Trigger Happy

Today is an average day that began way too early for my liking. I am sitting in a classroom full of people each waiting our turn to read out loud. There are over 40 of us packed into the room all with yoga mats, books, water bottles and various other study materials. We are currently spread out in a huge circle all the way around the studio. It is reminiscent of elementary school sitting on the floor, Indian style with friends by my sides and a textbook in my hands. We are nearing the end of our class for the day, and our energy shows it. I am trying to maintain amusement at the current assignment because it is asinine to my lethargic brain and an obvious impromptu method of giving our instructor a break. He is ill and looks pasty as sweat beads collect on his forehead. My mind shouts "We should not be here."


I am exhausted, like everyone else. Today class began at 4:30 am which means I got up at 3 am. Today started our required Sahadna which must be done during the twilight zone. The irony of this hours name is not lost on me. The lights in the room are slightly dimmed giving everything a drowsy, gloomy feel, and the air in the room is warm and stale. Many are sick- sneezes and coughs ring out periodically like on a timer. I picture the germs in the air as I take in the faces that are pale except the dark rings under their sleep-deprived eyes.  Again my mind has an opinion "We should all be at home resting."

I am frustrated and uncomfortable. My body is achy from sitting on the floor all day, and I have a pinched nerve sending shooting pains down my right leg. Switching position works for mere seconds then I am fidgeting again to try and find a position more comfortable. I imagine myself from the other's perspectives and decide I definitely must look like a hyperactive child flopping all around constantly.

Through the fog of my ADHD, I am trying to focus as the reading continues. The strange prose and rambling dialog in the book are hard to follow.  Some parts are written like a play with the name of the character speaking and a colon beginning each person's sentences. The banter between the people is awkward and improbable. The student speak is clumsy and feels inauthentic while the teacher responds in sarcastic, self-important jargon. I am trying to follow along in the book, but I find myself looking up to see if anyone else is as dismayed as I am. The struggle is real as I fight back the urge to alternately laugh hysterically and angrily protest. I stamp down my dander and try to stay with the pompous, screwball material that just gets more and more suspicious. Mental self pep-talk says "Only a few more hours to go."

I am floundering with my attention and becoming more and more irritated. I begin to look around seeking confirmation of my scrutiny. Is nobody else hearing this?

This place is filled with people I know and trust.  People who I respect and who resonate with me. It normally feels familiar and safe, yet somehow it seems foreign as I try to translate the paradoxical receptions that surround me. No eyes meet mine with knowing smirks. No haughty giggles to assure me I am not off my cuckoo nest. I grasp for justification of my assessments. I guess that the others are either obliterated by fatigue or beyond care. The only other possibility is that they sit in some other awareness. They see something I, do not see. I jot myself a self-critique: self-doubt just instilled by this experience.

Okay, so I seem to be the only one aware of something amiss... I know that I will need to sit with this a while before I truly know what to make of it. Still lost in my self-talk I see, to my utmost chagrin, the teacher who is reclining lazily, asleep on the stage. My intolerant mind is now screaming "You have got to be kidding me!" Add to self-awareness notes that I am livid at the nerve of this guy. Twilight zone- my ass!

It is my turn to read. The text is getting even more bizarre to my inner-critique. The teacher in the book has gone into a rhyming sing-song speech that reminds me of rap music imitating children bullying on a playground. Again his words come off preachy and pretentious. He speaks of eradicating the student's ego while his looms immense. His words offend my empathic nature as he contradicts the student's every thought and idea. Another trigger pulled here-note taken.


I continue to dissect the experience to consciously pick up the pattern my automatic brain is detecting. I soon realize he chooses his spiritual jargon with precision to manipulate and halt all critical thought. One minute you are to be true to yourself and the next he speaks of "roasting his students alive." The arrogant and brusque manner now looks to be a method of intimidation. He uses fear to squelch any debate. As I categorize the things, I am experiencing I watch the dialogue become sinister and condescending to my mind's eye. Now when he speaks in the childish Suess-like way, I am incensed by the method. It becomes even harder to want to continue to listen to anything more he has to say. Trigger!

 I have consciously taken note of my trigger moments and then purposely enacted my judgments. This gives me the ability to watch my mind's reactions and impressions in conjunction with my thoughts.  Upon final inspection begin my self-inquisition: What exactly happened? How did I feel about it? What was my reaction to those feelings? Are my assessments true or just my assumptions and projections? With the answers, I will consciously choose how to proceed. This method of self-assessment can be done by anyone in any situation. It is a great way of navigating difficult feelings and healing past traumas. The method is called CBT.


In my spiritual self-quest, I ask: Is my reaction ego? Why is his tone triggering me? Most importantly, is there a good enough message here to ignore the delivery of the messenger?