As a meditation sometimes, I draw a tiny circle with my index finger, in the palm of my other hand. The slight ticklish sensation is a distraction for sometime, against a surge of emotional overwhelm or pain. I love mixing the deeply reflective intention with a burst of action. We can be both things. I experience chronic migraines and periods, yet still clean house, write books and look after family. Just not all at once.
It’s so hard to stay with the frustration when the exhaustion (or napalm pills, as I call the medicine I dislike) takes effect. Frustration dissolves in a fuzzy wave of slumber or flitting attention. It sounds so pretty on the page of my journals, yet just as much of my acceptance happens when I cannot do anything. Crashed out on a sofa or bed, intermittently dozing and thinking in streams of thought that dovetail, in a cloud of lavender-infused air, with freeze gel tingling my skin.
So much peace comes in letting go. The days flow from creative storms and upbeat action, into the gentle flow of others, and surrendering to days where I ignore my diary. It must wait. And if it cannot, someone else responds and that is ok. From under a blanket I mutter, “Let go, just let go” and drift through the pain, as some ride I didn’t ask to be on, that will eventually end… and it does. I’m grateful for that.
Do we draw too sharply across life with our minds? Where the logical mind may see tracking and numbers, perhaps instead it is simply flow. A rhythm that is changing in every moment though led by a deeper current, that trusts what is happening and embraces all that comes towards it. The circle in my hand that I draw on my palm, is a reminder of my circle of control. I can influence only so much and moving with the moments, open and willing to adapt, makes me feel responsive rather than reactive.
I’ve done countless experiments in trying new things, going without things, doing things differently. I enjoy drinking from the well of direct experience. Releasing what isn’t aligning or healthy for me, can happen swiftly or take a long time. It is all process. The pandemic has become part of our process. A devastating thing – and knowing it will be reduced and managed at some point shimmers on the horizon – though right now we must move through the days with it ever present.
I’ve returned to meditation practises that are very simple though always work. Sitting silently – even for a minute or two. I focus on what I love in others… kindness, humour, generosity, humility… in revealing those to us, people reflect it back. I’ve been patting my heart with a soft hand, chanting I Love You’s and feeling the pain rise, sometimes tears and then it comes… a release of pressure behind my ribs. Touching on the sadness can cause a brief pain though it ebbs quickly… and then it’s wonderful and there’s peace.
February celebrates love. There are billions of expressions of love on this Earth. Every one part of the spectrum of love. From lark to birch, dancer to rainbow, petal to sea breeze. Love is for all – so include yourself in the embrace.