COMING UNDONE

Social media has a funny way of creating the illusion that things are more or less than what they really are. We have the capacity to create a production of our lives showcasing all the things we think the world watching us wants to see, dancing with the illusionary prospects of a digital existence.

I’m naturally a glass-half-full kind of human – that is my truth. I try to see the best in people, and understand their hurts, I avoid conversation and energies that don’t feel aligned with my vibration, I have strong boundaries and minimal empathy for bull shit. I enjoy simplicity and slowness and am constantly seeking the teachings in life’s offerings. But I’m also a realist and never share content that is clouded with the intention to deceive you.  

So when I can’t share openly and honestly, I don’t share. When the words don’t flow out of me like fresh water rushing from a tap, I don’t write. When my heart feels heavy and I can’t document my truth in its entirety, I speak them to those who I trust can hear them instead.

The truth is, I’ve not been OK. 6 months ago something profound happened in my life and it has changed me. Behind the retreats, offerings, celebrations, busking, travel, book awards, and the glass-half-full displays of joy you see, I’m experiencing anxiety for the first time in my life. At times I’m distant and unable to be fully present for Mackenzie. I’ve struggled to cope with her needs on my own. I’m addicted to my phone, constantly waiting for some form of connection from a world that seems out of my reach. There have been days when I feel exhausted and unmotivated and my commitment to my work, my purpose, has waned.

On many occasions I’ve felt like my insides are vibrating. An uncontrollable inner turmoil shakes my cells violently until I sit in meditation long enough for my breath to settle the disturbance. Sometimes I need to sleep to make it go away. I’ve slowed down. Like, really slowed down. The illusion that I’m “doing so much and always so busy” is a digital deception. My days mostly consist of exercise, meditation and rest. I’ve not completed my online studies. I’m not connecting with my people. I’m not reading. I’m not hustling. I’m not practicing asana (yoga).

I feel less joyful. 

It feels like something is missing inside me. My meditation teacher / spiritual guide said to me, “It’s like when you pull a big plant out of the soil it leaves a big hole. But then the soil integrates back into that space, and the rain falls into it so something new can grow”. It felt good to think about it that way. That this inner void will be replaced with something beautiful provided I tend to it with love and care. I’m excited for the possibility that this emptiness will unfurl like a flower in the spring.

The silence has been an imperative tool to healing. Meditation has saved me from crumbling in some terribly dark moments. It’s given me a safe and sacred space to be here in my body and not escalate the drama in my head. Nothing is wrong if I just stay with this breath. This moment. In my body. I’ve had access to the most incredible support to help me, guide me, support me, unlock hidden treasures beneath the trauma, and gain clarity at a higher level, beyond the human experience tied up in emotion. They’ve kept me grounded. They’ve helped me see a Truth I couldn’t see on my own. They’ve helped make sense of the unthinkable. They’ve helped empower me to speak my truth, to not waiver from my boundaries and know unapologetically where my values and responsibilities lie. And with that comes incredible compassion; a softness and acceptance for that moment that triggered me to come undone.

But maybe we need to come undone, sometimes. Maybe our cells need to be shaken until we fall asleep. Maybe we need to unplug that plant that has been deeply rooted in the same spot in the garden so we can plant something new. That hole is merely a space, like a blank canvas waiting for an artist to express a wonderful creation. With space comes new opportunity. New intentions. New desires. Maybe the slowness is preparing me for new energies. Maybe the void is getting ready to overflow with newness. Maybe the unraveling is actually a coming together.