Tendrils of Awareness
I’ve always experienced moments of deep inner clarity and connection when I’m in a bout of illness. Perhaps it’s because I spend so much time resisting the sickness when I feel it approaching, that when it finally takes hold, when it is no longer deniable, I have no choice but to surrender. It’s like a bad break up— when you’re in that space of full “NO”, pushing back against what is, life is unclear. But when you finally give in and open yourself up to the process, then life hands you the teachings as simply as someone handing you an apple.
It’s that giving in, that moment of surrender, the giving up of our resistance, when the veil is lifted on the parts of ourselves that we’ve placed on the back burner. I feel this moment, in this picture, the cold and isolating experience of mid winter. It’s sort of like being sick— there’s no way to run from it, you can only go inward.
It is so easy to mosey through life without stopping to fully look at what’s within. Routine, though it can be a blessing in groundedness, also assists us in putting on our own blindfold. It can easily keep us distracted from those moments of holding up the mirror and asking “How do I want to show up?” “What brings my soul alive?”.
My clarity right now is that asking these questions doesn’t always need to yield profound answers. It doesn’t always mean a radical life change (though for some it surely can). But it can be as simple as the sudden knowing that my life needs my attention. It’s the sudden -hit you like a train- awareness that there’s a current within my being that wants to come forward. The current is an entanglement of tendrils, comprised of the need for intention, sacredness, stillness, and connection.
Instead of continuing to move into the sorrow and despair of yet another lung infection, I am here, thanking life for making me stop, so that I can see clearly what has been right here all along.