Unlearning what you’ve learned. Forgetting who thought you were. That is what yoga and meditation have been about for me lately. Each time I unwind from an eagle pose or detoxifying twist, I’m wringing something out that no longer belongs.
Letting go, though, isn’t easy. When it’s something inside of you, that has been there for years, it’s difficult to let go. Even those things that you know aren’t good for you.
It’s funny, but those things — the not so good things — are the ones sometimes we cling to the most. We refuse to let go even if they limit our happiness. We don’t let them go because it means we have to change or become vulnerable in some way. Sometimes it’s just easier to hold on … but it usually isn’t better.
As we grow up, we start to develop an idea of who we are. Our place in the world. Sometimes, though, we don’t always develop a clear sense of ourselves. The image gets twisted somehow or part of it is left behind.
Now, I’ve always been a responsible, practical, dependable adult. Those are perfectly good qualities, but I have molded my life into those characteristics. Made choices based on those characteristics. Part of me has suffered because of that.
Today, I did a yoga practice about “emptying the breath, emptying our old stories and wringing out old waste in body, thoughts, and actions.” It did exactly that. I really focused on thoughts I have about myself and realized I needed to let some things go.
The way I define myself limits my perspective on life … and how I live my life. I always make practical choices. Responsible choices. I’m not free like I want to be — like the child I was at 5. I’m wrapped up tight.
During my meditation afterward, I began to let some things go that came up during yoga. I also embraced some parts of me that had become nearly extinct. I asked myself what I wanted to be as if I were an adult talking to a child.
So, here comes the wild part. In my meditative state, with all limitations eliminated and anything is possible, what is it that I want to be?
Well, of course, I want to be a witch. To be honest, at the very core of me, I have always wanted to be a witch.
Yes, I realize how that sounds. I’ll just say it for you. Crazy as batshit. That’s exactly the reason I have to say it. Here’s why.
For my entire life, in the back of my mind, I have always had this fantasy of being a witch. Always and forever. But, I have never once voiced that out loud. Never. Not even as a kid. Is there a deeper story there? Probably so. Still, when I realized that I had never uttered the words, it upset me.
Growing up, I had so many witchcraft books (only good, natural magic, mind you). I studied magic. I tried practicing it. I kind of thought I had some powers sometimes. I bought weird clothes. I was excited every time a new Pyramid Collection catalog came to my house. I even collected them. Poured over them for days.
Why those came to my house, I do not know. No one else in my family was into that stuff, and this is before the internets arrived.
The truth is that I wanted to be natural, free. I wanted to work with nature and develop potions to help people. I wanted to heal trees and save injured squirrels. I wanted to be magical. I wanted to be a witch.
Truth is, in a limitless world, I still do.
When I realized that I never said that to anyone, though, I cried. As an adult, OK, maybe I understand not blurting that out. But as a 5-year-old or even a 10-year-old, yeah, I should have been able to do that. I should have screamed it at the top of my lungs. But I never did. Not once.
Such an insignificant piece of information, but even that I kept locked away.
It was silly. Ridiculous. I was embarrassed to say it. Honestly, I still am, and I shouldn’t be. I have denied part of myself, part of my personality, my entire life because of who I told myself I am. Practical. Responsible. This image I have of myself — that I present to the world.
Unlearning what you’ve learned.
Truth be told, there is nothing wrong with that thought — with wanting to be a witch, not even at my age. But, I feel conflicted about saying it. I feel ashamed … or I did when I first started writing this. I should never feel ashamed of being who I am or having the thoughts that I have. But I am.
It breaks my heart, honestly, that the wild child, nature lover part of me was never fully ingrained into my being. It’s probably the best part of me, to be honest. But it has been a part of me without being a part of me. It lives in my journal and never sees the light of day.
That was my entire being when I was a kid. She’s tucked away and forgotten.
So, that’s what I’m letting go now. That’s what yoga and meditation helped me do today … or at least helped me recognize and begin to do. I’m releasing the negative feelings I have about my ideas, my dreams, my personality. I’m releasing the embarrassment around things that don’t fit the picture of who I think I am and who I’m supposed to be.
I’m releasing the shame of being me. My weird, witch-dreaming self.
On the other hand, I want to bring that little wild child of me out of the dark some. I’m not sure how I’m going to do that just yet, but she has a lifetime to catch up on. I’m going to start making a list of things I love, no matter how crazy they may sound, and find ways to incorporate them back into my life. And I’m not going to be ashamed of it anymore.
I’m going to unlearn what I’ve learned and remember who I am. I hope you can do the same.
This is a new idea I’m going to test out here from time to time. I’m going to add a Meditation Moment or some Gratitude To Go from my own practice. I’m hoping it will simply serve as a springboard for your own meditations or a little gratitude pick-me-up if you’re feeling down. It’s nothing more than that.
Today, I asked myself to meditate on things that I wanted to let go and ways to reconnect with who I am. Here’s what my mind’s eye shared with me:
I face the sun set, the sky deep orange and gold. My green velvet dress reflects the richness of the field around me. A vibrant world wraps me in warmth and comfort.
I slip my right hand gently into my chest and retrieve a handful of black sand. These things that have darkened my heart, I raise to my lips and blow them to the wind. I watch their strange path — like starlings in flight. Drifting, beautiful and graceful, until they gradually disappear on the horizon.
The sun warms my face. My spirit is lighter. Now I am the magic I was meant to be.