Dear Meditation

Dear Meditation,

Thank you for aligning everything in my life when a lesson needs learning. If I don't get it the first time, I am so very grateful for the incessant reminders that pop up until I finally realize what it is that You are trying to teach me. Apparently sometimes I just need a swift kick, while other times I need to be bulldozed with the message I'm meant to hear.

Thanks for the annoying evolving process of Enlightenment.
Yours,
Leah

Seriously.
I just got back from meditation, and the question I keep asking myself is, "seriously?" How is it possible that when there is something we need to hear, it comes up over and over again until we internalize it and finally start to listen? Just yesterday I had a painful awakening about my self-righteous arrogance - the belief that I am "too good" or "too different" to have an eating disorder or submit to the traditional recovery process - and ever since, I've been continuously bombarded with messages about egotism, arrogance, and letting go of the identities to which I cling so fiercely.

My daily Annie Dillard reading was about the childhood realization that we are not invincible - when we realize that we aren't going to grow up to be be a Major League pitcher or the winner of the Nobel Prize for mathematics. There is a point in our growing up when we come face to face with the truth: we are not The Best. We aren't going to shatter every world record or be outstanding in every pool we enter. In our childhood realities, we can do and be anything we desire, and I, at least, never pretended to be "average." We don't dream about being normal - we envision a world in which we are the stars, the headliners, and the centers of attention. For people like us, the rules of this world just don't apply (Hello, Gravity?).

But at some point, our internal realities come crashing into an external world with rules that do in fact apply to us, a world where we aren't always the only shining star in the sea. We get cut from the basketball team, get deemed a geek and relegated to a certain cafeteria table, and break our arms when we jump off the roof fully expecting to fly. Over time, we come to see ourselves as special, but not set apart from everyone else in some sort of distant "Different League."

Apparently, I missed the last part of this lesson. I am still hooked on the notion that I am exempt from the rules and limitations of this world; I see myself as set apart in a "Different League" where being normal is not acceptable and being average could jeopardize my club membership. I hold myself to unreasonable standards, and justify everything I do with the understanding that I am different, better, and "terminally unique." Yep. If this isn't undercover self-righteous arrogance, I don't know what is.

Enter meditation. I walked into the meditation space tonight with my head held high, after a solid day of committed recovery and spirituality. I had eaten all day, spent time reading, writing, and using treatment skills to surf through waves of self doubt and deprecation. I sat on the cushion breathing in all of the things from which I'd rather run away... and before I knew it, I had been swept into a deep visualization. I saw myself in the midst of a great crowd, with everyone dressed alike in white robes. We were indistinguishable; I was one of the crowd. It was terrible. I thought I was going to lose it - all I wanted was to be seen, to be noticed, to be identified and set apart. And yet, here I was, in this space in my meditation where I was just one of many, truly equal, beings.

I still can't shake the feeling of terror that overcame me during the sit. Who am I, if not separate and identified? How will I survive? My ego is fighting hard to survive, and in response, the Universe keeps firing all of these pieces at it to encourage me to bravely begin the process of separating my True Self from the False Identity I cling to for dear life.

And in case I missed the memo that my lesson for the week is about my arrogance and refusal to see myself as an equally lovable (no more, no less) sentient being, the Universe pounded home the message again - following the sit, our meditation leader gave her dharma talk on the ways in which we use our identities to protect and shield ourselves. She talked about how we use identity as a way to render ourselves visible in a world that has often crushed us and made us feel unlovable and invisible. When we are hurt, we react protectively - we cling to our identities and they become the life rafts to which we cling, making sense of the world by dividing ourselves into small boxes and camps where we can be safely recognized and named.

Letting go of these identities - the labels and ideas that have grown around us to protect us and make us feel like we are set apart from the millions of other beings around us - is an incredibly frightening endeavor. During our meditation leader's talk, I wandered back into the crowd of white-robe wearing equals, and found that without the shield of my distinct identity (as a Minnesotan lesbian, college graduate, anorexic...) I was lost. Without those things, I am terrified of becoming invisible - being lost in the crowd - and not having any sense of direction and purpose.

So, apparently my ego is tied to the labels and boxes in which I've found visibility, security, and comfort. What does that mean? It probably means that my process of awakening involves a deep consideration of my identity and a quest to find peace in the sea of white anonymous robes. I hate it, but I have to learn to let go of the idea that I am, somehow, too different to reach outside of myself - too good to settle for average, normal experience - too self-righteous to submit to eating disorder treatment and recovery. Maybe I am not "too special" or "too different" or "too good" for the experience of life. Maybe it is the belief that I am "too... whatever" that is preventing me from experiencing my body in this time and place in a fully wakened state.

Lesson for the week. What am I scared of in becoming "normal?" Why do I panic when I think about becoming nameless, and faceless? What is there in my arrogance that is protecting me, and shielding my ego from letting go into a state of truth and clarity? How do I even begin to put on my white robe, walk in the crowd, and find peace in my soul without being "set apart" somehow?

Until I find out, I'm sure the Universe will continue to throw messages in my direction. It's painful to get hit, but how else will I awake?