A beautiful mindfulness class this eve holding me in the most gentle way to my felt senses. When push comes to shove – or it is mid eclipse season for example – discomfort is de rigeur. Change is the constant beast we wrangle. We are traversing the cavernous gap between where we once belonged and where we will carve out a space next. And it is hard, sometimes heartbreakingly tough to take. Hard to find our feet on shifting sands. Even harder to know what stays and what goes as everything whirls about us.
What guides us? Not the opinions of others, no matter how well intentioned or ill informed. Not our monkey mind, only wanting to point the finger or wind us up. Not even our hard won intelligence or abject stupidity. Oh no no no, none of that.
It is our body that never lies. Our senses constantly feed us information, our true north and our way forward. Beyond our lurching stomach or hammering heart, practices that connect us to this inbuilt magic are divine. They gift us the inside running. They reflect us back to ourselves, without any bits missing or mangled in translation. They are a life saving compass.
Or in the inimitable words of The Captain @sgrstk,
“Self-reflection is a form of self-respect. Without it you become stagnant and worthless, devoid of progression. Like a puddle that never flows, a tree that never grows or a vibrator with one speed: fucking slow.”
Quite right, Sir. Use liberally for best results.
© Kerrie Basha, 2018