It Hit Me. It Stopped Me. I Had to Embrace It.
It hit me. It stopped me. I had to embrace it.
My body has many ways to communicate when I need to slow down or pause. And I’m following that guidance more and more, although it isn’t always easy or convenient.
I wrote about my tough week and then took several days to really feel into the unease of it all. My nervous system was so on edge that hearing a complaint—whether it came from Kevin or from my own thoughts (mostly to do with the internet issues) —felt like screeching fingernails on a chalkboard. I couldn’t stand it.
I escaped into a 500-page Morgana and King Arthur book. The break felt nourishing and refreshing. I slept more. I felt the emotions without lashing out. I gave myself gentleness and space to be with how I felt without needing to change it. I reflected. I meditated. I painted. I returned to the foundational EMF (electromagnetic field) balancing for a reset.
I found peace and calmness as I did our taxes. There was something about working with numbers that was so grounding and predictable. The rain poured and sun peeked out now and then, as it does here. Sipping tea, acoustic guitar background music and numbers—a nourishing day.
I did my best to support myself in this liminal state that provided the downtime needed to move through the process—allow, release, restore, integrate. Deep, old pockets of emotion and past trauma had an opportunity to release.
This is one of the gifts of winter. It’s the nature of the season to support a dive deep and let go of the old stories to clear space for the new visions that will arise.
I finally started to feel like myself again. Tending to my energy, my nervous system, and an authentic expression allowed for a natural transformation. Not forced or contrived, but organic and deep.
I’m now exploring a variety of pleasurable ways to take a few minutes several times a day to regulate my nervous system and release any pent-up energy. This feels far more effective than waiting until I’m thrown off course. And, of course, it brightens each day.
Coming home to ourself doesn’t happen all at once. It happens in small, quiet moments throughout the day.
I’m curious - what does coming home to yourself look like to you?
Big Love,
Suzanne
This is a post from my Substack site. If you’d like to read my weekly reflections, do check it out. You may subscribe for free to receive new posts directly to you inbox (each Sunday). Suzanne’s Substack - Staying Wild, Being Free.
