Soulwork

The morning I left to go to the Dark Side conference, Super Shuttle was forty minutes late.   Being highly influenced by my father who always left for the airport two hours early, this did not bode well with me.  Three times I brought my luggage to the curb, then brought it back inside - up a flight of stairs - to call Super Shuttle and throw a fit.  Finally it arrived.  No tip for you, I said to myself as I glared at the delinquent driver.  Then, the van made four stops!  Super Shuttle is only supposed to make three stops during non-peak periods.  There are little yellow signs all over the van that clearly state this.  When I asked the driver about Super Shuttle's policy, he handed me a business card and told me to call the office if I had a complaint.  "I'm just the driver," he said.

Eventually, we got on 101 south.  But it was a Monday morning - and the beginning of very heavy rush hour traffic.  I began to panic as I saw an endless stream of cars in front of me.  How could this be happening?  I had planned so meticulously for this conference.  I read the books six months ago.   I bought travel size toiletries four weeks ago.  I meditated every day.   I confirmed my travel arrangements twice.  I was ready, dammit! The cars were barely crawling.  My panic intensified.  I felt like crying as I imagined the plane leaving and I would have to miss the conference because I would get there too late.   I even thought about what I would do for my two weeks off - should I go back to work or take a vacation?  I began to silently pray.  Please God, if you get me to the airport on time, I'll give the driver a tip.  I won't call Super Shuttle and ask for my money back, I promise.

The other passengers started to get distressed.  Except for the fourth guy. His plane wasn't until forty-five minutes after everyone else's.   He sat nonchalantly reading the paper.  I wanted to strangle him and say, Don't you know it's because we had to pick you up that we're going to be late? It occasionally occurred to me as I was sitting in the van, that perhaps I could center.   Perhaps there was a reason why all this was happening on this particular morning.   Maybe this was a test.  Maybe this was my conference.  Put me in one of my most anxiety-provoking scenarios and see what I do.  When I thought about it from this perspective, I had to laugh. Life can be pretty funny, ha ha.

But truth be told, the laughter didn't last all that long.   For every ten minutes of fear and anxiety, I'd say I was able to calm down for about one minute.  It took everything in me just to survive.  In between near fits of rage and moments of utter collapse, I tried to trust that I would make it. When I wasn't fidgeting in my seat or counting the cars in front of us, I tried to surrender, to believe that whatever happened would be what I needed.

I'd say this pretty much sums up my experience at the Dark Side.  It was challenging.  It was humbling.  I was upset there wasn't more snack food. I didn't really learn anything new about myself, but somehow the things I saw hit home a little harder.  It was harder to deny the less ego-enhancing qualities about myself.  And having spent so much of my life feeling insecure, nervous, and depressed, I was sure that as soon as I stepped into a shadow conference, I would get to experience all the so-called "positive" things.  For only $2500 I could reclaim my power, love, joy.  Yet in my own blindness, it never occurred to me that before I could own all the qualities that I so desperately needed in my life, I would have to face the part of me that kept me from owning it all in the first place (seems so obvious now).  So I spent a lot of the time defended, regressed - acting the way I usually do - just in order to make it through.  I would sit in the unbearable tension of wanting to escape or run away and wanting so badly to live into my full potential - and unable to do either.  And then I would force myself to center.  And then it would all begin again. As challenging as this conference was, I'm glad I went.  It was necessary. I have to keep reminding myself that I asked for this.  I have to remember that it's far more painful to play things safe all the time.  And if I can remember to laugh in between anxiety attacks, well, then I'd say I was successful!

By the way, when I finally made it to the airport that Monday morning, I discovered that my flight was delayed.  See, in the end everything turned out okay.

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