Perfectionism Bender: Getting Sloppy Again

Dear Sloppy Bhakti fam,

I wanted to touch in here and thank every soul that has graced these pages with their hearts. This site ended up becoming a launching pad for the trajectory of my life, travels, and blossoming career. This WILL bloom into something even greater in the future-now, when the time is ripe. (Yes, I'm cooking while I'm cooking) so don't worry, the inspiration is steeping. For now, I just wanted to touch in, rekindle a bit, and let y'all know to follow me on instagram to stay up to date with spiritual insights, yummy bass music meets art vibes, nature adventures...and sorry for all the skateboard clips. Overall, if I have one insight to share here before I dip out for a little while again—true spirituality doesn't equal a prescribed path. Spirituality isn't "Simon Says," and if it looks like "Simon Says," get out! Spirituality equals authenticity. We all have this strange idea that we have to "become spiritual," and we have this plaster-of-paris concept about what "spiritual" even is.

At first we end up just copying whatever our favorite spiritual person looks like from the outside, rather than doing the inner spelunking for our own treasures. We do this because we're scared to be ourselves. Because of our upbringing, our parents, our classmates—it wasn't safe when we were younger to fully express our joys, angers, sorrows, fears, and questions. And maybe due to our culture, it might still not feel safe now. These simple in-the-moment repressions might not feel huge, but built up over a lifetime, they can stop us from being vulnerable, from being joyful and blissful, from being confident in our decisions, and from being truly ourselves.

If we learned that it wasn't emotionally safe to express ourselves, then whenever our authentic self wants to shine, even in a small way, it's free flowing energy meets the blocky body guard of the nervous system, and we end up in "defense mechanism land" (the world's worst-rated theme park). So, once we discover spirituality, we often find it easier to simply copy the imprint of whatever "expander" is hitting the most for us at the moment, imprinting like ducklings waddling behind momma. My first spiritual "momma duck" was Ram Dass.

I pretty much thought I had to become Ram Dass for a while. (Cue unnerving eye contact and a really deep, "Ahhhh..."). I did this until I realized, Ram Dass was transformative because he was perfect-essence Ram Dass. He didn't swim upstream against himself. He did the tapasaya when it was necessary, but he always honored his incarnation as part of his spiritual path. After that, I thought I had to be like Duncan Trussell. I listened religiously to almost every DTFH podcast, and I actually became kind of stale, a little Duncan bot. But they have GPTs for that now, so I realized it was probably time to move on and learn to become essence me. But what was essence me?

Our vibe is always changing, and we have different parts of ourselves that come up and "knock on the door." Spirituality isn't there to push away these parts. It's there so that when these dormant parts knock, we don't get frightened and then dissociate and run away. Or the equal opposite of getting anxious and hyper about it, thereby scaring them away, along with the opportunity to heal. There's an art to allowing all parts of yourself to have a seat at your table. It's somewhat like coaxing a cat onto your lap who definitely wants snugs, but is nervous and maybe a little feral. These parts were not safe to be at the table when you were younger, so it's a big deal for them to come take a seat. And it's possible when they do take a seat, they won't have very good table manners. But if you offer them tea—meeting them with playful curiosity, listening, respect, and love—a transformation happe. Now wisdom and healing is served along with the tea.

When I first got a spiritual name, I grabbed onto it and used it to push away my humanness. When I found out I was the "new favorite" of the Ma at my local chalisa gathering, I met myself with a mix of 'pat on the head' delight, and a confused anguish. What was I doing this for? Was my natural style a pashmina? Definitely felt that way in the wind at Dopapod's set at Summercamp 2013. But now, was I wearing it to hide my raw feelings of 'not being really all that spiritual' underneath the surface? Maybe. Or maybe pashminas are just comfy, rad, stylish, and somehow always still smell like amazing incense?

See what you've been missing?

Maybe I should share more often.

Either way, I realized I was trying to present myself as some sort of spiritual person. And to do that, I was pushing away a very real part of the reality of my being—that fact that sometimes I get frustrated and angry, I can fall into despair, I mess up, I forget names, I can be anxious, judgmental, fearful, addicted, isolated, weird, judgmental, rebellious, and raw. Meanwhile, I was getting so many social rewards for my chanting, was being asked to serve chai for my community, and was being lifted in all these different areas. I could tell people, especially those who had just met me, "looked up to me" or "respected" me, and there was a part of me that couldn't stand it. I wanted to tell everyone who saw me in those eyes of pure light, that my shadow went just as deep.

The reward center of my brain couldn't help but lean in to the accolades. What else was I going to do, "Hey, I know you really like my Hanuman Chalisa, but really I'm a piece of shit, and let me tell you why!" That's a weird vibe. So I accepted the pats on my head and bolstered my spiritual ego, all while inside I was wallowing in the "truth" of seeing so clearly my own darkness. This is a darkness we all have, but it just gets so much more pronounced the more light you shine around it.

I was forward on the "bhakti" and really grabbing the broom as often as I could to sweep the "sloppy" part underneath the rug. Perfectionism is a hell of a drug. And when you've been on a "perfectionism bender" it can be really hard to come down. Thinking back, I'm pretty sure I've been on a perfectionism bender since grade school. Due to that, I've always rebelled into things like skateboarding, or music festivals, or various activities which one might call "sloppy," and I often got judged, and also judged myself for them. But now, looking back, I see my soul was just trying to find a middle way, to bring a loose balance to a really uptight individual who was frustrated and fed up with trying to "be good, do good, and act good" simply because he "had too," or it felt unsafe not too. But Hanuman always comes with the ring: Skateboarding ripped me free. It allowed me to think outside the box, to imagine and create, to fall, fail, and get back up, to connect with others, and just simply "Be." This was the start of my spiritual journey.

Then— Music festivals ripped me free. Bass music ripped me free. Bhakti ripped me free. Ram Dass ripped me free. Romance ripped me free. My website ripped me free. My friends ripped me free. My new career ripped me free. Spirituality ripped me free. All my practices ripped me free. And here I am, still not free.

Funny how that is?

I'm still caught.

Because...

I only did it halfway.

I used all of these high moments of freedom as a mountain to sit on and show myself and others how spiritual I was. Here is Ganesh Das! And where's James? Crushed under his mountain of "spiritual accomplishments."

And then I moved. Unexpectedly. And I was away from my support systems, away from all the people telling me "how good I was." And guess who came back? James. And it was rough. He wanted all the same "sloppy" things as before, and worse yet, he had all the same anxieties, depressions, impulses, and defense mechanisms. But now maybe a little more intensely, because he had access to all the shakti from Ganesh Das' spiritual practices. After being crushed dormant under that mountain of accomplishments, he was back with a vengeance.

At first I fought against it. Not a great strategy.

Then I leaned into it fully. Not a great strategy.

Once I pulled myself out of that pit, I realized that I had to find a way to integrate those parts of myself that I had cast aside and buried beneath who I thought I wanted to become. I had to find a way to disassemble the "spiritual mountain" I had been sitting on, and bring these two parts of myself to the same playing field. To balance the "sloppy" and the "bhakti."

And that is where I am now, in this process of attempting being fully me in every way, to heal the parts of myself that need healing, that need invited to the table for tea, instead of just brushing them away and "trying to be spiritual about it." This is my current task. And if you read this far, maybe it's yours too. Also, wow— I didn't plan on writing this, so thank you for reading! This post was going to be one paragraph that basically said "The Sloppy Bhakti is on hiatus." So uhhh erm, "The Sloppy Bhakti is on hiatus! (couldn't you tell?) so get out of here! See ya later! Jao!" With THE love,

Ganesh Das