14
February 2024
Self-Love
Wisdom Healing Qigong
Poetry
Self-Love: A Path To Freedom
Last Saturday was the final monthly seminar with my Wisdom Healing Qigong teacher, Master Mingtong Gu, for the Living Tao mentorship program I’ve been involved in during the past year. The theme Mingtong presented at our meeting was “self-love as a path to freedom.”
I wasn’t having a good day. I’d been experiencing strange physical symptoms that had continued on and off during our day long gathering. And, since I’ve chosen not to continue on with the mentorship at this time, I was already missing those with whom I’d developed such a deep connection, even though I was continuing with the Qigong For Life Mastery program I’ve been part of for almost eight years.
At one point, Mingtong invited each of us to share what self-love means to us. I get extremely nervous speaking spontaneously in a large group situation on Zoom. I’m much better with small groups, and better yet with writing, where I can revise and edit and make sure that what comes out is intelligible. When it was my turn to speak, my heart began to race, and my mind turned into a jumble of brainfog, words flying and tumbling over themselves. In those situations, I often have no idea what will come out of my mouth until it does. And I wasn’t exactly in a space of self-love. But somehow, in a mist of uncertainty, I got through it, and shortly afterwards, we broke for lunch.
The minute I got off Zoom, I dissolved into tears, moving through a myriad of feelings. They weren’t about what others might think of me, or anger at myself for messing up, but about the intense discomfort of the out-of-control mental murkiness I experienced. It felt terrifying, along with the fact that on and off for several weeks, I’d been struggling with feelings of close-heartedness, toward myself, and towards others. I had learned a long time ago that I can only give as much love as I feel toward myself. It’s always an inside job. Whatever face I put forward outwardly is a reflection of what I’m feeling within. And lately although unexpressed, I’d become aware of annoyance and judgement, and even envy of those around me so easily radiating Light.
Self-love has never been an easy thing for me. I was not taught to love myself. I was taught the opposite. From the day I was born, I was a disappointment to my father who had his heart set on a son. When he was told he had a healthy little girl, his response was, “Are you sure?” As I grew, his disappointment in me shaped my self-image, and my teenage years especially were extremely challenging. Among other things, he called me a “selfish good for nothing.” Not exactly a blueprint for self-acceptance.
It was also a pattern with certain people in my family that I was close with to assess my physical appearance and express their opinions. They liked or didn’t like a new hair style, certain clothes, etc. My mother was always telling me to “stand up straight.” My aunt once gently pinched the tip of my nose with her thumb and first finger, saying, “just a little off the end.”
But, even as I write this, please know that these memories no longer have any “charge.” There’s still sadness, and a new compassion for that long ago me that was in so much pain, but, along my inner journey, I’ve been able to heal most of these things both within myself and with family as well. How many years can one sit in her “shrink’s” office re-living the same sorry story, blaming her father for everything wrong in her life. There came a point on my path when I began to understand that I had choice, that even self-love was a choice. And that I also had a very real part in creating my own experiences.
For me, however, self-love is a continual practice of becoming aware of what is not self-love, and remembering that I can choose something different. It’s being gentle with feeling the feelings, utilizing my energetic tool kit, even offering soft words, often out loud, of reassurance — You’ve come a long way, Rachelle. You’re doing great! This, too, shall pass. I love you. And I’m getting pretty good at embracing both the ordinary and the remarkable things about this me.
I can also say that on many occasions, I have known the kind of freedom devoid of definition, true feelings of Haola! All Is Well. It happens in those vast moments when there are no thoughts of anything that is not self-love, no thoughts at all. Moments when I spontaneously laugh out loud. Moments that fill me with silent wonder, marveling at the taste of strawberry or the subtle dazzle of a leaf’s uncurl. Moments of being deeply moved by music, poetry, theatre, dance, what I call “Great Art.” Moments of expansive Oneness.
Today is Valentine’s Day, a day when thoughts turn to small “el” love, and I find myself venturing back through times when the dream of romance was at my center, early times when, looking back, I realized that I didn’t even know what love was. Times I defined myself by what others thought of me, always looking outside myself for the kind of mutually loving, honoring, accepting relationship I fantasized about. It took a long while to understand that everything I was looking for from another was within me, and that until I embraced myself with love, honor, and acceptance, I could never truly find it anywhere else.
My romantic journey has taken me down many adventures — three marriages, three interdimensional affairs du coeur, (two that I’ve written about in my memoir Rare Atmosphere: An Inter-dimensional Affair of the Heart), several karmic relationships, a few superficial intimacies, and now a time when I’m content with living alone, at seventy-seven beyond the desire for romance, now learning to embrace wherever life leads me.
Over the decades, I’ve woven my deepest feelings into a tapestry of prose and poetry, to lovers real and imagined, to longings for what has been or would never be, and finally, to my self.
WAITING (2005)
If I had known you
when my skin was smooth as summer
and a man would lose the hour
in its caress, when my hair swung wild
in copper ribbons that begged
to be undone, I would have lain with you
in sunlight by a callow stream, content
with passion easy spent.
My hair grown vintage as a silver
wind, this body marked by longitudes
of time, if I could know you now,
I’d sway you sweet and slow,
unfolding autumn round
beneath this moon.
LEGATO (2008)
I think about Beethoven,
the Ninth especially,
how it deepens possibility,
dares to become more yet more,
how, if the maestro heard it played with outer ears
it might have shriveled him to bone —
the divine rarely translates to the earthly undistorted —
and I find the slide
of my own imaginings
grown too used to
your whisper
insubstantial as
an echoed wind
wondering if we’ll
find perfect cadence,
or fade into elegy,
too grand for a tone-deaf world.
VALENTINE TO MY SELF AT 75 (2021)
A rose still has thorns,
Svelt bod’s gone to hell,
Yet the inner allurement
is awesome, ma belle.
12 Comments
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Dear Sister Rachelle,
Your words have a way of reaching me deep inside….to my core. The courage you have to lay yourself bare….is an inspiration. Your poetry is beautiful and I feel transported into a world of awareness and ‘seeing’. Your authentic sharing opens me up to a feeling of connectedness with you and the universal human condition…..we all have these fears, insecurities and at the same time we shine with our own unique sparkle and light. Thank you for the gift you be!
Thanks dear Shel, for always understanding, and for your support of me writing about the deep and often difficult stuff. Big Love ❤️
Dearest Rachelle, My sister of the soul. Our journeys through time seem endless and full of awareness. The self-awareness has been a thing I have found somewhat challenging at times but most definitely enlightening!
You are a beautiful friend, rich in wisdom, and words and love and humor. Thank you for being a light for me.
There is a lot to say about deep friendships that no limit of time constrains. I love you deeply and endlessly.
Dear Soul Sister, we’ve journeyed together for many decades. I trust you with my deepest secrets. You are a blessing in my life, and I lovelovelove you. ❤️
Greatly enjoyed your articulate thoughts on self-love and how even the most casual remarks in our formative years, noting we are somehow “less than” a subjective norm, a collective ideal, will leave scars lasting decades. Our salvation, as you observe, is to find peace within ourselves; to embrace limitations and find lessons (and solace) in flaws. I forget the attribution, but wisdom rings true in the following quote: “Comparison is the thief of joy.”
The upside of getting older, at least for me, is that I care a lot more about being who I really am, than I do about what others think of me. As long as I’m kind, I’m okay with being thought a little weird. Love to you and Richard.
Rachelle: I enjoyed this very much. I am grateful to know you and call you a friend and a chi sister. I look forward to continuing to connect with you. As I state frequently after any of your sharings, I love your intelligence, your wit, your presence, your essence, ‘all of you’. Cheryl
Cheryl, my Shining Chi Sister, thanks for reading. And for seeing “all of me,” something I don’t always see in myself. ❤️
Loved the poetry, you are a master of words poetic
Thanks for being a poetry reader, chérie. Not everyone gets that far. Ha. xo
To my sister of the heart,
We met in our silver years. May we continue to go from strength to strength, even when we sometimes feel weak.
Love on this valentines day and every day after,
Cathy
Dearest Cathy. Thank you for your beautiful words. With deep appreciation and love for all you do and all you Be. 💕