I found my calendar from 2005. As I thumbed through it, I was amazed to see almost every single day jam packed with activities, from morning through the evening. Most weekends were inked with retreats, Reiki trainings, workshops or classes, as well. I had a 5 year old and a high schooler. Bill says those were my “fat, crabby days” and I think he’s accurate, much as I hate to admit it. I should say, “My fat, crabby TIRED days.” Three years ago I experienced what I call my ‘crash.’ It was after some health and life concerns with a child, my husband, and mom. Then came my healing crisis, which lasted for almost a year. During that time I rearrange a lot of my life. I stopped teaching Reiki and having regular gatherings and healing circles. I stopped going to Retreat and stopped teaching classes and other workshops. I quit one Board. I thought that was all pretty good.
But since January 1st, since these “Sun-Making” times, as I’ve come to fondly call them, I’ve noticed that it’s STILL too much, whatever I’m doing on this physical plane, and I’m watching other things falling away - parts of my Work, my writing, my community involvement. As I watch, I’m struck with a profound thought - what if I stop doing EVERYTHING I’ve been doing? Who will I be then? What will I be doing? How will my life change? Is this what I need to do right now? Totally let go of everything I’ve been doing? I’m loathe to give it ALL up, because I thrive with routine. For being such a spontaneous, creative character, you might find this odd, but it’s totally true. It helps give me a sense of rhythm and schedule. That’s why I love the four distinct seasons so much. Otherwise I’m afraid my days would just melt into one big sunshiney time, and I’d get fuzzy (that’s what the thought is, anyway). When there are cycles, predictable things that punctuate my days and months and years, I feel more grounded, more connected, more secure, clearer.
But I almost feel as if I’ve been holding tightly to a rope that’s been keeping me ashore for 49 years, and I can feel my grip loosen, and for once in my life I wonder what would happen if I just totally let go and just let the current carry me downstream. I don’t know. It’s a new thought for me - 2 weeks, actually, as issue after issue has magically arisen for me to examine. I thought I’d be doing ________ for a long time - I LOVE doing _________, but all of a sudden, I’m not so sure of much of anything anymore. “Let’s move to Vermont,” I said to Steve last night. “Okay,” he said. He always knows the right thing to say to me. “Where in Vermont?” “Bennington, or somewhere south, near Massachusetts so we can go to Boston and eat seafood.” Somehow it made perfect sense to him. What is this fresh madness? What is it that’s having me walk through my house and wonder what I’d take and what I’d leave. What is it that thinks I’d be happy just walking away from my life of 25 years here and starting totally over somewhere else?
I don’t necessarily think it’s a PHYSICAL thing - I think it’s a more of a symbolic thing. What have I been holding onto, what serves me, what no longer serves me? When I think about it, I’m shocked that I could ever DO as much as I used to do - right now it seems physically impossible. With all of the Work being done on all these other levels we’d probably totally fry our circuits if we tried to keep up the pace. I’ve heard a lot of people say they can’t do a tenth of the things they USED to be able to do. That’s what I’m talking about. But I’m wondering - do we have to give up EVERYTHING? Will I give up everything? Or just some more ‘things?’ I don’t know right now - it’s still a work-in-progress. I’ll keep you posted, though. This should get really interesting.