In the last 2 weeks the universe asked me to navigate with the highs and lows, the peaks and the valleys, the darkness and the light and to be present to the beauty of my life.
I celebrated my 32nd birthday and received cards, gifts and birthday wishes from family and friends. Surrounded myself with laughter at
Stevie Ray's Comedy Cabaret for my improv birthday party. Captured natures change from greens into golden and red hues. And I did this all, while I was on a trip.
The Trip
A week before my birthday, a connection with inner wisdom let me know the trip was about to begin. My ticket already scanned, baggage handled and the only thing I could do was hold on, because it just might be a bumpy ride. I found myself protesting the inevitability of lesson learning and with arms crossed and a ferocious stubbornness, I exclaimed,
"I don't want to go." For I knew the destination, knew the mode of transportation wouldn't be via plane, train or automobile, but what I didn't know (and that unknown scared me the most) was what would happen when I got there.
The journey flew me inward, (though to say it "flew me", is being kind, it felt more like I landed with a thud.) Placed smack dab in the middle of the light less cave I've come to identify with as
"a place I learn from". A place where pain, loneliness and fear reside. Where old patterns are familiar and standing still is common. And as much as I resisted, the longer I found myself stuck. And even in my spitefulness, I knew something valuable was to be learned. That I'd discover a piece essential for me to continue to move forward, as well as a piece for me to release with love. Thing is, I just didn't know if I actually wanted to do the work.
The Work
It was emotionally triggering to find myself back in that space. Though this time, I was going to try something different. I was going to allow it to be what it was, to meet it where it is and support myself where I was at. To really be in it, beside it and with it, all while finding a healthy space between who I truly am and what the old patterns were. To accept the journey, release resistance and stay connected with compassion. My constant avoidance hadn't worked in the past and I knew it wouldn't work this time either. It felt liberating and so amazingly scary to give it a try, I didn't know how it would turn out.
There were occasions of tear stained cheeks, (honestly, I think I've cried more in the last 2 weeks, than I had in a year.) Times when anger overshadowed compassion and I lashed out. Moments when my heart ached so deeply, I just wanted to be surrounded by people I loved. Questions unfolded before me as windows of light began shining in through the walls of the cave.
How do I see the old patterns for what they are, and even more lovingly as a gift and a teacher? How do I trust that the sun is there, even though I cannot see it beyond the clouds? And how do I support myself as I navigate deeply?
It felt clumsy and awkward and I often found myself bumped up against my old pattern of avoidance. Awoken at a whole new level, my struggles were around thinking I
"couldn't do it," "nothing will change," and "
it's hard work." There were times it really felt that way, heavy and dark and it was a lot of work. So I desired distractions, though strangely enough many of the distractions fell away. (Yet another sign to really "be in it.")
Other thoughts crept in,
"I could eat to stuff this down," "I could shop my way around this," and
"I could pretend it doesn't exist." And while there were a few navigational tools I used to numb out (Television. Social media. Sleep.) I also brought in tools that I am proud of. Reaching out to my support network, allowing loving souls to see me at my most vulnerable. Pouring love into needlecrafts. Sitting next to the river for reflection. Gazing off into the sky for introspection. Writing for release. And being beside myself with as much care, self-compassion and nurturing I could muster.
The piece that I am the most proud of:
I made food choices that were nourishing, fulfilling and portioned for my loving tummy. While the thought may have been there to stuff down my emotions, I made choices that supported the way I want to feel, rather than what I don't want to feel. Feeling better, alive and engaged, those are present when food provides me nourishment and doesn't serve as a coping mechanism.
Always Learning
I did all of those things and it's not that today
"I'm done" with the processing of the layers or that when I find myself emotionally triggered, that I won't soon find my bags packed headed back to the cave to stand still. It's just that today, there is clarity. A veil lifted, compassion surrounded and the acknowledgement that while at times I felt minuscule, unworthy, at my personal worst; beyond that, bigger than me, there was a loving space of trust, compassion and nurturing care.
Where I am at, what I'm doing and how I navigate is filled with all the pieces of a life lived with intention. Life is about all of it, so let the fun and fabulous moments replenish and nourish the soul and allow the beautifully vulnerable moments of heart holding anchor in to connect with the most sacred space of life living.
"Be patient and present.
Allow the tears to release and cleanse what cannot be spoken.
Know that by being beside it, you are making space for it."
Whispered inner wisdom.
With Love, Jan
Last month I wrote about my first few weeks with my intermediate improv class at Stevie Ray's. And there was a part of me that thought I was going to give in and give up and yet I stuck with it. Not because of the money or my pride, no, there was a deeper reason, I just needed to remember it.
I was nervous! Yes, I get butterflies too. Though as the 16 of us improv students huddled in the green room, I set an intention: Have fun and put out love. The 60 minutes of showtime flew and being able to hear a room filled with laughter is uplifting and loving.
