by Niko
When the Matrix came out 20 years or more ago, I realized how much I identified with Neo. Like Neo, I knew something was off in the world; something didn’t add up, but I didn’t know what it was. In the movie, Neo has Morpheus to guide him and tell him the path to the truth. I spent a long time looking for my own Morpheus.
I grew up in a small Pentecostal sect. We were raised to be separate from the world, to do all we could to live apart. There were strict rules about what we could read, what music we could listen to, and whom we could invite into our lives. Television was forbidden, so we had very few windows into how the rest of the world lived. I was raised to interact only with my family and others in the sect. Anyone else was a potential threat. We were taught that we were God’s elect, but that even we chosen could be easily deceived. The greatest fear the parents had was that the children growing up in the sect would be led astray by the culture. We were always reminded of how important it was to separate ourselves from the rest of the world.
When I was in my early 20s, I left the sect. I knew it wasn’t for me fairly early, and though it was hard, I could separate. I’d grown up playing music in the church and had become a fairly skilled musician. I could make a living playing music in the secular world and even make some money on the industry's business side. I didn’t realize for a long time that the suspicion of the world I’d marinated in as a kid was affecting every part of my professional and personal life, even after I’d left the church. I could only play music alone, could only create alone. I didn’t trust them.
I had that same blockage in my personal life. I didn’t have my first real relationship with a woman until I was 36. It wasn’t because of a lack of opportunity. It was that I was so terribly shut down. I could leave the church physically, but the teachings were still welded onto my insides. When I finally got into that first relationship, I had no idea how it would work. I was 36 physically and intellectually, but I was a teenager in terms of my emotional skills.
A while after that relationship ended, I was playing a gig in San Francisco, and a bunch of us went out to dinner before a show. I sat next to this woman about my age, and out of nowhere, she announced that she was a virgin until she was in her 30s. She, too, had come from a very strict religious background, and she had started her musical career as a worship leader in church. We had so much in common – and then, she told me that OM had changed everything for her. When she explained OM, it blew my mind; I couldn't imagine that something like that existed. When she was done, I asked her to tell me again – I was so excited and amazed. I knew I had to try this.
My first OM brought up some fear I would do it wrong. I convinced myself I was going to ruin it for my partner. Perhaps I’d repulse her, or she’d feel my inexperience through my fingertips; my brain just ran wild for a while as I started. With some practice, though, I was able to work through a lot of those fears. I could stop making it about me and being so goal-oriented. OM has this concept called goallessness – there’s nowhere to get to, no climax to make happen – where you simply stay present in each moment and experience each stroke. That’s easier said than done, but the precise steps of the practice really did help shift my mindset.
To be more accurate, following the steps shifted something in my body first. It wasn’t just about a new mindset; it was a body connection, me with my body and my partner’s body. I’d never experienced that before.
When I think of how OM shifted things for me, the first word that comes to mind is “honorable.” For the first time in my life, I felt like I was completely honest with myself about who I was. I wasn’t a divided person hiding this dirty thing behind a wall. I was a sensual being, a connected being, and my insides and outsides were congruent. I had stopped denying what wasn’t true.
I didn’t have a relationship until I was 36 because I had been raised not to be vulnerable. OM drew out my authenticity, leading me to vulnerability, which let me connect with others. Not only did that change my romantic relationships, it changed my business. As I’d said, I always struggled professionally because working closely with others was difficult. I’d started a business before OM and lost it in no small part because of my inability to trust and connect with others.
After I started OM, I rebuilt the business. Just now, it’s finally coming together. There’s this guy I’d daydreamed about working with; he’s just a great talent. I had a phone call with him recently, and we’re going forward in a partnership, and he’s bringing in another person who is also brilliantly creative. My music is liberated, and my capacity to open up to possibilities has been completely transformed. I’m so excited to see what’s next.
