Finding Your Way

Sometimes figuring out what to do next spins us right into overwhelm.

This ain’t no wussy overwhelm either. This is the chock full of  tears, teeth nashing, crap between your teeth from all the stuff you’ve eaten to fill the void you dare not examine overwhelm. This is the overwhelm that makes you want to stay in bed. Forever.

Lean into it.

What the hell…really? Lean into chaos? Lean into more fritos and sour cream? Lean into the squishy feeling in the pit of my stomach? Mmmm…No. Thank you. No.

Allow. Make a container for the overwhelm and sit with it.

Like that’s gonna happen. I’ll implode. I’ll explode. I’ll … I’ll… start crying and never ever stop. Allow it.       What. F*****. Ever.

Get in your body. Feel your feet on the floor. Feel your back against the chair. Feel. Let yourself feel.

You’re killing me here. How’s that supposed to help.

Just try.

For a moment, give yourself space to breathe, to allow something, anything to bubble up. Don’t shove it back down. Let it come up to the light.

Breathing in. Breathing out. Lacing up my shoes for a walk. Maybe I’ll try this thing today. Maybe I’ll see what can happen.

My body zigged on the walking trail when usually I zagged. Not the paved trail. Not the usual way. Some other part of me that had taken over. I let her because, I reasoned, I could use a little help.

I walked and imagined another place and time. I imagined myself sitting within a boundary of color with enough space to move around, like my own little colored cave of safety.

I imagined magic parchment paper in front of me. Every thought I had that kept me in chaos, every fear that fueled my procrastination, every perfectionistic tendency that quelled my creativity was given space to move out of my being onto the parchment paper.

The movement was meditation. The movement allowed me to go deep and imagine without judgement.

I imagined myself writing. I shook my body as I walked and imagined the shaking released atoms and microbes and bad chi that the parchment paper pulled to itself like a magnet.

I filled the first parchment paper and moved to the second.

I filled the second and moved on to the third.

I filled the third and caught myself crying. When did that start?

I filled the fourth, kept walking, and in my mind rolled up the papers and tied them closed. I threw them out of my circle, through the colored boundary keeping me safe, and watched as the sun burned it all up.

I was startled by a deer ten feet away. I don’t know how long I’d walked. I was back in my body. Calmer. Still-er than I had been in a long, long time. Unmoving, the deer watched me. I said hello. She said hello. I laughed. I was tired. What in the world had just happened…

Space created. Healing happened. Breath flowing where it had not in forever.

I read about this exercise in The Language of Emotion, a fabulous book by Karla McLaren. Dunno if it will work for you but I do know this:

To find your way you must create space to move, to breathe, to flow.

You can do it. Yes. You. Can.

I’m creating a new life for myself, finding, intuiting a new way to be in the world.

I’ll be writing much more about  navigating the space between here and there.

What does that look like for you right now?

Death? Divorce? Job change? Spiritual Awakening?

What are you walking away from…and more importantly, what are you walking towards?

That’s what I’ll be writing about for the next little while and I invite you to join me on the journey. If you signed up for this blog/newsletter long ago and this isn’t for you, the unsubscribe button is right down there at the bottom. Go find something that feeds you exactly in the place you need to be fed.

I’ll see the rest of you soon.

New teleseminar 10/20. Want more information? Have a look here…Death and the Divine