Amongst the litany of ecological, social and political devastation which surrounds us, optimism may appear foolish, belonging only to denialists or fantasists. But optimism doesn’t suggest that transformation looks pretty or will be easy or comfortable. Simply that transformation is possible.
Optimism for collective transformation grows through direct experience of cycles of personal transformation. Healing is a journey which is often profoundly uncomfortable before it can be liberating. It asks us to bring ever more pieces of ourselves, individually and collectively, from the shadow of the unconscious and reactive into the light of love. To do this necessitates a painful stage of seeing our reactive habits without yet having the ability to choose another way.
This evolutionary journey is described by the four stages of competence model, which highlights the stages of learning that we all move through. We start in unconscious incompetence, move into conscious incompetence, then into conscious competence before finally arriving in unconscious competence. It’s a model which can give some orientation when we’re feeling lost and disheartened, helping us see that we have the potential to be part of an evolving journey, rather than stuck permanently in a slow-motion car crash.
In the first stage, we’re completely unaware of our habitual behaviours and actions. We attack if we feel hurt; we believe ourselves to be victims even if we have been violent ourselves; we blame others and believe our stories to be absolutely true; we use these narratives to hide from our shame and we numb our pain with addiction. We try to get what we think we want, avoid or push away what we think we don’t want, and distract from anything neutral that reveals the void we are escaping.
These patterns may sound depressingly familiar when we look at the world around us. But remember we’re also unaware of the places inside us which still operate unconsciously as well. This doesn’t only happen to other people. The very nature of this stage is that we don’t know we’re in it!
Ironically, perhaps, it’s suffering which saves us.
The violence of these movements create pain for ourselves and others which eventually demands that we stop and take notice. And this noticing takes us into the second stage. Here, we finally become aware of things which had been normalised or unconsciously accepted before. This can be an extremely unsettling and disconcerting stage, because we’re not yet able to respond in a new way. It’s as if we’re watching ourselves self-destruct, yet unable to stop the habits playing out. To begin with, we might only be aware of our actions after experiencing the painful fallout. On a global scale it’s equivalent to only becoming aware of systemic injustices after a crisis - a pattern we’re coming to recognise. But over time, we gradually catch things earlier and earlier. First we see it while it's happening, and eventually we catch the inner movements before they manifest.
Although this is painful and can feel disempowering and disheartening, it’s important to remember that it’s an essential stage which can’t be bypassed. It’s not a sign of failure, but a necessary step in a path of learning and growth. If we can’t see what we’re doing, individually or collectively, we can’t choose another way.
Conscious choice is the third stage of the learning path. To rewire destructive habits takes patience and practice because we need to repeat another way of being until it becomes the new default expression. It is here at this third stage that most of the focus of spiritual practice lies. Practising holding the physical body in its open and aligned state, before we return to habitual patterns of contraction and collapse. Practising bringing the mind to the present moment and becoming aware of the movement of reactivity, before we lose ourselves in old stories again. Practising connecting to the wider web around us, before we retract into our illusory bubble. Practising meeting life with curiosity, care, compassion, delight and spaciousness, rather than viewing it as an enemy to defeat.
Each time we pause in the midst of suffering and choose to come into the body, breathe deeply, release unhelpful stories, receive support and feel what is alive in the body with love, we are choosing a path of love. This eventually becomes so natural that it arises by itself.
This is the final stage of growth, where we relax into expressing love’s natural response. But it’s not an idealised state available only to saints and gurus. There will be many parts of our experience, right now, where we express this ease and grace. The path is not linear: we inhabit different stages simultaneously in different areas of experience, at personal, interpersonal and collective levels. It is possible to be completely awake and aware in some areas of life, and entirely unconscious and reactive in others. All we can do is align our deepest aspiration with love, commit to practice, and remain open to receive the messenger of suffering as we trust this path of transformation.
It is a path woven with both surrender and commitment. We may start to meditate only to discover quite how crazy the mind is; yet with each release and return we strengthen the pathway of presence. We may begin to practise yoga postures only to discover how stiff and weak the body is; yet with each realignment and engagement, the body releases and stabilises. We may choose to no longer normalise war and oppression, and by opening to receive it everywhere around us we allow its suffering to elicit a new kind of conversation.
We open to the possibility that we’re here to learn from life’s classroom, and dance in its playground. And that both classroom and playground arise from a wholehearted, unconditional, uninhibited surrender to this moment - exactly as it is.
Because the truth is, it’s hard to be human. It’s hard to feel so deeply, to have a fragile body and a reactive mind. It’s hard to hold onto a life slipping through our fingers, and to push away a life which continues to unfold in ways we don’t like. It’s hard to be dependent on imperfect others. And it’s also hard to feel separate and alone. It’s hard to accept our fallibility, to have clouded access to clear vision and operate from unconscious narratives defending hidden emotions.
It’s hard when we don’t know we’re hurting ourselves and each other as we blunder blindly with flailing arms, looking for a path which feels like home. And it’s hard when we do know we’re hurting ourselves and each other, yet feel unable to stop the slow-motion car crash of our lives. It’s hard to receive the brokenness all around as we slow down and wake up to a world which is choosing to live in war.
It’s hard to be human, and yet, love never leaves us.
This changes everything. Love is already here in the air we breathe, in the water we drink and the food we eat. It’s already here in each heartbeat, each thought, sight, taste, smell, sound, sensation and movement. Love is already here, resting beside each pain, celebrating each delight and expanding into the great unknown with infinite patience and warmth. Love effortlessly flows into giving and receiving, and mysteriously radiates in wordless Being. Love’s presence is known in the moment we choose to recognise, allow and participate in the dance of its ongoing flavours and flow.
It’s hard to be human, yet love never leaves us. Which means all is already forgiven.
Because nothing exists in isolation. Every cause of every pain and suffering is a symptom of something else. This human heart is extraordinarily tender, and at any point if it had known better, it would have done better.
So let’s practise making no one into an enemy, friends. Let’s attempt to understand each other, recognising that delusion and violence are always founded in distortion and pain. Life is a classroom, and suffering is the messenger which returns us to love through the hallways of forgiveness. When we and others trip up and fall down, forgiveness allows us to stand up again to walk a new path, rather than gritting our teeth and doing the same thing over and over again.
It’s hard to be human, but love never leaves us and all is forgiven.
This isn’t a message we’re asked to believe. It’s an experience we’re invited to receive, again and again, by living it into our lives. By pausing in the midst of suffering to create a space of curiosity and care. By bringing our attention to the immediacy of this body and breath as an anchor for loving presence. By releasing the stories we’re circling through and the beliefs we invest in as if they were real - even if they are indeed true. By opening to receive something so much vaster than these ideas and opinions of right and wrong, to remember our place in the web of all things. By feeling the depth and breadth of this tender heart from a new place of safety which no longer tries to manage and control. By recognising, allowing and participating in the dance of love’s ongoing flavours and flow.
Optimism and forgiveness lead us to faith: the experiential, embodied knowing of love. Faith allows a surrender into all that is hard and all that is imperfect because it recognises that something larger is unfolding within and between us. It recognises an evolutionary journey of growth and healing, where a new kind of power is emerging from the ashes of alchemical transformation. A power aligned with love which finds its strength in vulnerability, sensitivity, intuition, nurturance and compassion.
If you’d like to join me on this journey, have a look at my upcoming yoga and meditation workshops, retreats and online meditation offerings here, which include:
a week of meditation, teaching and q&a online with Sangha Live from March 18th-22nd,
a workshop at Love Supreme Projects on May 18th with slow, meditative, alignment-based yoga, plus yin or restorative yoga, and sitting meditation,
day retreats, with yoga, meditation and nature immersion, focusing on rejuvenation and reconnection (February is now full, but there are spaces for April, June and November),
a week retreat where we sink deep into yoga, meditation, nature immersion and loving presence at the wonderful Moulin de Chaves retreat centre in France.
I leave you with the many names of our Ancient Mother, written by Robert Gass:
Ancient Mother, I Hear You Calling. Ancient Mother, I Hear Your Song.
Ishtar, Ceredwin, Hekate, Inanna, Isis, Artemis, Sophia, Athena, Coatilicue, Aphrodite, Mielikki, Astarte, Gaia, Sarawati, Kali, Pele, Pasowe, Demeter, Parvati, Hera, Akewa, Diana, Nidaba, Chicomecoatl, Lilith, Shkina, Morgana, Maya, Izanami, Shakti… ✨
Dearest Ayala. How wonderful to listen to you and these reflections. And how often I have also felt that sense of loving really being here, all around us, when we are able to drop down and tune into her. You express it here so beautifully here...I will look forward to the day when we can all listen to a whole audio book of yours! lots of love xxx Jodi xxx