The Sacred Questions and Weight Loss

The Sacred Questions are questions we ask when focusing.  The Sacred Questions can be anything we want to know about.  The Sacred Questions are asked to bring greater awareness to anything we might encounter.

When I asked myself the Sacred Question, “Why do I want to lose weight?” and I got a faint hearted or wishy washy response I realized I was not asking the right question.  My heart was not cooperating with my idea to lose weight and I needed to change the question.  I asked a different question, “Why do I NOT want to lose weight?” and got some very powerful core reactions and answers to why I would NOT want to lose weight.  There is a lot of fear involved with the prospect of my being my best physically.  This is something I will look deeply into as I am ready, day by day, asking many more Sacred Questions.

Some Sacred Questions might be, ” What am I afraid of?  What can I do about it?  How can I heal it?  What more do I need to understand about this?”  With each of these Sacred Questions I will go to nothingness, thoughtlessness, and see what returns.  There may be an image, a word, an understanding, a feeling, an event relived, or other type of answer.  There may even be something in the environment that answers my question.  Each Sacred Question can be asked over and over, peeling back the layers of answers to that one question.  New questions may spin off answers received, taking me in a new direction of understanding.

The Sacred Questions can be asked by anyone, whether looking within or looking outside ourselves, at our environment.  The Sacred Questions can be asked about absolutely anything.  I learned about the tool of the Sacred Questions from my teacher Tom Brown Jr.  He learned about the tool of the Scared Questions from his teacher, an Apache elder, Stalking Wolf.

If you have not tried this technique for introspection relating to weight loss, or anything else, I encourage you to try asking and see what you find out.  As Tom Brown says, and I paraphrase, “The only failure of the Sacred Questions are the failure to ask them.”  And, interestingly, the simple act of asking will uncover a lot.  Exploring our psyche through asking ourselves questions and surrendering to the answers that return will shed light on dark places; bring hidden things to our attention.

This can be painful but the pain does not last.  This is what is called ‘leaning into the sharp places’ and by doing so, and feeling those painful spots, we can help heal them.  After all, it is impossible to remain in a feeling forever, the emotions will come and they will go.  From my experience, as I feel into those painful places, it hurts a lot.  I know it is not fun.  I have had some things that have taken me years to get over, but I believe by occasionally shedding light on those wounded places, usually unwillingly I must admit, I was able to gradually let go of the pain.

Now I have some work ahead of me and this introspection may take awhile.  I want to understand my aversion to looking and feeling my best.  Why does this image repulse me?

What introspection might you be curious about?  Remember — and this is paramount to the success of this exercise — there must be only kindness and non judgement when asking the questions and receiving the answers.  Only through love of self and understanding that there are reasons for everything can healing occur.

I would love to hear about your experiences if you should decide to try asking the Sacred Questions and surrendering to the answers.

If you would like to read another post about focusing, click HERE.

My “Very Spoiled” Nervous System

 

This morning I lay in bed musing about my life as it is right now.  The health problems I am experiencing prevent me from doing anything the least bit stressful.  I had to miss my 40 year class reunion last weekend because every time I thought about going, my body would hurt as if I were badly sunburned and my mind would scramble like eggs in a hot frying pan.  I had looked forward to this reunion for the past few years, but I did not attend.

I also had to cancel some fun activities I set up for a sweet group of young girls.  The slight stress I felt was too much for my body, and I would get the same physical reaction.

The doctors said I probably have conversion disorder, which was brought on by having stuffed my emotions for too long, and the body finally says, “No More!”  A person with conversion disorder is forced to pay attention because their body does an intervention and all the cells say, “Pay attention!  Something’s wrong!”  And you have to.

As I lay in bed I found myself sinking deep into my center, paying quiet attention to how I was feeling.  I understood I was feeling a combination of emotions:  Guilt over having told people I was not going to be able to teach the girls;  Worry about what people will think of me;  Sadness because I feel less able than other people to do things and I am missing out on some things I thought I wanted to do;  Joy because I am able to rest and stop worrying about those responsibilities;  Excitement because I am only able to focus on things that bring me joy;  And an over arching feeling of just being still and peaceful.  In the stillness I felt things shifting deep within me.  To exaggerate, the shifts felt as if a big, old, neglected machine were suddenly turned on and the sound of the mechanism, whirring, with large, heavy gears moving, making loud clunks, creaks, rattles, bangs, shivers, and groanings.  Sounds of rusted metal on metal.  Sounds of movements echoing through large hollow spaces.

In reality, the shifts and movements were practically imperceptible, but in the stillness I could feel the changes happening within me . . . and the shifting continues to happen whenever I remain relaxed, quiet inside, and allow the movement.

I told my husband, recently, that my body will not let me do anything I don’t want to do, or anything that gives me any stress.  My body allows me to do only the things that bring me joy.

He said, “You have a very spoiled nervous system.”

I said, “Yes, I do”, and I smiled, feeling great love and gratitude for my very spoiled nervous system.

The shifts this morning felt like a falling away of old beliefs; old “shoulds” and worries that had taken over my life.  There are many things I thought I wanted to do that were made impossible too. I suppose total release of worry was necessary so I could rebuild from a place of peace and nothingness.  For decades I abused and broke myself by allowing things in my life that hurt me on a continual basis.  Now I am forced to pay attention to what “I” need, what my body needs, and let go of the “shoulds” while I nourish and heal myself from within, with joy and delight, like a child.

I realize I don’t want to get “better” if it means I go back to my old self destructive ways.  No.  Getting better means keeping all the shifts that serve to bring peace and joy into my life, and allowing myself to remain relaxed and open enough to perceive and allow further blessed shifts.

My "Very Spoiled" Nervous System

 

This morning I lay in bed musing about my life as it is right now.  The health problems I am experiencing prevent me from doing anything the least bit stressful.  I had to miss my 40 year class reunion last weekend because every time I thought about going, my body would hurt as if I were badly sunburned and my mind would scramble like eggs in a hot frying pan.  I had looked forward to this reunion for the past few years, but I did not attend.

I also had to cancel some fun activities I set up for a sweet group of young girls.  The slight stress I felt was too much for my body, and I would get the same physical reaction.

The doctors said I probably have conversion disorder, which was brought on by having stuffed my emotions for too long, and the body finally says, “No More!”  A person with conversion disorder is forced to pay attention because their body does an intervention and all the cells say, “Pay attention!  Something’s wrong!”  And you have to.

As I lay in bed I found myself sinking deep into my center, paying quiet attention to how I was feeling.  I understood I was feeling a combination of emotions:  Guilt over having told people I was not going to be able to teach the girls;  Worry about what people will think of me;  Sadness because I feel less able than other people to do things and I am missing out on some things I thought I wanted to do;  Joy because I am able to rest and stop worrying about those responsibilities;  Excitement because I am only able to focus on things that bring me joy;  And an over arching feeling of just being still and peaceful.  In the stillness I felt things shifting deep within me.  To exaggerate, the shifts felt as if a big, old, neglected machine were suddenly turned on and the sound of the mechanism, whirring, with large, heavy gears moving, making loud clunks, creaks, rattles, bangs, shivers, and groanings.  Sounds of rusted metal on metal.  Sounds of movements echoing through large hollow spaces.

In reality, the shifts and movements were practically imperceptible, but in the stillness I could feel the changes happening within me . . . and the shifting continues to happen whenever I remain relaxed, quiet inside, and allow the movement.

I told my husband, recently, that my body will not let me do anything I don’t want to do, or anything that gives me any stress.  My body allows me to do only the things that bring me joy.

He said, “You have a very spoiled nervous system.”

I said, “Yes, I do”, and I smiled, feeling great love and gratitude for my very spoiled nervous system.

The shifts this morning felt like a falling away of old beliefs; old “shoulds” and worries that had taken over my life.  There are many things I thought I wanted to do that were made impossible too. I suppose total release of worry was necessary so I could rebuild from a place of peace and nothingness.  For decades I abused and broke myself by allowing things in my life that hurt me on a continual basis.  Now I am forced to pay attention to what “I” need, what my body needs, and let go of the “shoulds” while I nourish and heal myself from within, with joy and delight, like a child.

I realize I don’t want to get “better” if it means I go back to my old self destructive ways.  No.  Getting better means keeping all the shifts that serve to bring peace and joy into my life, and allowing myself to remain relaxed and open enough to perceive and allow further blessed shifts.