Solstice Reflections

Well, we made it.   Got thru another year with all of its ups, downs, sideways and all to often upside-downs and inside-outs.   Congratulations to us, though, we may still have a few remaining scars and scratches from that tumultuous ride.

Was it worth it?

It's a question I seem to ask myself every year around this time.   Despite all of our modern technologies, electricity, wifi and artificial environments, our beings are still called to honor the natural cycles.   To slow down.  Reflect.  Breathe.  Give thanks.  Take stock.   Look forward in hope.  Today, it's an opportunity to remember that we, too, are still part of the natural world and honor that tug to align to those cycles.  We feel it in our bones, as we want want to rush less, rest more, be more quiet.

So today, at the threshold of a new season, and conclusion of an old one, I allow myself that period of respite to mentally take stock of all the things that happened, the things I've learned, the things I've gained, what I've let go.  And I'm amazed.  It's been one heck of a year.   Each year I'm blown away with where my life ended up from where it began that previous January.  We get so caught up in the current crises of the day we often forget just how far we've come and lose our sense of time.   The current drama hasn't been going on forever, it just feels like it.   We've overcome much larger obstacles than these - we have the proof.  And we've had far greater victories.  We just need to remember.  Today's a good a day as any to do that.

So I dust off the memory banks and endeavor to relieve the highlights.   As I go thru my mental checklist of all the "big things" that happened this year, I'm a little shocked to see a fairly clear trend emerge.   If I had to assign a theme to this year it might be "stand up, speak out, stream line, clear out, get ready."    For what?  I wonder.  It seems, intuitively, I'm preparing for a big change on all fronts.   About clearing out the debris in my life that doesn't positively impact me, getting rid of what I no longer need - attitudes, doubts, fears, non-contributing relationships, situations - and taking active steps to alter those that I can in ways that are more in line with what I need.

Sure, there have been some sadnesses as well.  Some losses.   Some disappointments.   Though, really looking at those, they all had a purpose with something positive to take away - no regrets.   So not sure they really count as bad. At the time they might've felt a bit overwhelming but now, looking back on the entire year, they are far outweighed by the good.  Or maybe I've just learned to see something good in them and recognize the opportunity in them.   Opportunities that helped me recognize and align to the next really good thing coming around the bend.  It's that perception thing again that seems to turn the tide.  Nifty little trick, that positive thinking thing.

Maybe that's what the Mayan's meant -  that the negative world as we know it will end and we will choose to see a new world with new eyes?  I dunno.   Probably not, but that's how I'm choosing to interpret it.  Because clearly, we're still here on this "end of the world" day.  The ground did not swallow us up, the aliens did not come to take us away on their space ships.  We did not physically ascend anywhere, yet, perhaps we are internally transformed.  Maybe just a little.

I, for one, am glad for this down time today, on the shortest day of the year, to take a slight break.  To catch my breath, to give thanks for where I am, how far I've come and take a restorative break to prepare for a a new year filled with opportunity, creativity and a likely roller coaster of changes in the coming year with all kinds of new opportunities, changes, challenges and adventures just waiting.  I can sense it.  I can smell it.  If it's anything like this year, I'm going to need an extra seatbelt and a safety harness!

But, yes.  It was definitely worth it.  I'm glad the Mayan's were wrong and we have a new day for new beginnings.   I'm absolutely ready to do it again......

Happy Winter's Solstice!  May the blessings of yesterday provide building blocks to an even brighter tomorrow!

The Flight of the Butterflies

When a flock of butterflies are doing a flying trapeze act in your stomach, your fingers tingle with electricity and there's clearly no power cord coming out of your butt, you gotta wonder:  What's going on here?  Do we automatically assume we ate too much spicy food or do we actually slow down long enough to listen to our body to consider it could be something else?

Often we've been told "trust your instinct," to "go with your gut", act on what "feels" right.  However, we immediately start masking it with seemingly rational, logical explanations, dismissing what we already know subconsciously to be true in favor of some outside option instead of listening to ourselves, the best source of what's real for us.  Why is it so hard to trust that we know our own minds better than anything or anyone else?  Our bodies are wonderful alert systems - if we let them be.  The basic "fight or flight" response depends on it.   

Early cavemen knew that.  They likely didn't to stop and think and analyze if there were truly butterflies in their stomach or if they had perhaps put too much spice on the woolly mammoth steak they'd had for dinner the night before.  Their instincts were all they had and it was vital that they trust them or they would quite literally be eaten by that which would otherwise become dinner.  Though the stakes are no longer quite as high, since we are no longer in danger of killing our prospective meal before it makes a meal of us, we still have plenty of other decisions to navigate without complicating that process by consulting self-help books, Dr. Phil, Dr. Oz, therapists, support groups or psychics when we already possess the most reliable decision making tool available.  Yet, too often, we ignore it.   

When our brains push the override button, that mechanism to discern shuts down, buried under a pile of logical justifications, mental red tape, obscuring what's real.  As with any muscle, without use, atrophy sets in.  It becomes as hard to to get a straight answer out of ourselves as it is to get honesty out of a politician.  And just as convoluted.   In all of our consulting of "reliable" sources, we wind up with no real trustworthy information at all.  And how do we know that?  Our gut tells us.   Because the butterflies are still restless.  So we chalk it up to indigestion and take an antacid to shut them up.  And wonder why we still don't know.  And unrelentingly, they continue to nag at us, trying to deliver their message.  Thank goodness they don't give up on us as we've given up on them.  But it doesn't have to be this hard.

Some call it intuition, sixth sense, or simply the common sense of heightened awareness of one's surroundings, but there's no denying that something is happening, physically. Our skin starts to tingle, the hairs on the back of our neck start to rise and something in the air seems sharper, something almost tangible.  Similar to the feeling of walking down a dark alley, late at night when the air feels charged, awareness is on high alert and we can "feel" the presence of a stranger behind us.  Why?  Because we "know" if we whirl around unexpectedly we could touch it.  We know this, for fact, because our body cues us with a sense that is keener.  Primal, even.   It's like we can smell that something is....up.  And it scares us.  So we hind behind our mind again and start consulting our sources.  We've become so far removed from ourselves we know longer recognize it, let alone trust it.

The answers are already there, if only we'd look.  If it feels bad, it's a good bet that it is.  If it feels dangerous, better consider looking over your shoulder and be ready to pop the threat in the head with a good right hook.  If it feels good, it probably is or we'd have sensed the "wrongness" of it - there's no need to second or third guess it, and immediately assuming we don't know our own minds so need proof before we believe ourselves.  When did we become our own enemy?  The mind has nothing to do with it.  The mind tries to rationalize the irrational.  But our gut knows. And doesn't waste a lot of time in philosophizing or justifying.  It just states the facts.  And we tell it to stop being rude.  

Have you ever met someone that, on immediate introduction, your body just recoils and you cannot get far enough away from them.  And it has nothing to do with whether they ate garlic for lunch.  They say the right words, are perfectly polite, don't do anything considered offensive yet, for an inexplicable reason you want nothing to do with them and feel a seemingly irrationally threatened?   But how irrational is it, really?

Instead of trusting our gut, we chastise ourselves for being impolite, lecture ourselves why we shouldn't feel that way - "you have no PROOF!" we argue with ourselves, "Stop that nonsense and be nice - what's wrong with you?" ("Not a damn thing" smirks our indignant gut.  "It's so CLEAR!").  "Hush!", we say.  So we feel guilty at our uncharitable attitude and resign ourselves to smile and make nice, all the while still not sure.  And the butterflies nag at us some more.

Pretty soon, we no longer know what we think, why we think it, all we know is something's not jiving.  We start to wonder if it's us and we redouble our efforts to rationalize or explain why we should instead of accepting what is.  We let fear and mistrust win.  The mind taunts us, while the butterflies get buried by layers of logic.  We start seeking therapists to help us understand why these relationships don't make sense.  We start to listen to our friends, well meaning, but not qualified to inform us about what we are really feeling.  They are, after all... not us.  And even if we could hear them, the butterflies are no longer talking.  Their wings are laden down with the weight of too much logic and rationalization, tangled in circular arguments until they too, have a headache and given up.  Our faith in the truth, misplaced, no longer rests with ourselves.  In our quest to fit in and not appear selfish, or worse, irrational (gasp! What would people think if I did that?!) in our choices, we follow advice of what others think we should do and ignore our own instincts.  We tolerate that which we don't want and makes us uncomfortable and run from that which we do, all for the sake of appearances and misguided trust wires.  Along the way, we've forgotten to trust ourselves as navigators of our own lives.

Maybe we can try to remember that the next time the butterflies do their dance in our bellies.  Instead of reaching for the nearest antacid and the therapist's number, maybe we can just listen and not try to censor them.   Because they won't let us rest until their message is delivered, anyway.  Might as well just listen to them in the first place, and save ourselves a lot of time and angst.  If we can do that, our instinct muscles will strengthen and we won't need so much validation - and maybe we can finally remember that we already had the answers in the first place if only we'd asked ourselves and actually listened, without judgement.