"The inward battle-against our mind, our wounds, and the residues of the past-is more terrible than the outward battle."
-Swami Sivananda
There is a part of me that I don't know what to do with. It's ugly, mean, closed down and scared-like a shadow on my shoulder when I've been triggered. Like a demon, whispering in my ear. It thinks horrible thoughts and says terrible things. It makes the nice side of me cower and run. It hates people and situations, events and even life with a vengeance, and it wants to make everyone around me miserable. When it's not rearing its ugly head, I think maybe it's gone away, and I live happily, like it never existed. If I could, I would avoid all situations that bring this part of me to life. After all, the history of my life is made up of running from pain, so why not? But that's not an option anymore, because what triggers me most is partnership. It is not an option for me to run anymore, to blame others anymore and to shut others out. It's not an option to be hurtful and destructive, to be pushed and prodded by anger and fear. I find myself in a panic, wedged between the need for intimacy and growth and the dread of what it means to open up and to let someone in. Relationship, intimacy and trust, three of the most beautiful things in the world are what bring out the worst of the worst in me.
There are moments when my life flashes before me and I can see every pattern I have repeated. In those moments, I can also see that it is deeply ingrained in me to repeat that pattern again. Everything inside me, especially the demon on my shoulder, is telling me that repeating the pattern would be better and more comfortable, because that's all I know. There are moments when my life, my parent's lives, my grandparent's lives, and the lives of all my ancestors seem to taunt me into believing that these aspects of myself are too deep to change. My mind becomes jumbled in questions, scanning my past, scanning myself, looking for answers. Was I born this way? Was it my family? Was it my decisions? Was it my partners? In truth, all of these things make up who I am, and so all of these things have brought me to this moment of questioning. But if I had one person or one event to blame my problems on, would that make a difference? No. I would still be here-faced with the demon inside, and faced with the desperation for something different. Whatever the reason for my anger and fear, whoever was a part of instilling it in my psyche, it is my responsibility to move beyond it. It is my duty to change.
Even after years of examining this side of myself, I am living in limbo. One insight at a time, I gain understanding. One day at a time I see more clearly what my patterns are. Layer by layer I move through what's holding me back and making me unhappy. I let go, I pray, I exercise, I meditate. I talk to friends, I ask advice. I talk to therapists and I talk to my husband. I am realizing that hiding my demons never makes them shrink or disappear. Although exposing the ugly side of myself is the last thing in the world I want to do, I know that I need to talk about it to get it out. If I don't talk about the way my demons are making me feel, then they will live and breed in my heart, talking about all the ways in which they will burst out some day. In the holding in and the stuffing of resentment, in the denial of seemingly silly fears, in the pushing away of closeness and love, I only ever made myself less of a person.
So I start with a commitment not to bottle things up. My demons don't like this-they want to stay inside my heart and my head, running my life. I take a deep breath and consciously relax, consciously accept life just the way it is...and then I hear a nagging voice say, "Stay tense. Stay on guard. Anger is necessary. Fear is protecting you. Never trust anyone." Sometimes I listen to that voice and hold on to unhappiness. Sometimes I don't. It is always my choice. Every day when I wake up, I choose to continue seeking the peace that I have not yet found, and moment by moment I make decisions that may not be easy, but that I know are better for me and for my family. The paradox is that all the while, as I live on the faith that one day things will change, things are already changing. Maybe I will be angry and sad forever, maybe I will be triggered at every level of intimacy that I hit-there is no way for me to know. I am moving blindly forward, out of pattern, out of comfort. I have ceased asking "why do I have these problems?" and turned my focus instead to making better decisions in tough moments, having intentions for a better life and envisioning the kind of person I would like to be.
Our fears may differ, but our lashing out is the same. Like wild animals, we hiss or hide, run or fight, pretending that we can control our fears by controlling our environment. Our anger may be triggered by different circumstances, but its affect is the same. Whether it happens in a lifetime or in a day, a closed heart will either implode or explode when the demons surface, causing destruction within and without. Something, at some point will push each of us against a wall and give us an option to change. Every one of us is faced with moments that make us look within and ask, 'Is the pain of repetition finally worse than the pain of growth?"
"Suffering makes an instrument of each of us,
so that standing naked, holes and all,
the unseen vitalities can be heard
through our simplified lives."
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