared to the dramas played out in front of me every day, my reactions were minimal but I felt the subtle disruptions in my energy system and I also felt that it was more difficult to dissolve them.

The advantage of today’s experience is the increased awareness of the number of times in a day I make judgements about myself, my situation and the people around me. my intention to practice love and my commitment to live that intention meant that i was much more aware of my thoughts than i would be, normally.

And the truth is we all are making these judgements, every day, all the time and mostly unconsciously. Frequently we even own the right to make these judgements by making ourselves or the other person wrong. What an amazing opportunity I am giving myself to observe and alter my responses to life… another opportunity to engage with life as it is.

And this is the value of the public intention and commitment I made yesterday, to experiment with love and report the results . I could have easily ignored the disruptions I felt or not even noticed, allowing myself increasingly move into the grumpiness of separation. Instead I felt the feeling, then had a choice to trigger love or allow fear, and knowing the difference it’s a no-brainer to choose love.

And finally, shit happens. I came out of my class today feeling uncertain about my decision not to teach and feeling discombobulated about who I am in the material world as an able person. I have been unwell most of my life. As a consequence I have developed an identity as someone with chronic illness, and I am still learning who I am outside of that identity and how an able Lynnette Dickinson behaves and chooses and relates effectively and efficiently.

Then I received an email from the person I thought was going to be the publicist for the second edition of my book, rejecting the proposal to manage the publicity. I was gutted, I felt my heart break a little. I knew it wasn’t a rejection of the book or me, it was a rejection of the product as viable commercial option. Still gutted.

The email said the book is well written, well produced and the story is powerful but in the media world post Belle Gibson (a woman who faked cancer then faked a dietary cure, wrote something, became famous and rich then confessed to being a fraud), journalists are tired and cynical about so called miracle cures…except this isn’t a miracle cure and while the publicist could recognise this she thought journalists would not.

I felt so defeated and reactive. Many emotions clouded across my blue sky and I found myself buffeted between the winds they created. My fear of authority and mainstream (“I don’t fit in”), my rebellious streak (“FU, I will do it anyway”), helpless victim (“what do I do now”), even relief (“now I don’t have to do it”) and an outlying scream (“I don’t want to be identified with my disease any more, I am more than that”), all competed for airspace. all the clouds. i felt triggered back to the age of five and six.

Yet despite this storm of emotion there was a part of me that watched, that was bathed in love and even though the loved up me wasn’t yet strong enough to powerfully intervene, she was powerful enough enable me to become a witness to the show. My practice and my life has taught me that this too will pass.

I know this is a first world problem and I haven’t lost a dear one or been diagnosed with another disease but within this work so much of my hopes and dreams are entangled, not to mention my journey out of grief and suffering. In some way, the 390 pages made the suffering worthwhile and gave it a purpose. The very polite and respectful email showed me how much of myself I have attached to the ‘success or failure’ of this book and my experiment with love kept reminding me to tug my forefinger and repeat OM.

Love kept me centred and allowed the emotions to pass (albeit possibly temporarily), allowed me to be safe while I saw my reactions.

As I sit once again immersed in unconditional love I realise I don’t want to continue with A Journey to Peace through Yoga out of fear or reaction of any kind, I no longer need to prove myself to life. If I do continue it will be out of love.