I felt so insecure, so scared. At the dinner table with our neighbors. On a Zoom meeting with a colleague. Even though I did my best to “stay strong and carry on,” something I mastered long ago, beneath the surface was a very tender, very young part of me who was freaking out.
I’ve been on self-quarantine in the face of the COVID-19 pandemic for almost a week. My husband and I finally settled down to rest yesterday, exhausted but happy after a flurry of heavy labor as we wrap up a big building project. We rarely take a day off to just lay around and “do nothing,” but we did. And it was good. And the more relaxed I got, the more I noticed that undercurrent of anxiety still running below the surface.
I could have attributed it to all kinds of things, and my mind really wanted to— from the obvious: global panic and anxiety about the pandemic, to the familiar: old, looping thoughts of I’m not doing enough. I should be doing more. But I knew that if I dropped below the thinking into the heart of it, a different, more meaningful answer would emerge, one that would likely hold the seed of a new possibility waiting to be born in me or through me.
So finally this morning I paused to spend some time alone with myself without distractions, below the surface, where the undercurrents of fear and so much else were streaming.
What is this underlying fear and insecurity calling me into?
I closed my eyes and felt the weight of my body imprinting into the seat beneath me— the fleshiness of muscles and skin, the sturdiness of bone.
A fuller breath naturally came in and out.
My shoulders spontaneously dropped a little. And another fuller breath flowed in and through.
A swirling sensation in my head, from a million thoughts moving a million miles an hour, quickly gave way to a pulsing sensation in my temples.
Another deeper breath arose. And with it a sudden awareness of a dull pain in my upper left jaw. Then within seconds… a pulsing at its center… pulse… pulse… pulse…
And no more pain.
All at once, more space opened for me inside. I didn’t feel so crowded by the thoughts, the frenzied doing, the younger, scared parts of myself clamoring for attention.
I hadn’t even realized until that moment just how terrifically crowded I was by it all.
Deeper breath… Then a growing experience of stillness and peace.
A teaching metaphor about awareness bubbled up from the stillness: Most of us tend to live most of the time in just one small room when we really have a whole, huge, beautiful castle to spread into.
With that simple awareness, my chest softened and a gentle warmth flooded my torso. My attention followed the movement of warmth and I felt myself expand effortlessly into the next wing of the castle that had been there the whole time, waiting.
Another much bigger, much deeper breath breathed me, like a sigh. New castle rooms opened to me — a grand hallway and a grander, empty ballroom with a glowing fire. I expanded into them, breathing and basking in all this goodness. Nothing to do, fix, or make happen. No pain, insecurity, or fear. No thinking or doing, time limits or to do lists. Just space, stillness, goodness.
This was the simple invitation the scared, tender one in me had been attempting to send me. Just this. And for now it was enough. More than enough. It was everything.
I knew the seed that most wanted to be planted through me would rise from this space, from Source, to reveal the next inspired step of inspired action or non-action called for.
I remained still. I listened openly. I spread my awareness into the empty space of this grand castle. A seed reached out its tendrils… it was growing this experience of formlessness, timelessness, serenity.
And for now it was enough. More than enough. It was everything.
What undercurrents are calling you below the surface?
Please comment. I’d love to know what you’re swimming in.
Signing off from the deepest, most delicious space and stillness.
With love and presence, I see you.
Lisa
Image credit: Jude Mooney Photography