Yesterday I went to a lunchtime yoga class. There was a small rectangle of sun on the studio floor shining in from the window. I hurried to it and placed my mat down within that exact rectangle. I didn’t care that I wasn’t in line with the other mats. I just needed the sun. As I peeled my top off to reveal my sports bra and pulled my yoga tights up to my knees, and laid down, tears came to my eyes. The sun felt so good on my stomach, chest, arms and legs as it warmed me and penetrated my skin.
Tears have been a daily companion the last two weeks.
I can’t really explain them. I suppose many things have compounded at once. I just feel really sad. And sometimes really angry. One kind word from someone and I feel those tears well up in my eyes again. I quickly squeeze my eyes shut in the hope to make them go away. Crying doesn’t always feel so comfortable around people you barely know. More often than not they well over and slowly make their way down my face, as I look at people apologetically and assure them it’s not their fault.
I can explain the tears logically, pragmatically, sensibly, if I want to.
I’m coming off the traveler’s high. After 6 months of rapid movement, adventure and constant focus on what’s next, stopping and being still feels like a small death. Withdrawal has set in and I desperately want that feeling of being immersed in the sensation of the high to never end, yet I know that it’s time to stop and restore life to a softer pace. I want this. And yet I resist it.
I haven’t had real sun in about 2 months, and it is possible that I have a vitamin D deficiency. Our bodies need 10 – 20 minutes of direct sunlight on our skin every day. Without it we start to whither, much like a flower, and can feel anxious, depressed, and have a compromised immune system. People often mock me about having a hard time with winter, but you’re Austrian! And they are right. But I have spent my entire life living in summer.
I haven’t found my tribe… yet. That sort of thing takes time. And there are so many people who are barely alive, here. It hurts to see so much of humanity walk around like zombies like this. I cried to one of my best friends who lives in the UK about a few days ago. She said You often miss the real version of people… you have surrounded yourself with adventurous folk who have an open-minded global perspective… most people are boring and bored. Another friend said Welcome back to Earth. They are right. I have created a very narrowly filtered reality for myself filled with incredible human beings doing truly great things. And I intend to keep doing exactly that. Because that’s what I want to strengthen in the world. That’s why I have this space, here, and you.
On a deeper level, I think there’s a lot more going on than the practical reasons I can give to my solemn mood. Because really, my life is very, very good. A new, local friend reminded me yesterday that often when we are processing strong, heavy, challenging emotions they are not only ours. There’s a lot shifting in the world and in our stars. Those of us who are willing to feel it, do the work for all of us. That’s what lightworkers do she said.
I know exactly what I need to do during this time: allow myself to feel as uncomfortable as I feel.
These times of discomfort are always the rich fertilizer for radical transformation. I can almost taste it, there’s an urgency to what’s ahead. A sense that what will happen next is really, really different, and that I am being prepared for it. Yet I feel impatient and want to know everything, now. Cultivating radical self-trust takes all my strength and courage during times like these.
Two things are saving me during this time.
A deepening in my spiritual practice: my meditations are more insightful and powerful than ever, as I return to this connection with Source from within over and over during the days. I feel pulled to bring in more ritual and dedication to listening and connecting, and crave a space of my own to do that in. This too, will come.
And gratitude: every night before I go to sleep, I mentally walk myself through all the things that I have to be grateful for during the day that just passed. It always surprises me how many things I can find that I am truly appreciative of. The thing here, is not to just think it, but to actually feel it. It’s with feeling gratitude that my body relaxes and can absorb the loving energy that flows through from the thoughts.
Fascinatingly, I’ve never felt more creative than I do now. Creatives often bemoan the fact that they are most inspired when faced with challenge. It’s almost like that sense of loneliness, of isolation, allows us to nudge that much closer to our souls, and pour what we find inside, out. This process is to heal more than to share. And the result of the process is art.
Last Sunday I frantically created ‘Love Letters’, a free 7 day journaling course as it surged out from within me. From it has evolved an idea that has been toying with me for longer than I care to admit: a very intimate look into my daily writing and journaling practice, that I use to literally create my life. I can’t wait to reveal it to you, in a few short days, with the New Moon.