Like most families, we had our highs and lows. My Mom and Dad were pretty cool people but life events shook there confidence and caused them to be overly cautious and suspicious. I'm sure it was not their intention to pass such anxiety on to their children. But none the less, we came into adulthood with a lot of baggage.
Speaking for myself, I never thought I was seeing the world through my parents eyes. I truly believed I had developed my own ideas and that my behavior patterns were "things I wanted to do" rather than "things I was compelled to do". I followed rules, had a well-kept home and an organized work space. So why was I unhappy? Why did I not like myself? Why were so many people 'against' me?
When I began my Meditation studies, I really liked being with people who were working on changing themselves and their attitude. I had done some self-study on rescuing my inner child and felt I was among people who understood me. The first year was quite blissful, as the process not only alleviated my chronic back pain but really increased my energy. Pain-free life, who knew?
As I peeled away layers of ideas and attitudes that no longer served me, I hit pay dirt. It was the decommissioning of suspicion... and it's partner... unachievable perfection... that I identified as my biggest flaw. Hidden in a complicated pattern of behavior, this paradigm did not have the capacity to appreciate my goodness.
As much as I wanted to change and be free of my naysayer inner voice, it was truly a struggle.
Through the tenacity and stalwartness of my teachers and fellow Meditation brothers and sisters, I was lifted to another plane of existence.
now cue into my intuition... my navigation gear... to know when I should act and when I should just breathe and ride the wave. My naysayer still makes occasional snarky comments but my White Knight's parry and punch are on autopilot. Such a nice thing to have negative thoughts countered as soon as they arise.
When it comes to teaching, you could say that my decision was thrusted upon me. In fact, there was a lot of trickery involved. My first teacher used my adherence to order and rules to steer me in that direction. By telling me to demonstrate, lead or instruct, he slowly shattered the illusion I had of myself and my physical ability.
My call to teach the Meditative Arts, particularly Qigong, arises from my profound healing... healing on such a deep level that it defies words. I relish teaching these arts because they alleviated my pain, freed my mind, and encouraged me to nurture and appreciate my uniqueness. I teach these arts because I get to introduce students to the charming, loving soul that lives inside them, under the pain and anxiety they accumulated along the way. I teach these arts because it was always in me to do so. But it took a teacher to see that and to pull it out of me.