We all seem to ask ourselves that question, “What can I learn from this?”, when life presents things that make us uncomfortable. Often, there are many things that we can take from life’s “lessons”. Though I like to look at them more like, You trying to show You something. A better way of looking at things, an easier approach, or something that causes you to reach higher and claim the part of you that has evolved.
I’m going through one of those periods right now. They come around often, but some are more activating than others. Some come over you like a rogue wave in a steady ocean. Taking you for a ride you didn’t see coming.
One thing remains constant in every “lesson” or presentation that life reveals. It compels you to see yourself. For your foundation to come forward, all parts of you become magnified. The parts that fear, the parts that hope. The darkest beliefs and your deepest resilience. You step forward to meet the waves of life and you get to know yourself in how you react.
Who am I? What do I believe? What do I turn to when I can’t feel ground beneath my toes? What steadies me, is it anger or hope? Or both? And later, who do I want to be? How do I want to respond to The Uncomfortable?
One lesson that seems apparent for me right now is one of tempering. Not tempering extremes, but feeling out the middle way between definitive states.
I employed so many safety measures to “deal with life”, as we all do. I’ve had to let go of these as my understanding has deepened and my ability to choose who I am has become more accessible. One of these safety measures was ignoring the middle ground, the process, the step-by-step. I didn’t like in-betweens or transitions. Even dusk and dawn caused me anxiety. Not quite night and not quite daytime.
Now, I stand outside at those times of natural transition and I breathe. I feel the shift and let myself flow with the change. It’s okay. Old energies fade away, new awareness steps forward.
Here again, I find myself directed to step into the middle way. The undecided place. Where it’s not about life or death, it’s about a journey. Not blazing forward into life or releasing into death, but walking the path of ‘figuring things out‘. Taking it step by step.
We’re quick to make a prognosis or to want a prognosis. “Just give it to me straight.” Hurrying to find out whether something is alive or over. Hurrying so we can settle into place emotionally. But what about that in-between place? What if we step off the fast track to finalities and walk a bit into the place where things are getting reorganized?
In all my travels, I haven’t ventured there purposefully. I feel myself called there now: the uncomfortable place.
I feel called to rename it. The place of peaceful unfolding. The place of possibility. The place of gentle movement. Where things aren’t defined by an outcome, but shaped by what you do and who you are as you walk down that slower path.
And I find myself willing. Willing to walk slow. Willing to not need or demand, but ask and listen the best that I can. Not to be desperate for outcome, but willing to be with the journey. Step-by-step. To replace my pain with something new. Understanding maybe. Connection maybe.
This takes a different kind of strength. The strength to walk slow and sure. Slow and steady. Willing and available for love to intervene. Face pointed upward, letting the waves of light softly do their work.
A different kind of healing. One that hovers softly in the in-between space.
One that takes a different kind of strength.
And I am willing.