The way I’m understanding embodiment lately is the space I need to pass through to get from what is to what will be. I know I have to wait for my body to understand what is happening in my life. I have so many ideas that seem to float around me and not take root. I know there is nothing I can do to force them. I have to wait it out. Rachel reminded me this morning that patience is not one of my virtues, and I know this is true. I can appear patient, I can do the right things but I do not feel patient.
When I’m in the process of embodiment, my intuition feels disconnected from me somehow. It feels like some wise soul is operating on my behalf. I feel thankful to this part of me, but not in control of it. A few years ago, when I was getting divorced and moving into my own place for the first time in 17 years, I felt this. I was calling a realtor, putting a deposit down, and unpacking boxes. But when I looked around my new home, I thought how did I make this all happen?
Perhaps it is the nature of change. As a sensitive person, I need time to catch up with it. I’m experiencing many changes in my routines now, and I have this feeling again. Like intuition is busy working and I’m unsure what the end goal is.
Last year, my grandfather in spirit, said to me that focusing on exercise would improve every aspect of my life. I heard him say this, I felt it, and I believed it. Logically, it makes sense, I need to release the anxious energy in my body.
But, for over six months, I did not act on the message. Some part of me wasn’t ready. Then, at the start of this calendar year I decided to start practicing yoga. I pulled out the old mat that I used exclusively to take photos of tarot cards on and just began. Two months into the year and it’s become an everyday practice. I also began riding a stationary bike in the morning before I take Jubilee for his walk.
I used to beat myself up for starting and dropping habits. Becoming obsessed with something and then leaving it for the next big idea. I no longer do this and instead try to embrace compassion and curiosity for the part of me that wants to move on to the next thing. What I’ve noticed since I stopped worrying about starting and stopping things is that I can move in the direction of my creative flow. I can allow my energy to move through me and inspire me. I can be guided by joy, and move in the direction of what feels good.
I like the way my legs feel after biking. I crave the feeling of sitting on a yoga mat with my eyes closed. I love walking Jubilee through the center of town, watching the faces of people we pass light up when he tries to make friends with them.
Last week, I walked by my middle school teacher, and he reached down and patted Jubilee’s head like they were old friends. I got detention once for skipping his class. He didn’t recognize me, and I felt none of the shame I used to carry for being a bad student.
I wonder if there was a day I let that go. Did I toss it into the fire during a full moon ritual? Maybe it drops slowly like bits of sand running through an hourglass. Each time I choose to let go a little more the freer I become.
I sometimes try to go looking for that shame to see if it’s there hiding. Bring to mind some dark memories from my teenage years and see if I can feel a squeeze in my gut. Anything else there left to confront? But I know that’s not how shame works, it will creep up when you least expect it. Maybe when I drop one of the routines I have now or when some scenario from my childhood is recreated in my life. The lessons come knocking, and it won’t be as painful as it has been because I’ll get to face them as the person I am now. Much more equipped at excavation, so many tools to bring out.
I like walking through the center of town. The people I pass by often feel like old versions of me. I walked by a new mother yesterday, pink-cheeked and exhausted, pushing a large pram. Her eyes widened, and she smiled as she saw Jubilee pulling on his leash and hopping up to greet her.
She surprised me by yelling, “Hello, sweetheart!” just a little too loudly, and I got the feeling she had surprised herself. Maybe she hadn’t spoken to anyone yet that day, and the tone and octave felt unfamiliar. I remember those days, going hours without speaking to another adult.
We both giggled as we passed each other. So much understanding and affection passing between two strangers in a matter of seconds. Me with my puppy and her with her infant.
I wanted to say, “my kids are driving now, and sometimes I don’t see them for a few days in a row; imagine that! I felt so much affection for my past self, who was a new mother.
I pass a teenage boy who avoids eye contact with me at the same time every day, but he reaches down to pet Jubilee on the head and smiles. Yesterday, I said, “Have a good day,” and he surprised me by saying, “You as well,” in a voice much deeper than I expected. Today, we passed him again, and he had much more cologne than usual, and I had to hold my breath because I am allergic.
I have compassion for my past selves who wanted to try so many new things in the hope that one would work. If I could only get my hair to be straighter if I could just wake up earlier, if I could find the right habits. Where was that one thing that would change my life and bring some relief from the feelings that come from being alive? I wish I knew then that’s not how it works. Rachel and I hear of a celebrity dying who is 74, and we say god, that’s not that old. When I was a kid, I thought I’d never be 70.
The days are long, and the years are short. To be walking, to have sore muscles, and to feel the clench of shame at a childhood memory are all signs that we are alive. We are living well, creating energy, and connecting with one another. The one routine we must stay with is living, being awake and noticing. We need to be witness to our own lives.
May you consider your life with the divine awareness you brought with you into this world.
May you hold yourself with compassion when things are difficult to look at.
May you allow your body and mind to align with how your soul wants to move.
With love,
Sheryl
P.S. Sign-ups are now open for my Spring Mediumship Mentorship. This small group meets online over the course of twelve weeks to develop mediumship in a loving and supportive container. You can see all the details and sign up here. If you think this might be for you, I’d love for you to reply to this email so I can answer any questions you have.