I Allow Myself to Receive

Content Warning: This post describes religious trauma and brief mentions of self-harm.

It can feel so deeply uncomfortable to open up. To be truly open can feel like we have no edges, no boundaries, and no protection from harm or influence.

For those who practice manifestation, one key component to calling in the abundance, love, success, or dreams you desire is to remain in a state of openness, gratitude, and allowing. You'd think this would be simple. And yet, sometimes it feels unsafe to receive. How could this be, when what I'm receiving is gloriously good, gooey, and gratifying?

But why? Who would want to be closed off to blessings anyway? Is it possible I could be closed off to what is meant for me without consciously recognizing it?

I’ve been given spirit-sent messages in the last few months that I need to slow down to receive. I am called repeatedly to quiet my mind more often, especially as the energy of our collective is so rapidly shifting. Very well, I think. It can't be so hard to simply sit and allow, can it? My body shivers with discomfort. I find an app to scroll through. I avoid it.

Today my personal practice involved sitting for 30 minutes in meditation on Receiving. I had just prior pulled a card with that exact keyword and felt inspired to welcome in the energy of this card. I quickly found a Guided meditation by Brian Scott on YouTube that perfectly suited my goal. I highly recommend it!

And as it started and Brian's soothing voice prompted me to melt, loosen, and relax, my body felt like fleeing. My legs got antsy. My feet cramped. My neck tightened. My mind reached for something--anything–to fill the void. I felt a little dizzy, and my brain scattered like a handful of marbles dropped on the floor. Again I asked, why? Yes, I have ADHD and stillness is challenging, but I think it goes deeper than that.

This kind of openness and solitude has not often been a comfortable space for me to dwell. I've grown a tolerance for meditation with practice over the years, but this one in particular caused a resistance I wasn't expecting.

So in that moment of discomfort, wiggling, and avoidance I gave permission to myself just do this right now, not anything else. There was no other place I needed to be than with me. I lovingly told myself it’s safe to go deeper. It’s safe to sit in openness. It’s safe to receive. 

A Root of Fear

I wish to reflect on one reason why the experience of stillness and relaxation can feel unsafe to my body.

I was raised in an insular evangelical Christian community. As a very young child I was taught about demonic possession and evil manipulative spirits who could enter me at any time, take over my body, or influence me to do sinful things. If I slipped up or did something that opened any door to them, I was at high risk of dire consequences. The belief was embedded very early that I was not safe from demons or the devil at any time, and they tirelessly waited for my mind to become lazy or open or defenseless. I had to be constantly vigilant to stay holy, close to God, and a good person. Or else I could be tortured forever in punishment.

Enter stage left: Scrupulosity, also called religious OCD. It’s no wonder I learned early on to obsessively police my own thoughts, words, desires, and behaviors to the point of self-induced panic attacks. It's no wonder I prayed to Jesus for salvation at least 10 times that one day in 4th grade to make absolutely certain I would be saved from the fires of eternal damnation.

Who am I kidding, only 10 times? I prayed constantly, confessing sins and failings over and over again– almost every week during a church sermon, dozens of times at every youth group retreat, in nearly every diary entry all the way through college, and even publicly in front of friends and church leaders. I was never sure if it worked. I felt no different, and I kept sinning. I kept having intrusive thoughts and impure desires. I kept risking my safety and salvation. I wasn't safe, and it was my fault.

There were other ways I closed down to prevent being a “bad girl.” Dissociation from my body, complex sexual dysfunction, along with cruel self-shaming and punishment for very human behaviors and functions. These were all done in hopes of being "good enough." I wasn't ever safe, and it was my fault.

So back to meditation. Why was it so uncomfortable for this recovering Ex-evangelical? I was taught that yoga and meditation were pathways to demonic influence and possession. Because apparently you can be too open. You can be too receptive. You can let the devil in. I had to close my mind to any possible opening to a mysterious external aggressor and constant threat. If I allowed any space, I was too open and a demon could come into me, drawn by the space I left undefended. Demons could come from anywhere at any time, but almost certainly through opening my mind.

This belief was of course rooted in white supremacy that influenced how we viewed people, practices, and religions from other cultures and continents. I was scared of the "other," the unknown, and the indigenous and ancient practices that were foreign to me. If they weren't of Jesus, they weren't good for me.

Receiving. Relaxing. Opening up. These words feel safe and warm to me now, but it took many years to heal the triggers to my nervous system and the beliefs behind my resistance. How I deconstructed my faith and healed this trauma is another post series yet to come.

So as I sat on my sofa, back straight and head free, I reminded myself, it is safe to receive. As my limbs softened, warmed, and melted into deep relaxation, I sent love to my body and reminded it I am here. I've got you. As I opened every cell in my body to receive the glorious abundance that is everywhere and in everything in this beautiful universe, I thought I am One with all the love in the universe. I am safe here. My openness is not dangerous. My peace of mind, and the stillness of my brain is not a risk to my safety.

"Thank you, Universe, more please" has become one of my favorite prayers. May the blessings that are mine flow swiftly to me and through me in the cycle of the immeasurably generous universe.

I allow myself to receive.

A Mantra for Receiving

One of my favorite musical mantras this past year has been Lee Harris' "I Allow Myself to Receive." If you have struggled with being in peaceful repose and receiving the gifts of a loving and benevolent universe, I share it with love. I hope it helps you like it's helped me.