Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Time to listen

I think I'm getting a message from several directions. The same message; clearly the same, and clearly clear, if one can say such things.

And the message is... back off. Time for me to back off. Stop pushing so hard; back off, and recover. And listen, because I'm currently making too much noise, and drowning out the silence that I need to embrace.

Today, I went out into the world to get my glasses adjusted, take some rings into the jeweler for repair, and get some tea and lunch from one of our favorite tea-and-lunch places. Just walking from place to place on my walker took way too much effort and a disturbing amount of time. And the effort I spent, just walking from truck to destination and back to truck, nearly did me in.

I spent a few minutes in the garage looking for something... and my legs, on which I had clearly been standing too long, started vibrating, out of my control; and I started getting worried that I wasn't going to be able simply to make it back into the house. I did make it back into the house without having to call for help, I even (somehow) managed to replace/restack the bins I took down in my search for whatever-it-was. But it was way, way too close to "couldn't make it," and sometimes nearly teetering over the edge of "not going to make it," on every adventure today.

Am I "giving up?" No... I wouldn't put it that way. Some things yes, I've been clinging to them for way too long; but some things, no—some things make me healthier, make me feel better, even if they do suck me dry. Do I still want to improve my health? Of course! Do I still want to enjoy living? Hell yes!

But I need a quieter road. A calmer road. A less confrontational road, a less external road. I need to ... go inside. Cocooning, some life/creativity coaches call it.

I've written several posts before about lessons of kyudo, of having open hands, of offering freely and being completely open. A message I'm hearing from The Great Machine of the Universe is "Well then...You're still clutching. Really open your hands. Let go. Be open, and let 'it' in, whatever 'it' may be." But even louder, I hear... "Physician, heal thyself."

And if that's the only thing that's powerful enough to cut through the noise and make itself heard... time to listen, eh?

3 comments:

Gail said...

Hi
Very well put. I so understand the need to back offf some. I went to the movies on Monday and of course th theatre that was showing the movie we wanted to see was number 9, which was the last one down two very long corridors. Walker and all I barely made it. Phew.
Great post
thanks
Love Gail
peace......

Judy at Peace Be With You said...

"But I need a quieter road. A calmer road. A less confrontational road, a less external road. I need to ... go inside. Cocooning, some life/creativity coaches call it."

And that is Walden Pond.

Muffie said...

Perhaps that quiet voice, which seems to be beckoning you in the midst of clamor, is merely saying,"You don't have to give up. Just use a different approach." How about a scooter or wheelchair? I know it's difficult to accept, but you'd really be able to continue doing the things you enjoy. Think about it -- quietly.
Peace,
Muff