Katherine Willow’s monthly diary
It’s Friday evening and I’m sitting on the couch beside a fire that cuts the chill. I’ve been low energy for the last two weeks, behind in every possible way. At the same time, my life is moving inside and outside with an undeniable force.
If I resist it, I clog up, literally. . . emptying boxes of tissues. If I let go, my body feels weightless, just a tube of energy with a hollow in the centre through which life moves.
And at the same time again, I am more than ever in touch with my old issues and reactions through the meditation course and all the awareness exercises we do for homework, feeling raw pain underneath everything I do .
It could be downright confusing if I didn’t know how human beings heal and grow. . . and sometimes it’s downright confusing anyway. I remind myself not to be ashamed when I feel like a child. . . or when I don’t know what I’m feeling. . . or when I go unconscious, on automatic pilot for days at a time. . .
We breathed through it and I was able to unfold from my seated fetal position and speak normally again. No stories or conjectures about what that was about; it simply needed to be released from my body and mind.
I let go of being embarrassed about still needing to do this, about being so wounded and vulnerable and out of control. Afterwards I was fragile and even more raw. Coming home I could only rest, pushing away the pressure of a hundred emails waiting.
After the nap, energy flooded back, my nose cleared, my mind resurfaced and I was able to meet with a potential project manager to discuss how to realize our dreams for the centre and community.
Driving Felix to his mother’s later on, my energy was contagious for my grandson, who spontaneously piped up from his car seat, “I love you Nana!” I love you too Felix, thank you for joining our family, we are so blessed to have you with us!!
It’s downright weird to be in the middle of this transition, even though I’ve been working toward it for decades. It’s the road versus the map, the body versus the intellect, the experience versus the theory. It’s like being on a roller coaster where the only way to have fun is to relinquish control. Not easy for a control freak. . . but being terrified all the time is worse.
I do everything I know to support the process: eat well, take supplements, move toward a cleanse, exercise, meditate, talk honestly to the people around me, receive some bodywork, write, sleep enough, cut too many corners at work, miss too many emails and learn to trust. Remember to stop and breathe into whatever is; even briefly makes a huge difference.
I’ll simply be able to do what I’m doing with less strain, reach out to my daughters with more love, enjoy healthy friendships and contribute my patch of peace to the species while being able to accept our collective pain as part of our process instead of wanting to fix the world so that I can feel safe. I suspect I won’t need and create so much drama in my life.
I take a deep breath. It’s enough for now.
Thank you for listening; you who read this have become part of my path. . . by witnessing my process you support it. I send you appreciation and warm regard.
In humble awe,