Something is finally breaking open inside me. It has been cooking for 2 weeks. Or more accurately, my soul has been nudging to break through, like a bird hatching from an egg. How exactly, I don’t know yet. But it shows up as a deeper level of feeling and sensing. Feeling too much it seems, feeling raw, vulnerable and emotional.
I’ve slowed down, way down, these last couple of months, leaving my job at the shop, back home after family visits, and now these last two weeks of practically nothing of my old routine. At least on the outer. Well, not nothing exactly, just not the same. The house is in good shape, taxes are paid, the bathroom has been redecorated, and I’ve done some painting. And resting and reading novels and watching movies. Private client sessions and a breathwork. Not exactly nothing, but a big change in pace.
There is a deepening and a softening. Two days ago I tripped over some dog toys and smashed my little toe into the door jam. I did some energy work and took arnica. Not too bad now really, but serving to further slow me down and notice. It has taken this long to stop the internal spinning. I haven’t been unconscious during this time—at least not completely. There is always an awareness, a noticing, as I watched myself doing a bit of this and that, checking in with Source/Spirit/Higher Self for the highest choice in each moment. So I wasn’t blindly filling the time with busy work. It was all pretty much done. Which, I must say, feels really good. Everything is in good order, long put off projects are finally completed. There is a feeling, a sense of a completion of something. A new phase is about to begin. But when, and what, and where, and how? All the ego questions, but with a deeper sense behind the questions—noticing the shift.
The answer is—it shows up when all is ready. And the first step is inner readiness. So back to the breaking open. There is a realization now of a barrier within. Another layer of something somewhere around the heart that is ready to peel back and dissolve. And like the proverbial flower and butterfly, it cannot be rushed. It takes time, stillness and attention. The courage to notice and feel. As more and more of the outer activities fall away, the attention is drawn to finer and finer awareness.
It is important to know and remember always, in every moment, that nothing is ever really wrong. Uncomfortable maybe, but never wrong. I’ve had to check on that a lot lately because the normal routine isn’t there now. But no matter what, everything is useful if we notice and watch. Just watch. Get quieter and soften into the experience of whatever the moment holds. Noticing even what seems to be emptiness, nothingness. Breathing into the heart space and surrendering the mind to the heart. Gratitude for it all, gratitude for presence. It actually feels good physically to do this.
So what lies beneath this next layer? That will unfold. Right now, I just notice how guarded my heart has been. And that’s not wrong. We are all conditioned by our life experiences to protect, to guard, to be wary. We are evolving now. As we dare to open more deeply to our own selves, to become ever more tender, loving and compassionate with ourselves, we notice the pain buried deep inside. It’s as if our pain had to hide from our own judgment of it. And when we stop judging ourselves, suppressed layers dare to peek out to be dissolved in acceptance and love. I have found that it is amazing how quickly these feelings dissipate when we stop resisting, allow them to show up and then just breath.
The last couple of weeks, I have been noticing and feeling a lot of really deep pain, loss and upheaval in those around me—family, friends, clients. I can usually not take it inside. As an intuitive and an empath, I work with this a lot, and I know how to take care of myself. But it seemed overwhelming this time—feeling too much, too deeply, wanting to cry and not really knowing why, because in truth my life is really quite amazing. Perhaps that’s why I bashed my foot. It crumpled me to the floor in tears. I somehow knew the tears were not just for the foot pain. It was too deep. And so as I sit and rest, I allow myself to notice, to open, to feel.
And what’s beyond this unknown layer? More light, greater depth and openness, a greater capacity for peace, love and joy, and a deeper ability to show up for ourselves, loved ones, clients and the world. It’s exciting!
I often recall a quote attributed to Bishop Irenaeus in the first century: The glory of God is a human fully alive. It’s risky to surrender into the unknown, the breaking open, but therein lies what our hearts and souls long for: the freedom to embrace life and love ever more fully.