As much I was would have dearly loved to stick my head in the sand and continue ignoring the issues that came up today, they would not be silenced.
I started the day with feeling nauseous, which is usually my cue that my energy is shifting, and I should be prepared for who knows what!
After a brief ‘altercation’ with P over an old work issue that we’ve rehashed many times without resolution, I realised that the only reason it was coming up was to serve us. It wasn’t about the details or even the emotions or even our relationship, it was simply something energetic that needed to be dealt with.
And even just in looking it at that way, rather than getting caught up in all the drama, I felt the issue starting to change. I also immersed myself in the soundtrack from Pitch Perfect, which seems like my current music of choice for helping energy to move.
And then I got the shakes. It’s more like an imperceptible hum, an all-over body vibration, that sounds like it could be pleasant, but in fact feels a lot like a detox. So much like it, that I’d say that’s what it was. Then I started feeling dizzy, so I decided to skip my walk today.
And then my head started tingling so hard that it hurt. Right across the back of my head. Ouch. A bit like what happens when P rubs my back, but a lot more intense and a lot less pleasant.
At one point I glanced at my computer screen, and it looked like I was watching a TV show that had a computer screen in it. In other words, it seemed unreal, like it wasn’t actually in front of me. And then it snapped back to being my screen.
And then I started losing control of my left arm. I was trying to enter bookkeeping paperwork at the time, and although I discovered that I can do it one-handed, it’s not the most efficient way to do it, and certainly not my preferred approach.
As I walked to the tearoom for lunch, I had the distinct impression that I was peering out into the world through a spacesuit. Like I was wearing this body around in order to access this experience, but it wasn’t actually me.
I went through a couple of cycles of this, where my arm started working again, and then the tingling started all over again, and around I went. In fact, my arm stayed on and off for quite a while, and it only came back when I dealt with what was really going on.
It wasn’t until I cancelled my Pilates class, and worked through my anxiety about explaining my ‘idiopathic sleep paralysis’ to my Pilates teacher by talking it out with P, that I got to the heart of my issue.
I’m not a match to my Pilates class any more, and I didn’t want to face up to it.
Because what I’d noticed is that a number of these odd ‘energetic’ experiences had just happened to occur on the same day as my Pilates class over the last couple of months, preventing me from going. And I had wondered quietly to myself whether there was a reason for this.
Once I started (reluctantly) verbalising this to P, I also realised that my spirit had told me quite a few times, in a few different ways recently, that I needed to be more and more careful about who I spend time around. That I need to stay away from others more and more.
And I also realised that I’ve had these answers for a little while and I haven’t wanted to see them.
I need to explain something here. I LOVE my Pilates class. It’s the first time I’ve found any kind of exercise that I have stuck at. For over five years. I never do the same thing for that long. I started 18 months before T was born, and I’ve done it most every week since then. I love what it has given me and I love the body that is emerging because of it.
I’m not ready to give it up!
And yet, once I spoke the words, I felt their truth. I’m not a match to my class any more. Maybe it’s the other students, maybe it’s the teacher, maybe it’s just that I need to withdraw further. But for whatever reason, it’s not working for me, and my body is using my NSTP to give me a very clear message that I can’t ignore.
And what do you know, as soon as I accepted the possibility of letting go of my Pilates class, my left arm started working normally again. OK, OK, I get it, but that doesn’t mean I like it.
While I was working through my grief and resistance to the idea, my spirit kept telling me that I was making space for something better, even if I can’t see what that is right now. I have to trust that that’s what’s going on, but I’m having a hard time with that.
You see, isolating myself from people is a pattern I’ve seen before. It used to be a reflection of a person who was unhealthy and out-of-balance, but now it’s showing up as an inspired, aligned choice.
But I’m having trouble separating the two. In fact, I’m starting to see echoes of many patterns from my past, but this time they’re emerging as healthy, inspired, right-path choices. The memories of the old versions still remain, however. And I’m afraid that I’m making bad choices.
I’m also afraid that I’m making up all of this ‘mystical’, ‘spiritual’ stuff up, and using it as an excuse to do things that will harm me in the long run. That sounds like self-preservation talk from my ego, using fear and doubt to undermine my guided choices, and it’s very good at it.
I’m struggling to trust the process, because I can’t see what comes next, and I guess I’m not trusting that it will be better than what I have now. More courage is required, so I can look forward, and keep taking one step at a time into the unknown.
And then I realise that I must have chosen this – this lifetime, this whole experience – because when confronted with fear and uncertainty, my strongest desire is to push through harder and faster. OK, this is happening, let’s get on with it.
And so I did. One issue was not enough for today apparently, or perhaps I just processed it really fast, because later this afternoon, I came across an article titled The Day I Stopped Saying ‘Hurry Up’.
It’s the story of a mother’s realisation that her constant pushing of her “slow” child to hurry up, meant that she was missing out on everything that mattered.
And as I read it, I saw myself in every word, and it broke my heart. I had a brutally honest image of myself thrust into my direct vision. It was confronting and uncomfortable, but there’s no ignoring it now.
By my standards, both of my kids move too slowly and I’ve said harsh words to them along these lines so often. Now I have some habits I want to change and I’m so grateful to have been shown it now, while I have the opportunity to make a different choice.
But boy, what a day!