Over the past several months an internal war has been raging inside me. The kind of war that starts out small and somehow snowballs into something that we cannot escape from. My present worry companion has been that of change, my constant foe. Change and I have always had a love/hate relationship. While one part of me thrives on it, feels stagnant with similarity and dreams of far-off locals, the other half is crippled by the reality of it. As a born dreamer, it has always been easier to imagine change, rather than to face the steps it takes to get to the next stage.
The next stage for me concerns letting go of my current living situation and taking a leap of faith into another, very different situation. Due to various circumstances I found myself faced with having to let go of a home I had created in my darkest hour, a lifeline I clung to when nothing else seemed solid. The thought of giving up this piece of independence I had managed to carve for myself daunted me for months. I was being asked to give up the city life I’d created for one in the suburbs. Everything in me rustled against it.
On the other side of my fear was the option of moving in with my partner of a year and a half. A man I have come to deeply love and respect on so many levels. The move would give us an opportunity to start a commingled journey together, a path towards becoming a ‘we’ rather than ‘I.’ Despite the allure I waffled for months. I wanted to make the next step but I wanted it on my terms only!
I made the decision that I wasn’t going anywhere. I was going to choose the familiar and ‘safe’ over the unknown. I felt happy and free, glad that I had chosen my bliss. That happiness lasted until other feelings began to emerge from the ether, feelings that my yoga practice began to bring to the surface. I started to awaken old dreams, ones I had buried out of seeming necessity. Dreams that involved setting up my own domestic paradise, living closer to the calming presence of nature, especially the ocean and finding a way to connect to my spirituality on a deeper level. Without my permission my practice began to point me in a different direction.
Awakening and listening to my intuition has helped calm the storm, turning the crashing waves of my thoughts into smaller, more manageable ripples. Once again I step off my mat and realize that my fingers are not needed in every process of my life. Sometimes taking a step back and letting things just be is the most sane option we’re given. In truth, we can’t sneak around the curtain and see how it all ends, despite how much we want to. After a recent rewarding class I laid in Savasana in pure bliss, regardless of the thoughts threatening to invade my stillness. And it came to me, for a brief shining moment, that maybe the ending works out just fine, that it ends, or begins just as it was meant to.
Written while listening to Ryan Montbleau Band – Songbird