Helping Others by Helping Yourself

Dec 4

I am a wheel spinning and as we connect, like a clock cog, I've sent you off spinning, and as you connect with the next you spin them too, and so it goes, all of us spinning each other in this extremely interconnected world.

Think of a simple interaction. Somebody holds the door open for you and you smile and say thank you, slightly surprised and pleasantly surged from just a brief flash of kindness and the next person you see you long to smile at as well, maybe you say something nice to them.

Pay it forward.

Treats others how you'd like to be treated.

People are people.

We all matter. We are all absolutely extraordinary and are capable of greatness. We are inherently unique and incredible creatures with a capacity far beyond where we usually strive.

Together, we are one. Truly. No division from the carbon, oxygen, nitrogen and hydrogen, the swirling cosmic skies of the vast and uncharted universe.

I believe that by first helping yourself, you, by sheer common sense, are automatically set up to organically treat others in your life better. You need a wealth of emotional reserve to give to needy, annoying or aggravating people. We need patience. We need perspective to be able to view them from the lens of compassion.

When we see red, it is nearly impossible to remove ourselves from the immediate burning rush of hatred, of violence, of anguish, of war. Anger.

I came to yoga slowly through a journey to discover more about my anger. My rage. My brooding silence. My spiraling self-destruction. My angst.

I did not come to this practice as a peaceful person, but that was certainly what I was seeking: peace.

Freedom. Liberation. A feeling of lightness.

Nobody can give you the inner experience of boundless freedom and peace. You must learn how to attain this for yourself. We need each other desperately, but we are all ultimatey individuals, on this journey, born and departed completely alone.

We must locate and sink into that part of us that wisps away from the body when we are no longer living. That whoosh of life. Where did it go? What was it, anyway? Energy? Spirit? What was next?

When you are not raised in fear to forcefully believe in dogma or else, you are able to objectively consider death and the root murmurings of the unknown.

Why are we here? How are we here? Is there a greater power leading us? If so, who? And how?

What comes after this life? What is the meaning of this life? What am I to do with this life?

A young boy of four points to the bright blue sky and asks his grandmother why the sky is blue. She says, "That's just the way God made it."

Plausible perhaps, but also a distinct stopping point of inquiry. Ask no further questions child, all of the answers have been supplied.