Suspended In Transformation
As I breathe into and notice the morning sunshine melting the dew, and the wind gently fanning the leaves of the tree outside my window, this message, posted on my Daily Dose page, April 9, 2012, keeps popping into my mind.
“People cry not because their weak, but because they have been strong too long”. One of my habitual behaviors is burying my emotions behind a smile, and when I finally release emotions that have been bound tightly inside, they get released in a torrent, like a pressure cooker that explodes. The irony of the statement is that it doesn’t take strength to hide and bury emotions; strength and courage are found in the honest expression of emotions.
Interestingly, another part of my brain is playing a video of my past weekend, Labor Day weekend, which was a whirlwind of family, food, house guests, and – busyness. I’m noticing who I was being, what I was doing, and the result of “being” and “doing” at any given moment. The thing that encourages me to stop and notice my thoughts is peace; I’m not hearing my “gremlins” or “crazy bitch voices”; The, “you should have done…”, or “oh man…why did you…”, or even, “it would have been better if…”, voices are silent.
In this moment my voices of judgment and criticism are absent, however, they were talking loudly this weekend, in fact, because of my mindfulness practice, these mean girl voices have become a road sign to recognizing when I have succumbed to thinking in an habitual way, in lieu of expressing my feelings honestly. This weekend, in the moments (often, but not always) that I realized the mean girls were talking, I listened to them with curiosity, and I asked my “self” three questions, what’s happening now, what do I want, and what will honor my values? These three questions always lead me to a place of choice; the choice in how I want to think, and about how I want to act/react to something.
This weekend, I didn’t go KA-BOOM; there was no waterfall of anger or loud burst of words, in fact, I am noticing that my practice of being curious about my mean girls acted like a release valve. It allowed me to continually release emotional pressure and move through passive aggressive (which at times I was) to wholehearted conversation.
Two blue birds just flew past my window; one blue flash chasing the other and careening out of sight into the woods. The bluebird is the symbol of transformation, signifying the tipping point between transforming and transformed; it’s like the pause between the in-breath and the out-breath. I sense that the replay of my past weekend is the “pause”; it’s the moment of suspension when I can see and grasp the connection between the “practice” of mindfulness, presence and honoring self, and the “being” of them; the stepping from the learning into the knowing
In the Pueblo Indian tradition the bluebird is the mascot of the winter solstice, heralding the moment that moves us from winter to summer and darkness to sunshine. I’m in that moment, suspended in the space of transformation. Thank you for sharing it with me!