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“Hot and cold. Pain and Pleasure. Come and go. Come and go. Oh my Dear One, manage to endure them.” – Bhagavad Gita

 

Today, I do not feel whole, or in the flow, or joyful about anything.

Good things are not coming to me. At least that’s how it feels. Everything feels like an effort. An uphill slog. I feel burdened, angry, sad, teary. I find fault in everything. My feet hurt. I’m cold. I have zero reserves.

I just returned from two weeks in the land of eternal sunshine, in Mexico. Back to grey skies, a mountain of mail, phone messages that needed an immediate response (too late now), a dirty house, dirty laundry, dirty snow…

The house is cold. The fridge is empty, save for the assortment of unidentifible leftovers. My freshly-brewed coffee tastes old. My back is spassing after a fruitless attempt at installing a window shade. I’m ten pounds over my ideal weight. I feel sorry for myself. I’m sad for no particular reason. I just want to crawl in a hole and scream. Or cry. Or both.

What is this? I haven’t had a meltdown like this in ages. Am I allergic to New England? Are my hormones out of whack? Am I releasing (or resisting) some major stress that’s been building up inside me? Or tuning into some global crisis that hasn’t yet reached the news wire?

Am I on the verge of major breakthrough? Or breakdown?

Who knows.

I just know that I’m feel intensely yucky. Intense like the night before 9/11 when I sensed that something really bad was going to happen and I dreamed that I was being stabbed by a million knives.

Today’s experience isn’t so much a piercing, knife-like feeling. It’s more like a I’m-going-to-explode-any-second-if-nothing-changes feeling. My breathing is shallow and I feel hot as blazes. And I want to bawl my eyes out.

I’m sorry if you were hoping for something a little brighter (less charged, less toxic, less weird). I’m afraid I have no big wisdom to impart today. I just know that I’ve written a lot on the subject of “weather”: those unpleasant side-effects that naturally arise when we clear (thoughts, things…anything). Today I seem to be experiencing a rather major bout of it.

I’ll let you know what, if anything, is on the other side of this particular rough patch. Right now I’m doing what I usually do when I experience intense emotional weather, which is to feel the intensity as fully as I can handle it, identify exactly what it is I’m feeling, and try not to give the mind––which feeds on every molecule of drama––any room for commentary. I might also reach for my personal list of inspiring quotations. This one gives me comfort and some perspective today:

“Your resistance to change is likely to reach its peak when significant change is imminent.”–George Leonard

 

So here’s what I’m wondering…

  • How are the “meltdowns” in your life a sign that something new or big is trying to push through?
  • What happens immediately after the stormy patches subside? What’s it feel like?
  • What does your raw, messy, shadow self look and feel like?

Please think of this space as a safe container: If it would help you release some of the internal weather you might be experiencing, I invite you to express [download, vent, noodle, name and feel…] in the comment box below. Notice if you feel different after you press the “submit” button.

Thanks for your be-ing. I feel better already…

[…calmer, less clammy, softer, less gaspy, less explosive, fuller breathing, less weepy, tired…]
Showing 11 comments
  • Sandra Gulland
    Reply

    Dear Stephanie,

    Crawl into bed with:

    1) a heat pad

    2) magazines and a pile of books

    3) a hot milk or toddy.

    You’re simply in Real Life shock.

    My best,

    Sandra (in post Conference shock)

  • Stephanie Bennett Vogt
    Reply

    Awww, thanks Sandra. Can I make that a Margarita instead of a toddy?
    Saludos, Stephanie

  • Nancy G. Shapiro
    Reply

    Hola Spirit Sister…ah, dear one. It sounds like you’re in the middle of being messy…cluttered with emotions, an American version of the ‘turistas’…remember our lunch on the rooftop, the light, the breeze, the salsa, the connection, and know that ‘this too shall pass.’ Look in your email…I’ll send along an essay about the same thing, and how I ‘weathered’ it…rather messily, yet it passed. Sandra’s advice is excellent. love, nancy

  • Stephanie Bennett Vogt
    Reply

    I SO do remember the light, the breeze, the salsa, the connection! What a spectacular day it was. What a great image too: emotional “turistas” is a perfect way to describe this last bout I had….which moved through as quickly as I could write it all down. Self-revealing “meltdowns” go with the territory of what I do for a living. Not always pleasant, but it always seems that the space and the people who occupy the space are lighter (brighter, clearer, more balanced) after some soulful and unattached off-gassing.

  • Gina Hyams
    Reply

    I don’t feel terrible this morning, but I do identify with the harsh transition from San Miguel to New England…we just flew back last night. I’m grateful that there is a blue sky over the Berkshires today, if a pale and wintry one. Back in the land of snow, white people, excellent water pressure…

  • sfauthor
    Reply

    Nice posting. Do you know about this edition of the Gita?

    http://www.YogaVidya.com/gita.html

  • Jane-Singing Deer
    Reply

    Hello, dear Tree Sister!

    I had to drop by for a visit, after receiving your email (and I’m honored that you “came by” my place, in your quest for … whatever you might need). I’m on a journey myself right now, and shadows are most certainly weaving on the horizon. All feels good, at the moment, but — oh, more life transitions are in the near future, and the big question mark about where home truly lies (but of course I know that home is here and now, con mi familia, wherever we are). I do want to say, that last weekend, my husband and I made a significant decision that caused a lot of emotional eruption in my extended family. It threatened to suck me into it (I hate having family be upset with me!). But my husband and I reviewed the decision, and decided again that it was sound … and … when we disengaged the whole thing from emotion, it was so clearly sensible, something anyone might do–and had a right to do. So we took deep breaths, and responded to all our communication from that place of disengagement from the emotion … and all was well. The weather system passed — quickly! And relationships resumed their loving tenor.
    I realized what working with YOUR SPACIOUS SELF has done for me: that I can now recognize the weather (even when I’m caught up in it), and feel it as much as I can bear … and then … at some point … I’m able to get into that quiet place where I can find my feet on simple ground. I just want to treasure that realization I had, when I saw how simple it truly was, to eventually see that clear ground amidst all the stuff swirled up, and then to just step into that place and disengage from the turmoil — and to *know* that I didn’t have to leap back into it. Finding that simple, spacious place may not always be a quick process, but I have faith now, that it can be found. What a powerful experience for me. Thank you, Stephanie! And of course, this post reminds me that we are never immune to meltdowns, but that they do often signal a transition to a new place in ourselves.

    Gracias, mi amiga!
    Jane

  • Lisa Whittemore MacDonnell
    Reply

    Hi Steph,
    What a lovely expression of the lows..I appreciated it greatly, having experienced much of my own individual versions. I’m sorry your re-entry was difficult this go-round. You’ve got to be tough to live here in NE, and as I soften, I like it less and less, myself.
    My heart is with you…good piece of writing.
    Lis

  • Patti
    Reply

    Thank you for this! I had these feelings over the Holiday weekend. It is uncomfortable to experience, but it is comforting to know that it will pass (weather) – Will something positive happen next? Most likely.

    I received this quote via email:
    Every positive change–every jump to a higher level of energy and awareness–involves a rite of passage. Each time to ascend to a higher rung on the ladder of personal evolution, we must go through a period of discomfort, of initiation. I have never found an exception. -Dan Millman

    • Stephanie Bennett Vogt
      Reply

      Wow. I LOVE this quote by Dan Millman, Patti! Thank you so much for sharing it and for your comment about your bumpy “weather” weekend! May you be on the other side of it!

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