The invitation to write an article about spring led me directly into a paradox.
My heart instantly shouted “yes, I´ll do it” and my mind cautiously responded “why did I say yes? What am I going to write about?"
As I pondered on this sense of being pulled in two directions, I listened to the questions that came to me: How does my life tie into this continuum of change?
What does my heart have to say and my mind struggles with? What is the tension between my joyful willingness and my resistance to delve deeper?
Six months ago, winter was approaching and with it came a period of pause. I had been traveling and teaching for some months and the momentum of it had become very demanding. I often noticed myself thinking of the time I would be able to put my suitcase away, to sleep in my own bed and have time to be with my family.
This thought of rest and a chance to move inward, deep within the recesses of my being, came from a true longing. However when the time came to do that, I was surprised by the resistance rising up in me, not wanting to let go of the pace of activity. I felt time had caught up with me, and I could not remember how to let go.
I found solace in my self-treatments, feeling comfort in the quietude of my mind by reciting the Reiki Principles and focusing my attention on whichever one had more energy in that moment. This helped me look at my resistance to change, and I noticed that I was worried about letting go of what had been useful, productive and joyful, and fearful of “loosing” my momentum and sense of self. I smile now, remembering my struggle with the force pulling me inward, asking for more and more silence and stillness. I often felt I was being sucked into a dark well. I felt afraid and anxious, not knowing if I would know how to find my way back.
In a recent workshop offered by Paul Mitchell, he encouraged us to look at the possibility of learning to be more and more comfortable in our discomfort, of opening spaces within ourselves that can hold the tension of two forces pulling in opposite directions. He suggested this is as an indication of our human experience. My experience of winter was a natural, biological desire to come to a place of rest and hibernation and plunge into much needed time for silence, integration and recuperation. I recognized that my busy mind was striving to maintain the illusive control of outward activity, and going against the natural order of nature´s seasons.
Many weeks later, while giving a Reiki treatment, I felt at peace. I had now found my place in the cool and quietness of my being, restored paths of inner communication and self awareness, enjoyed cold nights under the soft warmth of my blankets, but a new creeping resistance was coming over me. I smiled as I realized that I was revisiting the same paradox: I was resisting Life´s call to another change of season. The colours and the air were telling me to prepare myself for spring, to allow my budding energy to pierce the cool stillness of my resting rhythm.
As I began to write, I could feel the tenderness of new projects and desires not fully formed yet, they seemed still too fragile to see the light of day, and I felt protective of them. I also know this is my resistance speaking. I feel tentative when I look at my yearly schedule and try to imagine what my focus and places of travel will be. The world feels large to me, filled with unknown possibilities and opportunities, with their corresponding opposites.
So I wonder, what can Nature teach me about following natural order? How can I let go and be in tune with the unequivocal force of primordial rhythms. Just as my breath exists often without my awareness of it, seasons have innate cycles of expansion and contraction.
It is in my practice of Reiki that I find the pace of my true self, aligning with the gradual awareness of my inhalations and exhalations, finding relief in my sighs. Seasons are organic, just as I am organic in my human experience. There is time for internal dwelling and space for outward motion, and room enough for all the places found in between these two points. I know this to be true, because I experience it while giving and receiving treatments. For a moment the energy feels still, deep, extremely quiet and in the next moment the person, or I, fill with expansive space and a deep, relaxed exhalation occurs.
So why do I spend so much energy resisting change, when all I have to do is let go and be with what Nature so beautifully offers me? I do not have an answer for this, just a sense that by surrendering to the natural longing of my body to follow the need to retreat when winter approaches, and trusting the surge of new ideas and impulses to plant the seeds of new projects and passion, is enough for all the rest to follow gladly.
I currently live in Cuernavaca rightfully called the City of Eternal Spring, in Mexico and I can see and feel how vibrant Spring energy is. The year starts with the flowering of a beautiful yellow tree, which radiates vitality and freshness. Many others follow this magnificent colorful blossoming and the life force present in their hues and textures instantly fill me with joy and gratitude.
Taking the time to cultivate my capacity to be in the moment along with the willingness to surrender to this natural and organic unfolding, offers me spaces in my body and my soul in which to dance, choreographing change and transition, letting go and surrendering to Nature´s perfection.
