Happy Spring

When I started this project, it was fall. Now it's nearly March, and in my part of the world the light is changing, the ground is thawing, and I'm beginning to exhale a little of winter's long in-breath. I've never spent much time in parts of the world where the seasons don't change like they do in New England. For me, fall and spring have always been transitional times, both in the natural world and in my own being. In the summer, I relax more deeply and feel more content than at any other time. And in the winter, I seriously hunker down- literally in my bed. But spring and fall ask for activity, ask for movement; they give permission to make changes, to end and begin things, to actively seek what will enrich our lives and bring us closer to ourselves. When I was younger, I loved summer the best. I could have stayed in the warm contentment of those long, friend-filled days forever. But as I come more and more fully into my adulthood, I find that the transitional months thrill me the most. It's comforting to know that I am still fluid, that my life is still- and will always be- taking shape.

This weekend, I am packing up my house and moving. And I am starting a new job and applying to graduate school! I've been corresponding with a psychic and making new friends. I'm giving away lots and lots of stuff, and I'm finalizing my divorce. There are lots of endings happening, but somehow in the spring, it's easy to feel them as changes- changes that are making room for all the right things, whatever they may be.

Kidney the Great and the Geet

Dear Sass,
I feel stuck and angry- I have to complete graduate school to get the degree I have been working towards, even though I feel like I have outgrown most of what the program has to offer me. I do not like my teachers, (I only have two) and especially consider one of them to be an incompetent, self-serving and manipulative person. I spend a great deal of time angry over the fact that this person is in a position of power over me, that he will ultimately approve or deny my thesis, and could possibly hamper my future career options if I do not maintain a civil attitude towards him. I also spend a lot of time angry with myself for dwelling on how much I despise him. Normally in a situation like this I would simply try to get out of it and look for better environments to be in. However, because of the commitment I have made to finishing this degree I just have to deal with it for six more months. I used to speak my mind and tell him when I disagreed, but I no longer feel I can do that without blowing up. So, I am now in a state where I basically shut myself down so as not to have to interact, which is another way I am letting him control me. How do I proceed for the next six months without being dominated by my anger?

Thanks for any advice you can give.
Kidney

Dear Kidney,

It takes strength and courage to give voice to hard, uncomfortable feelings and experiences without tying it all up by saying, "but it's ok, I'm fine". Sometimes it's totally not ok, and I think that one of the healthiest things we can do is fully acknowledge when that's the case. Thanks for giving such a clear and beautiful example of what that looks like.

You are powerful, mighty, intelligent, and creative. If you don't already have a daily affirmation practice, I recommend starting one along those lines. Let it be a mantra. Say it whenever you remember to. So many of the structures within which we find ourselves relating to others are based on bogus power differentials that leave us feeling disappointed and angry, disempowered and inadequate. And so often in order to be "successful" within those structures, we feel we have to abandon parts of ourselves, or at least put them away for a little while.  

I recently had the privilege of attending a seminar on the Bhagavad Gita, which I skimmed through when I was fifteen and everything Eastern seemed subversive and cool but have never given a serious reading to. The Geet (which everyone at this seminar called it, like Buch instead of Kombucha) begins with a conversation between Krishna and the warrior Arjuna, who is struggling with the question of whether or not to kill his enemies in war when those enemies are also his family members. Krishna begins by saying something along the lines of, "don't be so silly and self-important. We are all perfect, eternal, and whole. You couldn't kill another being even if you wanted to, since this body we're all inhabiting at the moment is disposable anyway and our true selves are eternal. Do your duty now, which involves defending your kingdom- that's your path." That's interesting, but doesn't sit very well with me- being a person who values highly the specific individual embodied experience, however fleeting. What really got me excited was when Krishna says that while it's ok morally for Arjuna to kill his enemies (since he's not really killing them anyway) it may not be very wise, for he'll just be postponing the deeper resolution that the situation is asking for. In other words, if Arjuna kills his enemies, they will surely meet in another life. And the next time around, his enemies will seek revenge and will probably kill him, and so on and so on for lifetimes. The teacher of the seminar summarized by saying the following: If we're all in it together forever and ever and ever, let's stop with the hurting each other and do something really cool!

So there's that. . . and I guess why I'm sharing it now is that it might be interesting to think about being in your situation in (at least) the following two ways: 1.) This is a truly unfortunate and disappointing experience that is unique and will be over in six months. Take excellent care of yourself in all of the ways that you can, empower yourself every day in whatever small ways that you can, stand up for those things that you feel you can stand up for and be incredibly patient and forgiving of yourself in those times when you choose not to confront an issue as it arises. Remind yourself often that this person's power is illusory, however much it impacts your daily life at present- you are the sole actor in your life- this guy is just an unfortunate extra. Continue to reach out to friends, ask for tons of support and encouragement. 2.) This specific experience contains the elements of a crucial conflict that you are being asked to address and resolve. You will probably continue to encounter it in various guises throughout this, and if your belief system allows, many lifetimes to come. The reason you are encountering it is that as you engage and resolve various layers of this conflict, you will reach fuller and richer expressions of yourself. So follow all recommendations above, but additionally ask yourself: what do I have the opportunity to address this time? what can I transform, however small, so that the next time I encounter this challenge it will be a little bit easier?

I will be thinking of you in the coming months, sending you love and support. Please keep me posted on how things go.

Sincerely,

Sass

Loving the Old and Letting in the New

Dear Sass

Are the old friends really better than the friends to be? It sure feels that way and it leaves me feeling stuck. And lonely. I walk the streets of this town and look for familiar footprints but I see them less and less. There used to be couches in our shared kitchens. Now everyone I love lives in a different place. Do I have enough love within me to love a new lot as much as I love the old one? It's exhausting to contemplate. I'm not giving up on the dearest of the dear, but I need more friendship in my daily life and I do believe I'm scared to move on. Can you spare a wise word?

Yours,

International Harvester

Dear International Harvester,

What a great question! For the last few years I've been missing my old friends, and I've wondered why it's so hard to cultivate close friendships in the present. You've articulated something that I think many of us feel but are too scared or sad to name. Because this one's so near to my own heart, I'm not really sure what to say. It's a little weird and self-referential, but the only way I could respond to this question was to ask, "What would Sass say?"

Sass would say that it's ok to grieve the passing of special friendships and communities of friends. The particular alchemy of timing, geography, affinity, purpose, and commitment that yields such relationships is rare and unrepeatable. We are right to hold it in our hearts with wonder and reverence and even a little longing. Sass would say that our longing is probably not just for a friendship or community, it's also for a moment in time and for who we were at that moment. Maybe it's about being connected to the world in a way that feels really meaningful. Maybe it's about feeling whole. Such longing is deep - goes beyond this lifetime even into the vast space of some invisible but felt-in-our-bones ancestry. Where is our tribe?

And then, I'm pretty sure that Sass would say that we must strive to continually open our hearts, in spite of our grief and longing, in spite of our fear and hopelessness. Because ultimately love and connection and wholeness are not about object or other, they are about source and self. Maybe allowing ourselves to fully grieve the passing of each moment of our lives, the painful and joyful both, will allow us to open our hearts to the fact that each moment passing delivers us into a present that is continually opening to us. 

Finally, Sass is a big believer in the idea that our lives are exactly right at every moment. Which isn't to say that we don't evaluate and make changes, but rather that the materials that we need to do exactly what we need to do are with us all the time. Looking back on it, I've been using those materials to do some really deep important work on myself in the last several years, work that is helping me become a person that can not only enter into, but sustain deep and loving friendships through all of the passages of a rich lifetime. This is mostly because I'm learning to sustain a deep and loving connection with myself, which isn't always easy. I'll bet you, International Harvester, have been doing really important work, too. 

I guess I'm ready to become one with Sass again to say that our hearts really are big enough. They're even big enough to sustain us through the times when friends are scarce and far away. And they're certainly big enough and wise enough to guide us where we need to go, and to whom we need to be there with. At least I'm pretty sure.

Yours Truly,

Sass

Love and Pee-Pee

Dear Sass,

I have a pee-pee pants problem. Little bits of pee seem to find their way, no matter what I do, onto my boxer shorts. And then, when I get into bed that night, my gf doesn't much like the pee-pee scents wafting up from underneath the covers (I don't know HOW she smells it). She encourages me to take off my boxers and sleep sans pants, which in theory sounds fine, and in fact sometimes I choose to do this on my own without suggestion, but the mentioning of the pee-pees always makes me feel...defeated. No matter how many times I try to use a square of tp or jiggle, it's still a curse. How can I come to terms with my pee-pees and not feel so defeated?

Best,
Mr. P

Dear Mr. P,

I want to acknowledge the ways in which you are already addressing the pee issue. It sounds like you're open to finding something that works for your girlfriend while honoring your own feelings, which isn't always easy to do. 

Your story is funny, but it touches on some of the most serious questions of accepting and loving our bodies without shame. One thing that is thrilling about intimate relationships is that we have the potential to relax some of the restrictions we place around our bodies in order to function socially. Over time the smells and sounds and sights that would repel us in strangers become familiar, sometimes even beloved. As we come to accept the shadow side of each other's personalities- the fears and insecurities and irritating idiosyncrasies- there can be a parallel acceptance of the shadow side of each other's bodies- the sicknesses and limitations, the intimate functions that we all share but rarely share. And what is potentially miraculous about this more complicated and unconditioned acceptance of each other is that it can lead us to a deeper acceptance of our own imperfect selves. 

All of this is true. And yet we find ourselves in bed, snuggling in for the night with our gf, and suddenly the accepted, familiar scent of pee comes wafting out from under the covers. Does the fact that this smell is repugnant to our lover undermine the unconditional love we are building? Does it point to some deeper rejection of our body? Does it mean we are unacceptable, unlovable? 

I think it might just mean that pee is still stinky even if it is the pee of our beloved. And if we can really believe this- in the simultaneous truth of unconditional love and the stinkiness of pee- then maybe it won't feel so hard to change into PJ's at night instead of wearing the day's pee-pee undies, or sleep naked, or to simply squeeze your gf tight and ask her if she can stand it for tonight because you're just too tired to do anything about it. 

Your question is important, and I'd love to hear what others think. In the meantime, I wish you all the best of luck.

Yours Truly,

Sass

the wonders of our bodies and breath

dear sass,
sometimes death feels so close! today i cut away the skin of lydia's arm and held between my fingers the nerves of her brachial plexus - the very ones she used to feel everything from her breast to the tip of her pinkie, to move the muscles of her hand. i found an anomaly in her left brachial artery - i was probably the first one ever to know about it. i feel busy, flustered, honored, lonely...when will i sink into the arms of my beloved? when will i feel calm again?

yours,
lg in bloomsburg, PA

Dear Lenya,

What rushed into my head when I first read your words was, "Lenya, I assure you that at this moment you are nestled deeply, perhaps more deeply than you have ever been, in the arms of the beloved." Which maybe isn't exactly what you meant, but it is what I overwhelmingly wanted to say to you.

Then I thought about the time last summer when I renewed my licence and elected to be an organ donor. It was scary to imagine myself dead and dissected, but I wanted to do it (I hope not too much because of all of the organ transplant episodes of Gray's Anatomy I'd been watching.) Reading your email, I realized how rare it is that death feels close, though it is close all the time. My close encounters with death have brought a deep sense of connectedness with something bigger than myself and the habits of daily life. They have filled me with peace, even as they filled me with fear and sadness. It's really a privilege to be aware of the closeness of death.

And then this: Lydia is you, Lenya! a whole perfectly embodied, unique human being! And the profound intimacy you are having with her body at this moment is no more awesome, no more an honor than the profound intimacy you experience each day living within your own body. I read today that no single experience we can have over the course of our lifetime is as miraculous as the simple fact of our breath going in and out at each and every moment. This was very comforting to me. 

As for calm- it seems like it may be a while before your external life can be a source of that. And we're both wise enough to know not to count on our external lives for our inner peace anyway. Besides, rooted in our bellies every time we breathe is an infinite source of deep calm. I've always been impressed at how close yours is to the surface. Even if it's a little harder to access now, I know it's still there.

 

Yours Truly,

Sass

Deciphering the Fall Blues

Dear Sass,
I think you're onto something about this fall feeling. In fall, I notice that I tend to have a lot more insecure feelings, ideas that I HAVE to do something, usually around issues of permission or 'shoulds'. Why do you think, seasonally, this is? What can I do, if anything, to alter these autumn blues?
Sincerely,
TB

Dear TB,

Whether it's the bracing air, the back-to-school rhythm we just can't seem to shake, the shortening days that make our activities feel more urgent or some mystery of nature, fall certainly seems to make us reevaluate what we're doing. Depending on what our habitual thought patterns are and where we are in relationship to our goals, this close look might be inspiring or blues-inducing. Sounds like maybe you're feeling pressured to use the energy of fall to do something other than what you're doing. If what you're doing now isn't serving you or your long term goals, then this could be a gift. I am much more inclined to write resolutions in September than in January, and I'm much more likely to follow through on them too. So it might be worth reflecting on any places in your life that feel stuck and directing some energy toward freeing them. On the other hand, you may be just where you should be. And in that case, rather than feeling pressured to do something different, you could direct the energy and urgency of the season to strenghthen and celebrate your stance.

Thanks so much for writing- it's awfully exciting to get my first question.

Yours Truly,

Sass

Let Your Inner Superhero Soar

Dear Sass,

A few days ago, fall came. I had just managed to put my whole body into the ocean and suddenly summer was gone. So here I am bundled in layers of wool, feeling the unmistakable energy of fall. This is a time when my inner superhero awakens to address every undone thing in my life- and the other parts of me try to keep up. Or, as has been the case lately, the other parts of me try to convince me that I can't do all of the things that the inner superhero says I can. Resistance can be powerful. One of my fall resolutions is to enroll in a yoga teacher-training for which I have to prepare. A lot. I can't believe how angry I feel about this,  how something at the core of my being seems to rage at the commitment I've made to do something that I really want to do. What's up with this?

Sincerely, 

Sass 

Dear Sass,

It's my experience that people function like emotional camels, holding onto everything and building invisible humps to store it in. Unfortunately, the everything we hold onto includes a lot of uncomfortable feelings, like grief and anger and shame. We're good at carrying this extra weight. Most of us balance it so well, we forget it's there and we don't notice the ways in which it hampers our movements. But when we start to change the balance of our lives- by doing new things, thinking new thoughts, using our bodies in new ways- suddenly the weight is all there and feels like it might squash us. I think that is what resistance is- it's all the invisible old shit we've been carrying around made visible. It can be painful to see these unresolved feelings, and it's tempting to restore whatever it was in our lives that allowed us not to see them in the first place. But ultimately, I think our inner superheros are right; we can be yoga teachers and published writers and doctors and parents and wilderness survivalists. I don't know how to get from here to there without simply going, no matter what form our resistance takes. Along the way we have friends and therapists and books and nature and all of the things that sustain us. 

All Best,

Sass