A little like one of those slides at the playground, the ones that follow a wave-like movement and snake you all the way down to the ground, sometimes taking your stomach with it.
Life, for me, also changed when I had the epiphany that my body (and I believe all bodies, but that’s a theory for another post, I suppose) was absorbing the energy of life around me, and I was reacting heavily based on whatever it was absorbing. Needless to say: learning, and exploring, the term Empath changed my life. And learning about subtle energy and meditation changed it even more.
This morning—all in the space of an hour—I’ve had memories resurface that (although I missed the memo at the time) were very obvious signposts as to my body’s highly sensitive nature. I’ll never forget, about a million years ago, sitting in the passenger seat of our old clunker with my Dad at the wheel. Every morning we would travel to our shared workplace together, and every morning, in a confused state of discomfort, I would shudder as I listened to the morning show hosts chatter away.
I adored the two of them. The whole town did, actually, they were a beautiful pair. But. They were extremely negative, and always it felt like there was a heaviness or grumpiness to their chatter that had me dreading the morning commute. It was confusing because I liked them. It was horrible because they felt so entirely uncomfortable within my body.
I now understand that this is because of the way that I am built, that the more dense the feeling I’m exposed to, the more I tend to flounder. As a result, a good amount of alone time is extremely important for me to get back into the middle of me. Extremely important. (Have I mentioned how important alone time is for me? Very.)
It’s not all bad, though. If grumpiness feels completely horrible to me, you might be able to guess how absolutely beautiful love feels within my tiny human frame. And nature. And music— oh good heavens, don’t even get me started on the absolute purity that music fills me with. It feels like a beautiful wind. A wind that twists and frees my body in ways I never thought possible.
Anyhow, it’s a journey. A beautiful adventure, filled with tears and joy and all the horrible lovely things. Where to next?
Have you ever stood in an angry ocean and fought to keep your balance?
Have you ever been out walking in a gale and desperately tried to continue walking in a straight line?
Have you ever mowed the lawn and realised the hills in the backyard were absolutely not made for lawn mowers (more specifically, humans with little patience, with lawn mowers.)
Opposition everywhere. Challenges of control, everywhere.
Why did you fight what was, do you think, rather than going in the direction the opposing force was taking you?
How did it feel when you were fighting?
There was resistance in the body and the mind, wasn’t there. Your muscles were tensing, and your mind was fighting the natural way of things because your mind told you that the ‘right’ way was for ‘you’ to remain in control.
Your mind told you that you were the centre of the universe, in those moments, didn’t it. That if the force wasn’t with you, it was against you, and omg how dare it be against you. (cue anger, frustration, pain, and probably all the f*#@s.)
We’ve all been surviving for so very long in a way that goes against the natural way of things. Who could blame us for fighting, though, when we haven’t even been aware of the whole earth/universe/human connection thing.
We say things like ‘go with the flow’ because we hear that sort of thing in childhood, but no one really explained what it meant, because no one really thought about it for too long. Go with the flow? But what does that even mean?
No one knew. Until they finally did.
Until they had no choice but to surrender to the ocean that was. Until they’d stood against the windy backdrop of life, been knocked off their feet, and realised, finally, that there was no point in fighting for control of the ocean, the sky, the sun, the rain.
Or, you know, the back lawn.
Over the past twenty four hours, the universe has taught me a lesson that’s been in the making for a lifetime (I’m 37, lol, how dramatic am I?) and even though I’ll go back to being the forgetful muffin I was yesterday, today I see the lesson and I know the truth of it down to my bones.
It feels much nicer to become the wind that blows you, rather than to resist the flow of what just is. However frustrating the wind, the sea, the back lawn. It just is. And if it was going to be any other way…it would be.
Today, I saw the ocean I’ve been battling, the one that’s tossed me around for so, so, so long. My first instinct was to fight it. Instead, I became aware of the wave, and then I became it. I let go of what if, and I surrendered to what is.
And though it meant that ‘I’ wouldn’t be getting ‘my’ way…I somehow knew there was no point in fighting the natural way of things.