Bija - planting seeds of joy with yoga

When I first fell ill, I surrendered my authority.

I had no idea that that was what I was doing, but I’ve traveled this journey of chronic feeling shit-ness, I’ve discovered that that’s a thing.

A whole, great big fuck off thing.

Those who accept the authority you offer in desperation, in fear and terror, are fairly bloody bollocks.

They’re ego tripping, they may be doing it subconsciously, but still, it’s not healthy.

When you go to someone asking for help, pleading for them to step in, help you out, and they say I will, burdensome nuisance that you are, but I will – as long as you surrender your beliefs and listen to mine.

As long as you adopt mine, and you accept you are the lesser in this dynamic…

That right there is authority freely given and authority brutally taken.

It’s disempowerment.

It’s cruel.

Ideally, the person helping will nod, listen, accept your beliefs, value them, hold them in equal regard to their own, not claim superiority and suggest you walk the path together.

It’s a rare thing. A beautiful thing.

The opposite creates neural pathways of mistrust and initiates the process of closing down, isolating and withdrawing.

To begin with, I surrendered my authority to my GP and the consultants I saw.

I bowed to their expertise.

I surrendered my power to their greater knowledge. Partly because I was young, partly because we’re trained to do that. Doctor knows best. Patriarchal brain washing. Whatever you want to call it.

I went to my GP with a bullseye rash, and walked out without her examining me, listening to me or showing me any degree of human decency. I also walked out with the belief I was mad….because, as we know Lyme does not exist.

It’s bollocks.

M.E., likewise, bollocks.

And those were the two diagnosis I would eventually end up with.

Hundreds of thousands of sufferers with the same symptoms, thousands of studies showing mass inflammation, immune dysregulation, autonomic fucking oddness and a billion other structural fuck ups…but it’s definitely somatic.

You are definitely mad. Off you fuck, find someone else to harass with your list of symptoms that you’ve imagined.

So I did, I turned to psychologists, counselors and therapists to sort the mad out. Proactive like that, wasn’t just going to sit with it and go quietly madder.

Guess what happened - I handed my authority away again. The power dynamic was used to belittle, to shame, to invalidate and disempower me.

This was the point at which I became a warrior. A lot of people don’t like that word, I know, I’ve been told…. A lot.

It’s too harsh, too aggressive, it depicts a fight, and it’s not always seen as a positive phrase, so honestly beautiful souls, if it doesn’t resonate, fucking ignore it.

Only ever take on what lights you up.

The word warrior empowers me. It lights me up, reminds me to keep going. And I only apply it because I literally had to fight tooth and nail to survive what came next.

So, I had surrendered my power and my authority, over and over again. To people who took it, boosted their egos with it, and then threw it away, because I got boring. Illness is boring.

Unfortunately, the people I’d seen had planted their poisonous seeds in my soul.

Seeds of mistrust. Dashed hope. Limitation. I felt suffocated. Annihilated. Broken.

Their words, their beliefs that I was (quoting) useless, weak, fragile, sensitive, pathetic, attention seeking, childish, scared of the world, nervous, overly anxious, a woman, a woman, a woman (this came up repeatedly as my main issue) and utterly worthless became a mantra I didn’t know I was carrying.

Their words, insights and beliefs became a malediction.

A curse.

They became the essence of me. They became what everyone believed of me. What I believed of myself.

And, because our negative neural pathways are so much stronger (to protect us from future harm), than our positive, they are a god damn bastard to dig out and throw away.

Which is where yoga comes in. You had to know that was coming….

If you can plant destructive seeds, you can also plant nurturing ones.

You can believe whatever you want, without limit. Without fucking limit.

You can have and be anything you want, the power is yours, take it back.

If someone tells you that you can’t have something, be something, achieve something - give them that poisonous little seed, that bija (seed) right fucking back.

It’s theirs. They can plant it in their own souls, and disempower themselves with it if they want to.

That’s their limit, their comprehension, their lens, their stuff.

Not yours.

And then, plant the seeds that you would like to see, to own, to house – and let them blossom within you.

Into fuck off, mighty oak trees.

Place that seed, that bija in your belly and water it, feed it.

With meditations, sounds, chanting, visualisations - whatever works for you - but nurture it and invite the magic in.

We’re all alchemy, we’re all capable of lighting up the world.

So maybe start by lighting up your own soul up with a billion little seeds of everything you want, desire,

resonate with and hope for.


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