It Is All the Same

I am slowly emerging. From what I am unsure. Something has lured me inwards, as if I have come to a halt without any planning. This has been prompted by sheer exhaustion. Very little energy to do much of anything at all.  So much so, when “laundry” or “planted seeds” is the answer to the question what did you do today.  Yes. That is the extent of what I have done, completed, accomplished.

And this is what I am coming to accept, coming to terms with. That I have energy to prepare food and do laundry. I am moving very slow. A kind of forced, unplanned intention. One that feels drastically different than the energy I had three weeks ago. And this is what I am dancing with. That was then. This is now.  And I am here, now. With this slowness. With this exhaustion.

It's not totally foreign. This seems to be a part of my new pattern. My new cyclical way of living. Which has always been here. Only in the past few years have I turned my attention towards this way of living. – Shout Out to BeLoved Rebecca who introduced this way of being to me- THANK YOU!

The cycles can be years long, months long, weeks long or days long. It varies. It has always varied. Sometimes I know when it will end or switch. Sometimes time moves so slowly I am unsure if I will ever get out of it. And, if I was not paying attention to this way of being before, I am now. It feels almost like a force. Unwillingly drawn in.

That is what is interesting. I am being drawn into the unknown. I notice when I have expectations- when I feel better I will…, or when my energy returns then I can…. I have no idea when that will be and I am being asked to surrender into this knowing of the unknowing. A trusting of sorts is at play. Knowing this bout will not be like this forever. I can say this from my previous experiences. But I really do not know. Maybe this is how it will be moving forward. See, here is it is - expectations- this desire to know or plan, to figure out and have an idea. It pops up, shows up. It is another form of desire. Of wanting. Of seeking. Of control.  

Oh goodness. Control is showing up in another way. I’d like to have control over how I am feeling and my overall energy level.

I have been sitting with expansion and contraction. Inwards and outwards. Opening and closing. Vastness and edges. Limitless and bounds. And the dance of the space in between.

I found the first sign creeping in when I had no tolerance for sound. NONE.  I wanted to scream. Everything felt too loud, to close, way too intrusive. I know from experience when this is upon me, when my nervous system is screaming at me, I have to take action and do something.

I used to override and ignore these signals. I would push through, becoming irritated and annoyed by anyone who was around me because they could not see that I had overextended myself and was tired. Rather than speaking up and sharing what I needed or removing myself without the need to explain or justify, I would lash out. Yep, this was a go to pattern, a way of living for me for some time.

Now, I am navigating giving myself permission to be. To notice what is arising, how I am feeling, the energy levels that I have and deciding how I want to use my energy, in what ways I want to share it and invest it. As one friend offered, “you are getting to know your noes (or nos, whichever you prefer).”  Yep. I am.

I am also continuing to get to know me. I am constantly changing and shifting. Evolving and growing. What works for me one day, doesn’t the next. I have energy and stamina for something then the attention wanes and I am drawn to something else.

I am giving myself permission to be this way. To meet myself like this. In this. Because the story in my mind, the story my mind is making up is that I am lazy, that I cannot stick with or see something through. I know these are stories that are made up, they have been told to me, shown to me by someone else’s value system and they are arising here for me to undo them, to meet them face to face. I am allowed, see, that I even type that word – allowed. I am allowed to rest, to move slow, to ‘not do much’ which even in that I am holding myself to some standard that has been placed on me- that there is a certain amount that I have to do, that I am obligated to do, that I am required to do to get something in return…. I am still hung up by this conditioned response of having to do something to get something in return. And it is deeply tied to my sense of safety and well being. So much so that I would push myself or ignore signals from within and continue to do out of fear of not getting something- acknowledgement, a comment, gesture of appreciation, recognition, a gaze- SOMETHING in RETURN.

Which brings me to, oh wow, so much is here. So much is unfolding. Which brings me to this notion of offering and receiving. This idea that I offer and others receive. And I expect that they do something in exchange when they receive. Like I am owed something when I offer someone something and they receive it. Rather than it simply being a gesture of an offering and leave it at that. It’s been interesting to notice this, to see how it is showing up. Yet another form of attachment. A clinginess that is here. I tell you, these patterns seem to have no end and they show up in all of the ways, especially when I am least expecting them.

See, here it is again- expectation. It creeps in and shows up, uninvited. Like I want to know. Like I want it all laid out, figured out, planned out. Outlined. Moving along according to plan.

There is NO fun in that. That, to me is playing it safe. I caught on to that pattern a while back. My desire to plan and control so I know, so I am not blind sighted, caught off guard. So I can remain protected and shielded from that which I do not like, that which I want to avoid or not have to deal with. This is a form of contraction, of being closed off. Sheltered. A turning inward.

Which, now as I type these words, I am beginning to see, is beginning to be revealed to me. I have been dancing with this for some time.

This inward, closed, controlled, protected, shielded, boundaried placed in order to pretend that I am invincible, that I can stop hurt and pain from coming to me.

Yes, of course there is another type of inward time, one that I know intimately. Time with myself, breathing, in practice, in mediation, in nature. Alone. This deep, deep connection with myself that I have cultivated over the years.

Both of these inward ways are here now, it is a both and moment. I can see aspects of both in this slow down, coming to a halt time. A time that invites an inward expansion, a deeper connection, a facing and addressing what is here. The Fear.

The illusion of fear. The allure of fear. The grip of fear. The reality of fear. The stories of fear. The stories that fear conjures and makes up. The realness that fear feels. The grips that fear holds onto, limiting and reducing. The allure that fear entices. The illusion that fear creates.

The illusion that fear creates. Ah yes, that illusion can bring me to a standstill. It can paralyze me, frozen in time. That I can address now. That I am addressing now as it is being released from my body and healed. No longer stored away. Free. Free to be. Free to move. Free to leave. No longer needed. No longer necessary to hold onto or cling to. No longer defining or creating.

Yes. That is what this is. A fierce letting go. A forced letting go. I say forced because the grip was so strong, my fingertips were white with the tightness of the clench. Forced.

Interesting. It left the same way it came. By choice. A choice that came deep from within, so deep that I did not even know it was mine. A decision that came forth from a deep inner knowing. One that rose up through the narrow constriction. Held in the boundaries of the container pushed through the funnel. The tightening. The channeling. The force. The power. The strength. The will.

This is why I felt off guard, like it rose out of nowhere. Catching me by surprise. Because that is how it got locked in. And it has to go in the way it came. Fear. Surprise. Not planned. Not thought about. The furthest from my mind. Even though, on some level, a deeper level of knowing knew this was coming, knew then what was coming.

And here I am now, writing about it.

It has moved. It, meaning the fear that once gripped, held, constricted, restricted. Now is released. It breathed. Touched air, saw the light, was spoken, took flight.

And I am healing. Grieving what happened, how I allowed it to happen, how I allowed myself to walk into it. Forgiving myself because I did not know. Acceptance of this. Accepting that I saw signs.  Yes, I experienced danger and unsafe situations and I overrode, made excuses and stayed, until I knew I couldn’t. I took action. Action that was needed and necessary. Reminding me I can rely on myself. I can trust myself. I can handle what comes my way. I have and I will.

Narrow constrictions. Boundaries, that which is held on the inside is the same force that surrounds on the outside... it is all an illusion.

See, I have been exploring edges, boundaries, this notion of form being contained.  And it is interesting to greet what is being offered. The container holds, it contains and maintains that which is relevant to meet at the time. And all I see when I meet this container is that what is on the inside is on the outside. The same. Just beyond the perceived edges or bounds - it is all the same.  It's like when we think our hearts cannot physically expand any wider than they have and yet, it happens. Arms fling back and chest opens more and more and more. Cracking us open. Breaking us open. Allowing in the light, the pain, the hurt, the sorrow, the grief, the bliss, the joy, the tears, the laughter and the love. It is the love that is here. Always.

Yes. This is where I meet you. Dancing with you in a warm embrace,

S