Lizard on my foot
One of the most enriching things I’m doing at the moment is a writing course, held in our humble courtyard with Alina. We are an intimate group, gathering with a shared curiosity and love for the written word.
As we were closing the session on one of the hottest days of the Summer so far, a lizard climbed onto my notebook. This is not usual behaviour for lizards in my experience. Usually they keep their distance. I watched him, he seemed keen to explore further. I sat very still and sure enough he started to climb onto my hand and up my arm. His little eyes were focused on the flies buzzing around me. I realised why he was climbing up me, to get a better chance of catching some lunch. I was slightly alarmed when I saw his smooth body coil ready to pounce. Would he get me instead? But of course, he was so tiny, the attack didn’t hurt. The fly got away. Sadly for both of us.
He stayed there, sitting on my arm for a little while. Alina was leading a closing meditation so everyone had their eyes closed, and as much as I wanted to exclaim ‘look!!’ I knew it wasn’t the time. And there was no point. This moment was for me and the lizard.
Eventually he went back to his regular lizard behaviour and skittered away across the hot red bricks.
In these writing circles we are given a topic to write about. She sets a five minute timer. The only rules are to not let the pen stop moving, dont delete anything and dont self-censor. Alina talked about the benefit of writing with pen and paper which I must admit is something I dont often do. These newsletters are typed out in the notes section of my laptop. She recommended writing the first draft by hand and it’s something I’m interested in exploring so watch this space. Apparently when we write with pen and paper we access more of our creative potential. The act of writing activates our brain in a different way and if you’re the kind of person who likes to know why, a quick google search bought up hundreds of articles about scientific studies that proof this theory.
It’s mind blowing what comes out in five minutes. After the writing exercise she asked us if we’d be willing to share our writing. The first time she asked I felt a flash of embarrassment. What I’ve written is so crap I thought. What will people think. I get a lot of these kind of self-critical, fear based thoughts and I’ve got better at not letting them lead, so even though I felt my heart beating fast in my chest, I got over myself and read the thing anyway.
What I loved the most was hearing other peoples stories. The other really important instruction was to not give feedback. The only word we were allowed to give in response to others writing was ‘thank you’. This created such safety and a lack of comparison. As Alina says, ‘comparison is spiritual suicide.’
Everyone’s voice is unique. Whether it comes out in song, or spoken word or writing, everyone’s voice is unique. And the constant message I’m getting is to write what’s in my heart. Not write what I think I should write. Let the words spill out and let my heart lead.
Thank you Alina for holding such beautiful space for us all.
Thank you to the group.
It’s the container, the sitting in the circle, the intentional lighting of a candle, the ritual and ceremony that is so transformational.
It’s not the ‘teaching’ but the ‘practice of it’ that really shifts things.
A friend said the other day ‘people only want the teaching. They dont want to do the practice’.
I feel this so deeply because I spend a lot of time stuck here too. I want the next teaching, the next course, the next book. Where I struggle is to actually do the practice and lately I’ve been much more intentional about ‘the doing’.
It can be challenging to stay committed to practices we know bring so much ease so ‘the sangha’ the group is so important.
In groups it’s the participation and connection that really stays with me. In all the workshops and teacher trainings I’ve ran, it’s the group dynamics that are the most powerful. It’s what people talk about the most. It’s what sets us free.