My journey beyond the cancer seas
I have an inkling. An inner nudge and nod toward this newer version of me. And its only a nudge. After the past few weeks of realising how much slower I need my world to be, mind to work at body pace and not the other way around, I feel stymied. There is no end of busy to be involved with, no end of groups and projects to put energy into, no end of connections to have or places now to visit. Restrictions are up and all is open again in the Uk. I am just wondering how many of us are either burning out with the sudden race in pace and how many of us are lingering on the doorstep, unsure of what to bring, in what order and whether we even have the social skills any more. The latter is most definitely me as I bit my lip and hide in my earphones from the still windy post storm day.
Its less of a drop in confidence and much more a sense of urgency, combined with an overriding need to pace myself. My inner divergence is all a part of readjusting. As I attested to in my blog last week, I have to find a way to slow down and let my body lead and my mind follow. One might rightfully think that upon writing about it, I had found my solution. That miraculously, after my realisations, I could easily maintain this new balance and forge forward. But alas, the human condition is more more tricky to navigate.
The realisations come and then there is the time of integration, which inevitably looks messy and disparate. Learning a new way of being is akin to dealing with an addiction, in that the pull to go back to the familiar, comforting and self destructive way is so very compelling. Its panic making at times, this question of who I want to bring to the table after cancer, after pandemic. So much has changed and yet so much still appears to be the same. Inside myself I have a sense that what I was before is relevant, but in a fundamentally different way.
Specific to my situation questions arise around how I can bring my flavour of body work without crashing. The world wide shiatsu clinics I ran are unfeasible, as much for the sheer output of energy in getting to places, as to the focus and intensity of holding space for others. I can see a way through to doing a more local version perhaps in time, but on a massively reduced level. Teaching has always been a drive though the thought of sharing even my gently aligned yoga classes makes me recoil. My own body is still healing. My arms have been battered, down dog is a daily crusade into holding court with pain enough to rebuild tone and flexibility. There is nothing in me that would find joy in others witnessing my slow toils back. And yet I do have things to offer.
It may not be now, and that is ok. I hate that, everything in me pushes against it even as I write. Oh my lord how to embrace patience, does anyone have a fail safe method? If you do, please let me know! Any how, as I said at the start of this piece, I have a nudge and a nod. The Qi gong has been a lifeline and I am meandering down a path of learning more with this. At present that is in the form of online teaching with Al Huang, an octogenarian with more energy than a spring chicken. Honestly, he is fabulously buoyant and I look forward to sharing my version of his maverick genius. I also had an inkling about yoga nidra, which may well be a more sustainable route in my journey with yoga teaching, that being to talk people through yogic sleep and into profound relaxation. I know I need this and I suspect many of you out there do too in this changing landscape.
So here I sit with my nudges and nods, reigning in my urge to race ahead is I suppose a good thing. If you see a frustrated me jumping up and down on the spot, you could always join in!
I have an image of many of us trampolining, or pogoing our way into the present moment. It makes me laugh, and yet there is a profound message.
Test your ground and stamina before you move ahead maybe? Oh and be patient!