Exploring the Root Chakra
My writing career, for what it is, got started back in 2018 with a self-study of the Yamas and the Niyamas. Each week I focused on one, and then posted a little meditation and small excerpt of how I did with that focus point. Beth, my first Yoga teacher ever, followed along for the ride and at the end of the practice asked me if I would like to write for Held in the Heart. The rest, as they say, is history.
On my return back to the writing space, I figured that I would revisit the well and go through another self-study practice to get the creative juices flowing. This time my focus will be on the chakras. I'll start from the ground up, bringing my personal practice focus to one chakra for the month and report back to all of you on how it went. I expect to be fully enlightened by August. Well, maybe not fully. But maybe!
Here goes nothing.
The way that I initially learned about the root chakra boils down to two words: food and shelter. At the base of the spine, and the start of the climb of the ladder towards liberation, we have to start with what’s important in the here and the now. Do you have enough to eat and do you have a place to live? In our complex world, there is obviously more to it than that, and I promise you that we’ll get to it, but let’s start there. Imagine if the answer to both of those questions is no. Sure, we’ve got problems but anybody with the privilege to sit down and read what I write, I assume, isn't worrying about where their next meal is coming from or where they are going to sleep tonight. You’ve got to start with that proper base before growing anything else. But it can be very easy to take these things for granted. I want to take care of my house and my home so that it becomes a constant source of stability for me as life swirls around. I want to feed and fuel myself in a manner that allows me to live a long and active life. I want to incorporate practices that ground me in focus of the present moment.
There’s an old saying that if you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans.
On the first day of the new year, my partner and I were sitting in a ceremony of our own design, celebrating the turn of the calendar and setting intentions. It was a very grounding experience. We were disturbed from this moment of deep connection by three raps at the door. Apparently the unit directly above us had suffered a leak and now there was water seeping into our walls. They would have to run some tests in our home, bring in a couple of massive filtration systems, and then we would have to relocate for seven days while they replaced a wall. Suffice to say that my home became a mess of hastily moved furniture and construction equipment for about a week before we had to move out.
And this was even before the fires started.
How do you ground down when you don’t feel like there is stable footing to ground into? This is a challenge for those who travel and those whose lives are in a state of flux. I’m sure that this is a challenge for the thousands of people who have been displaced by the devastating fires in Los Angeles. But as I’ve often said in these articles that I write, you don’t actually get good at anything until you are challenged by it. Things that come easy seem to be worth a lot less than those that you have to struggle for.
As the dream of my perfectly clean and organized house fell to pieces around me, I turned to the window of my nutrition. Before we had to get out of our house, my partner and I spent an entire afternoon meal prepping for the week away. It seemed like we made enough breakfast burritos and balanced meals to feed a small army. As we waved goodbye to our unit for the week we not only took suitcases full of clothes and luggage, but three bags full of Tupperware containers. It wasn’t the grounding practice that I thought it was going to be at the beginning of the month, but it was a step in the right direction. We made due with the situation we were given.
This of course was my own personal experience. I’m lucky enough that I had to relocate due to mold. I was able to prepare what I could and plan out my movements. The fires in the mountains just north of where I live did not allow those locals the same timing. It would be unfair and presumptuous of me to suggest what people in that situation should or could do to ground down, but I do hope that they are doing something. The wellness studio that my partner and I work at welcomed those people displaced by the fires so that if it felt helpful for them, they could come in and move their body a bit. I’m not saying it’s what everybody should have done, but for those that I saw in the space, it did seem to add a touch of consistency and normalcy to a very abnormal situation.
In a time of trouble, they were able to lean into their practices.
After the initial fears of the fires reaching our apartment in Santa Monica calmed down, the overwhelming heaviness of the situation seemed to sink in. The fact is that we were lucky. We were safe and did not lose any amount of property or life and were more or less just dealing with air quality issues and changes to our work schedules. From there, a certain amount of survivor’s guilt sinks in. Everything is so close yet so far away. We’re unsure how to act. What should we do? What can we do? It’s been really cool to see Los Angeles, a city most known for it’s “me-first” flashy attitude, come together with volunteer and donation opportunities to support those in need.
If you feel called to offer support to those impacted by the fires across LA County, here are a few resources for donations and volunteer opportunities:
But there is also the absolute truth of the here and now, and what is happening at the present moment. The fires are still raging at the time of this writing and unless you’re a firefighter, a lot of what you can do falls into a wait and see approach. You have to sit with the uncomfortable situation.
For this I returned to my zazen practice.
I’ve discussed zazen before in these articles, but for those unfamiliar, suffice to say that it is a meditation in which you sit upright for extended periods of time. There’s no real breath focus or mantra to speak of, but more of a “here is what’s going on in the now and I’m just going to sit with it”. We even initially titled my monthly articles Something I’ve Been Sitting With as a nod to the practice. During zazen you can experience backache from the posture, loud noises in the surrounding area and wild thoughts that spiral in every conceivable direction and through it all you just kind of sit there, non-responsive. I’ve often found it to be a melting away of the self where you see just how small and insignificant of a role you’re playing in things. The world turns with or without you. At the initial introduction to this practice it seems pretty depressing, but the further you go with it, the more you start to feel a liberation from the self-imposed pressures that you put on yourself.
While I had kept an inconsistent home practice of zazen over the past couple years, I had not returned to a group sit in quite some time. Like anything else, there are a multitude of excuses to pick from as to why this might have been the case, but when I found a sangha, or community, down the street from my home sitting together on Wednesday evenings, it felt like something that I had to return to. I’m glad that I did.
The practice isn’t comfortable.
It’s uncomfortable in more ways than one. Sitting upright in a lotus posture for upwards of an hour can wreak havoc on your back and hips. The duration of non-stimulation allows for a wild running of thoughts throughout the brain that rarely get quiet enough for you to experience the picturesque zen of sitting on a calm beach with waves lapping up against your legs. Knowing this, I was fairly nervous going to my first group session in over a year and almost bailed just because I knew what I was stepping into. Thankfully I have you, my dear reader, to hold me accountable.
So if this practice is so uncomfortable, why would someone submit themselves to it? There are so many other practices that might bring you some sort of peace rather than what feels like a prolonged panic attack. Well, I for one have found that this practice brings me to the present, without any hope of escaping. When my back aches or I have an itch on my nose that I’m dying to scratch, I’m just supposed to sit with it and not respond. We’re so quick to respond. We’re so quick to react. We’re so quick to think of a way we can make the future better or change things up. But there are just some things that you have to sit with. For instance, the biggest fire Los Angeles has ever seen. That’s an uncomfortable truth that is happening whether I accept it or not. It sucks. And I can’t stop it. So much like the cramping of my hips and the stiffening of my low back, I just have to sit with that uncomfortable situation. There will be a time to move and a time to rebuild but my role, for the moment, seems to be much quieter.
I’m afraid.
I’m afraid for those who have lost so much. I’m afraid of the air quality and the still very real possibility of the fire turning it’s direction towards my home. I’m afraid of what Los Angeles will become after all is said and done. I’m afraid of what will become of my work and livelihood with many of my clients being displaced and dealing with bigger things than back pain or a sore shoulder. I’m fearful of how I’m going to survive going forward.
But fear, in the face of death, destruction and fire, is an appropriate response. You can’t run from it. It’s right there with you. Through a grounding and present practice like zazen, I hope to embrace that fear and turn towards it, because when I look at the fear, really look at it, it’s more of a “what’s going to happen next?” type feeling. If I look too far ahead, that fear becomes anxiety. In the manifestation of the here and now, it all becomes relative. The fire is not at my doorstep, and if it was, I would hope that I could also respond appropriately with right action.
So right out of the gate, the Universe throws a curveball. That’s ok. In my dealings with the Universe, it seems She likes to keep me on my toes. When I think about the chakra system as a whole, I consider two directions. When we work up the ladder, we work towards liberation. When we work down the ladder, we work towards manifestation. On one hand, I’m beginning the climb up towards my highest self, on the other hand I can only begin that climb with what I do right here and right now. This month I was able to take little pieces of what I consider home and bring them with me as the physical space that was mine faded away. It’s not the way that I would have wanted to do it at the beginning of this journey, but it is the road that opened before me as I walked down the trail. I hope to continue with these practices of nutrition, zazen and active presence as I continue into the next month of my journey where I’ll incorporate some of the sacral chakra.
As always, thanks for sitting with me through the process.
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(She/Her)
The gal behind Held In The Heart. The Community Journal is a space for those who feel deeply to express freely. We explore all sorts of things here, from the real & raw healing stories & creative writing, to the funny & fleeting moments of everyday human life. I warmly welcome you and invite you to explore with us!