Posts Tagged with waking up

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no longer, not yet

I have arrived — ripe — with both feet dancing in this place of no longer and not yet. I am making friends with uncertainty. Listening deeply. Loving enormously. Wrapping myself in vulnerability and answering yes. I’m bathing in transformation — rediscovering how to be soft and wise, curious and strong. My eyes are shining and my breath is deep. With courage as my companion, I’m ready to celebrate my full being again. No more silence to protect another’s comfort zone. My heart is alive, and my voice is my own.

— heidi kalyani, 2018 
from the *nothing is black and white* project: illustration created out of meditation with a single unbroken line

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waking up

In this shut-tight sealed-in half-asleep state in the first rays of light, my limbs ache from gripping, my brain aches from looping, my heart aches from lack of air. In the darkness that surrounds me, with the blankets pulled up high, I can believe anything — the world is on fire, I live in a house made of ice, my siblings are four-legged, my hair is olive green, no one is starving, we’re all starving. And what I believe (or don’t believe) becomes my reality. It etches itself into my still-impressionable being and colours how my day unfolds. Alone, in this cocoon of a bed, as I wrap myself in imaginings, in futuristic predictions, in half-digested memories, I enter into a powerful transition, an emerging from the other side, the swirling fog of a half opened/half closed mind, the daily practice of awakening.

— heidi kalyani, 2018 
from the *nothing is black and white* project: illustration created out of meditation with a single unbroken line

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longing

Your eyes are burning with a longing most of us are afraid to see — we turn away, drown in distraction, pretend it’s imaginary, try to protect our own disappointment with the way things are. Your longing is a fire that emits intense heat. It’s raw and visceral and inflames each draw of breath so that you gasp on your inhales and pour out great plumes of fire on your exhales. It’s a longing for wholeness, for depth, for connection, for a kind of beauty you thought was natural until you were taught that no one else believed it was true. But I believe in it. And I’ve been dreaming of finding you. As I drift into sleep, lie on warm grass gazing at clouds, or scratch words into a notebook as fast as my hand will allow, I whisper softly to the universe, “I am here! I am alive! I want to build a new world with you!”

— heidi kalyani, 2017 
from the *nothing is black and white* project: illustration created out of meditation with a single unbroken line

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more being, less doing

 

I’ve stopped asking myself “what do I want to *do* today?” and started asking myself “how do I want to *be* today?” For me, *being* is much richer, more fulfilling, more enlivening — and a lot less pressure! When I’m *being*, each moment is filled with raw, open-hearted curiosity, with a wonder that is fire and serenity together, with a knowing that is unconditional, eternal and all encompassing. *Being* is when I am truly at home, fully myself, and entirely at peace. It’s a state so powerful, that when I commit to it (with gentleness, so that it doesn’t appear on any to-do lists, or in any well-intentioned self-improvement schemes), it transforms all of my *doing* into magical, compassionate gifts that amaze me with their honesty, their integrity and their infinite wisdom.

— heidi kalyani, 2017 
from the *nothing is black and white* project: illustration created out of meditation with a single unbroken line

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breaking open

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Today I am a volcano. I am spewing energy, like lava, all over everything. I already set my house on fire. Now I’m making my way through the woods, sparking powerful jolts of flame with every footfall. I leave burn marks on the road. I evaporate puddles from last night’s rain. I overheat the air, causing insects to rise higher to escape me. I am heading for the water, where I hope to temporarily contain my eruptions by throwing myself in. I need a pause in the intensity and speed of these sensations, these revelations. Like this, I’m burning a millennium of fuel every microsecond. Khalil Gibran wrote, “Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding.” My shell is broken. And understanding is beginning to illuminate everything.

— heidi kalyani, 2016
from the *nothing is black and white* project: illustration created out of meditation with a single unbroken line

 

 

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letting go of spinning

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Today, I am waking up — literally. I’m taking a long slow breath that fills both my stomach and my chest to full capacity. And then I’m letting it go… all of it. The expectations, the doubts, the regrets… all the parts of myself that are whirling endlessly without actually going anywhere. The parts that echo a turntable stuck in the static after the music has ended. Or a tire that spins and spins on the ice, burning energy without moving the car forward. If I’m going to be dizzy, I’d like to at least enjoy the journey — by dancing, by exploring the body of a lover, or by learning something new at the speed of a hundred-foot waterfall! I’m tired of the ache in the pit of my stomach, the shallow breath that makes me feel fragile and barely alive, the clumsy unsteadiness that causes me to drop things or bang my hands into hard objects that seem to appear out of nowhere. I’m breathing in again, filling myself with oxygen, with the energy of the present moment, with the lightness of *now*. And breathing out all of the disquieting distractions of my pain (which is all in the past) and anxiety (which is all about the future). In *this* moment, I am fine. I’m better than fine. I’m strong and whole and my heart’s on fire! There is no past, no future. Only this perfectly imperfect moment.

— heidi kalyani, 2016
from the *nothing is black and white* project: illustration created out of meditation with a single unbroken line

 

 

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resisting conformity

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I’ve always been resistant to conformity. Usually because I feel like the socially accepted conventions or standards to which I’m meant to conform are all the wrong shape for me. It’s a little like trying to fit into ready-made or off-the-rack clothing rather than making my own or having it custom made by an attentive tailor. What kind of society expects everyone to be comfortable in one-size-fits-all social norms? Yes, social norms provide order (and I sometimes think that’s a good thing!), but they also strip us of individuality and creativity of expression by shunning and outcasting those who cannot, or choose not, to conform. A few years ago (I’m not quite sure when as it crept up on me like a morning fog), I got tired of struggling against conformity, and somehow started “behaving” myself. Started pretending that I fit in. Started to down-play or abandon my most “freakish” non-conforming traits. Started quelling my “radical/outlandish/weird” desires. And how did it make me feel? Oppressed, small, bland, listless, asleep. In the fifteenth century, mystic poet Kabir wrote, “You have slept for millions and millions of years. Why not wake up this morning?” Thank you, Kabir. I just did!

— heidi kalyani, 2016
from the *nothing is black and white* project: illustration created out of meditation with a single unbroken line