Letting Myself Fall Apart (for the next two weeks)

There are some things I'm having a hard time believing...

1. Someone actually likes me.  And I don't mean in a oh she's cute kinda way.  I mean in a real, deep, let's build our lives together, unconditional kinda way.
2. I'm capable of eating Kitchari for two weeks.
3. 6am asana, pranayama, and meditation can happen everyday.  The same goes for 8pm asana, pranayama, and mediation.
4. An impressive bank account balance is possible.

All irrational I know.  But things that have been swimming through my mind lately nonetheless.  

I started what will be my third cleanse with Cate a few days ago and I'm right smack in the middle of that everything is pouring out of me period and I have a sense it's only going to get worse.

In past detoxes my intentions have always been very bodily orientated.  Lose the weight.  Get rid of the ama.  Heal my skin.  Change my eating habits.

Which was all important and needed to happen least I become surgically attached to my carton of Ben & Jerry's.  But all that overweight, outta whack body stuff was due to much deeper things.  Imagine that.

And while I've kicked a lot of those thoughts out there's one that seems to be deeply engrained.  One that links all four of those above points together.  And that's a deep seated feeling of unworthiness.  Not worthy of true love (1), not worthy of self care (2), not worthy of a relationship with God (3), not worthy of success (4).

I could speculate, and blame, and whine about where it came from.  I could over analyze every relationship and experience I've ever had.  Which I've done during the three years I was in therapy and the two I was in graduate school and had to draw my family genogram so many times I can now do it blindfolded with my arms tied behind my back.

But none of that matters.  What matters is that I let that faulty thinking go.  That I finally pick up the record needle and move it to a new groove for the love of God and all that is holy.  Something that's proving harder than I imagined.  

Cognitively I know those things to be untrue.  I understand that I have value and worth.  That love just is.  That somehow people and God and stuff just loves me.  I don't have to be the Valedictorian.  

But really feeling that.  Letting it happen.  Living in a way that honors that.  Yeah no so much.

Which is why I'm drinking ghee and eating rice and taking herbs for the next two weeks.  So I can practice at it.  So I can remember my true fearfully and wonderfully made nature.  So I can tap the needle to a new groove.  

But writing a new story hurts.  Stuff comes up and out and before you know it you're crying because you had to sit at a dinner table and converse with perfectly lovely people-the horror.  Or you're pissed because you can only find whole mung beans instead of split the jerks!  Or, or, or.

And as annoying and silly and usually inopportune as those feelings are I know they're what need to come out.  

I know I need to let myself really lie broken in a pile on my yogi dorm room floor.  So that's what I'm going to do.  I'm going to let whatever happen, happen.  I'm going to feel it so I can heal once and for all.

Heaven help Brian and everyone else who lives in Driggs. ;)

XO,
Sara