There is a story in my body – a story of joy and a story of suffering, a story imprinted in my flesh of adopted beliefs and weathered patterns of being.
I have a belief. My body records it. With devotion to my higher good, my body informs me of my ways. It unfailingly wears my happiness, fears, pain, doubt, informing me through these tissues and bones in service to my heart, all knowing, all seeing.
My body hears my heart calling for a change in that belief, so it demonstrates the belief in physical form in order for me to transform it…on the physical level, the thinking level, the feeling level, the being level.
I pause to listen to the advice of this worn vessel and then almost as soon as I acknowledge the pattern in the body, the beliefs begin to dissolve, reshaping my existence, restoring my wellness.
The body lets go of tension, no longer gripping to accommodate the familiar. The battering patterns melt away, initiating a flow of healing…through the body, into the heart.
Have you ever noticed there is a natural rhythm to the flow of things? When you are in sync with that energetic rhythm there is no resistance – everything flows.
Try to push or pull against the natural flow of your experience and it causes turbulence, imbalance and the potential for unnecessary suffering.
To reduce the discomfort, increase the pause. Slow the looking and the feeling. Sip it in until you can interpret the rhythm.
When I connect with my breath – the rhythmic pattern of inhale and exhale – it shows me the resistance, the tension, and where there may be imbalance. I can chose to ride the breath as it is or invite a shift. Either way, I am getting into the flow, balancing on the crest, and engaging a more comfortable and sustainable way of being.
When I pulse instead of push – on the breath, on sounds, on tastes, on interactions with others, or my experiences – there is a symmetry and unending sense that all is OK.
It distorts my view. I become disoriented as it wraps around me.
I am afraid. All that is familiar is disappearing before me.
I am now isolated in its grips. It presses in upon my weary bones and tests the strength of my very constitution.
Somehow I find the courage to endure its press upon me as it softly whispers…”trust me.”
And just when the weight feels too much to bear, I surrender. I surrender the need to know what lies beyond. I trust that the weathered framework that is me will endure.
And then the winds shift and rays of sun seep in. My surroundings reappear with some familiarity and yet a brightness and clarity that tunes my eyes to seeing what went before unnoticed.
In uncoiling from this temporary isolation, I see that I am still here. I have withstood the pressure in the mist of the unknown.
All is brighter and inviting now as I embrace this new vision and carry on.
Funny how we assign emotions, assume other’s perspectives, and assimilate outside experiences as our own.
The body works so hard to represent the advisory panel of our thoughts, feelings, and sensations, but sometimes it doesn’t always get that representation right. Sometimes we read too much into posture, expression, engagement. We jump to conclusions.
All along, it’s just a series of labels we attach to things to create order — an illusion that we have some sort of control.
Let the labels wash away and then what is there? Energy — plain and simple chemical reactions — that whimsically attach to illusions. Eliminating the labels, we engage our intuition, not just our eyes, to interpret our surroundings. It is not always what I see that informs, but how it bumps up against me energetically.
The real gift in communication and connection is tapping into that energy.
Bored…or relaxed?
Impatient…or enthusiastic?
Sad…or peaceful?
Or maybe the energy isn’t connected to the expression at all.
Lose the labels…make the deeper connections…feel the power in knowing beyond seeing.
We talk about coming together as family, friends, community. Of course, we are social beings and need one another to share experiences, confide in, lean gently upon, and confidently hold up.
Yet, so often, in our coming together we climb over one another, talking over top of each other, thinking into each other, never really arriving in that space of coming together at all.
Even when we play together, our words, feelings, and bodies get in between.
What if we were to sit or lie down beside each other? Comfortably, safely, in our own individual space, yet together in one place.
What if we were to close our eyes, quiet our thoughts, cease the chatter, and agree to simply be there…not to sleep, but to rest side-by-side and unconditionally hold a soft space of awareness for ourselves and each other in silence.
Then, as we drift beyond the container of the body, a dance begins…a dance of the breath, of connection without words, of equal sharing in this seemingly timeless space.
It is in this space where we are equals, where we listen to the songs of others, where we simultaneously share everything and nothing, where we see each other as we see ourselves, where we are in this skin but somewhere else.
A palpable collaboration takes place in this precious space of collective rest — wakeful, conscious allowing of the stillness, allowing of our being, allowing of one another.
Maybe it is not in a board room or at the family dinner table or on the basketball court where we can do the most leaning on, supporting of, and accepting of one another. Maybe it is actually in this space of shared rest where we can find the greatest power in our coming together.
