Sunday, April 1, 2012
Ten Days Apart
Is it my soul that needs to heal so my body can follow? Or is it my body that needs to catch up with a growth spurt of my soul? Or some of both? Growth is painful and also full of pleasure. Now its about bringing things back into balance.
Paying attention to the inside and the outside environment.
I've been in the "doing" mode lately. A lot of work - house sitting, design, horses, lovely stuff but not at this quantity or pace. And a lot of: "what do I "do" about my back? Who can I see next that will "do" something to fix my alignment?"
What I know deep down, is that what my back needs, what my soul needs, is for me to just chill out and be. To listen. I've been feeling this pressure, this tug from some society-ingrained notion that if we're not "doing" something or moving toward some goal constantly than we're worthless. With that comes a feeling of insecurity. Because so much value and security is placed, fake as it may well be, on doing and getting there. Wherever there may be. Its elusive. We can never be anywhere, but where we are.
What I've also been learning and really being tested in during this process of intermittent back and neck pain and healing, is that I keep seeking validation of my choices and advice from others. For instance, I want others to validate the self-healing work I've been doing. When someone makes a judgement, I am learning instead to say, "That is not true for me" or "You know, I hear you, but that doesn't resonate for me" and to be okay with that. Also, I am learning not to share as much or at all when I really want someone's validation or when I've prematurely placed expectation and given high status to them. When I forget and share too much in such a situation, I am often disapointed, sometimes to tears.
I am not in this endeavor alone. Source is with me. Also, this is not happening to me, it is happening for me. I truly believe that because I can feel it. If I don't learn these lessons of validating myself and trusting my own intuition now, the pattern is just going to repeat itself and the learning will be harsher. I don't need to learn the hard way; I never have. But trusting my own intuition, not always seeking advice from others, regardless of outside judgement seems to be the key hardest lesson for me to learn. When people trigger me, this is the button they push - not validating, but judging when I want affirmation and when I'm not giving it to myself. If there is no button, they can't push it. When I am simply being, what I am meant to do next will come. There will not be this striving, this pushing, this choppiness, this surviving. There will be living.
Today, I lived a great day. I hiked the Bear Wallow trail with two dear friends and fellow contemplatives. We meditated for 20 minutes near the stream. I heard the water rushing and imagined it carrying away my burdens. T said she felt the water coursing fluidly through her body. I felt this too. After hiking, we drove down the mountain listening to the ethereal, floating music of Florence and the Machine. We sat our hungry tummys down for delicious food at Tune-up cafe. Nutburger and salad for me. We shared our chocolate cake back at the ranch in the sun, laughing and talking about silly things.
Now I am at the still house I am house sitting at, able to be and write in my journal finally. Heading to bed soon.
Happy April Fools. No one has played a trick on me yet and I haven't cared to think of one to play on another. So far, it has been a good living day again. Mom gave me a matrix energetics session over the phone. I could sense my left shoulder relaxing and my right hip dropping down (my right leg has been feeling shorter than the left for a while). I gave the back/neck pain issue over to source/God/mystery/energy/vibration/whatever and felt the expansiveness where the weight had pressed. Gratitude and love filled the hole.
When riding a collected horse, the rider gives constant adjustments with the aids: legs, seat, hands, voice. The riding is not passive, nor is it a fight for surrender. It is a collaborative, balancing act. I can imagine myself as a collected horse, back lifted and supple, neck flexible and able to bend equally in either direction, lightness of movement, energy contained - but just barely - potential, thoroughly in the moment, listening and paying astute attention.