I take it back, the last thing I wrote about being lass stressed. I reached new heights of stress yesterday.
I taught one of the last bodypainting workshops that I am going to run, and had several students, but one was really pushing all my buttons. It was a very long two days. Added to which I had no escape. Usually on the second day I get time away from the endless questions and talking, but my photographic assistant was on my computer and the children were trying to get themselves painted too and finally, at 7.30pm I just had enough.
Children are endless sacrific, I know, it is nothing new, but my favourite way to relax is to watch a good film. By the time they went to bed it was too late and I just spent the whole night in dreams of total frustration. And I now write from that place, too.
As my bodypainting identity gets put in a box and under the bed I find I am panicking about whether I will survive or not without it. But at the same time, the endless repetition of the courses, the shows, the egos
(mine included) I will not miss at all. And the frustration yesterday was partly a real awareness of how much I want to let it go. It starts to feel like prostitution. Just doing it because I want to earn the money, but I have no real attachment to anything within the process. I have to really pull myself in to the teaching of it.
At the same time it is easy to see all the insecurities and the talent and really strongly encourage the dropping of the despair and the flowering of ability. It is this aspect that feels much more yogic. I suppose it is this part that I enjoy, too. Anyway, there is just one more course left here, and three abroad, then it is finished and someone else can take over.
I still have two more days on a one to one in here, though. And for this I need a meditation for the neutral mind.
I would love to be totally free of the manifestation of stress. I feel ill with it and can easily see how it is so dangerous. I think also there is an attachment to the expression of stress. I always tend to be publicly stressed. privately I just sit quietly. But with others around I need to be seen to be overwhelmed. For the pity? For the space? I will think on it.
It was the same with the early breastfeeding. Being attached tot he exhaustion. Somehow needing to be seen to be exhausted and worn down by it. I took to sleeping alone with each baby, to avoid the state of mind, to get out of being the victim. My response to feelings of stress need the same treatment. But one cannot always walk away.