I practice Bikram; I'm strong. I see my muscles flex and shake in the mirror during class as I hold one leg way up, and balance straight and firm on the other. Such a contrast to my personal life. I can't go into detail, without going into detail. Let's just say I feel that I can't express myself fully: I remain mute. That makes me a prisoner of my self. I can't express how I want things, I can't express dislike or like. It's a no-win scenario, and thus, I am left feeling powerless.
Yet I work on the inside stuff, you know, the Me Part, what I'm responsible for; that which I can change. I am also experiencing just sitting in this feeling. How is to feel powerless in my life? [In certain areas]. Well, it's completely uncomfortable, of course! But I will sit with it today, and see what happens. I know it makes me angry, so very angry, and from there I react, so I have to pull back, sit with it again, know what's going on inside.
I can work on reclaiming my power, or acknowledging that, like Dorothy and her scarlet shoes, I had the power all along. I could admit that it boils down to a lack of courage to speak up for myself; a feeling of diminished rights. That train of thought leads back to powerlessness. So, I am stuck again. I suppose I could give up and accept it; the hardest path to follow: slam the door in the face of ego and attachment and just let the situation be as it is, for it is, no matter how I fight it. Reality always IS. Will it kill me not to have everything as I want it, as I'm used to? Hmmm. Squashed.
There was a sad little cricket in my kitchen today; I almost stepped on him. His little legs quivered and didn't work so well. I scooped him up on a piece of paper as he attempted to thrash unsuccessfully. I could see the death throes occurring in the short distance from the kitchen to patio door--stiffening. The cricket was powerless. Even as he slid off the paper and couldn't right himself, even as I gently turned him over, there was nothing, absolutely nothing he could do except twitch and stiffen. Will he recover or die? Will ants come and devour him while he still lives, or as he decays, assisting the process? The cricket can't grasp a concept of power or lack thereof. He just lives or dies. He just is. I can't stop thinking about that darn cricket. It made me sad.
I get in these situations; it's no ones fault but my own, even though there is really no 'fault" involved. I make decisions, consequences follow. And now I blather on, trying to figure it out with all of you as my audience. So, I'll just sit with this feeling of powerlessness and follow it to its denouement. We rest in the company of sadness and anger, until the curtain falls. Then it passes.