Where to go to Escape Your Rut of Fear and Uncertainty
I know I haven’t been writing much here, but it’s not for not trying. I keep starting posts and then scrapping them. I can’t seem to fully germinate an idea to share with you before it seems already irrelevant and tired.
Something’s off, and doing what I’ve been doing’s not fixing it.
But I’ve noticed too that while I’ve been trying to wrest water from this unmoving stone, something else has been going on at the periphery, and almost just out of sight. Like a sudden flash of light that grabs my interest before extinguishing. If I can focus I just catch a glimpse of something, something different, something even exciting if maybe also awkward in its newness.
I don’t know if this has been happening for you too of late, but I’m beginning to think these flashes of light contain the seeds of the new that’s emerging. The new we need but don’t yet know much about. The new that perhaps asks each one of us to allow our focus to drift, even linger, on these bright bursting edges, and maybe even follow what we discover there.
I don’t know. But I am curious.
And in the spirit of adventure - which the Via Dae Nova embodies - I decided to follow the spark that appears as I try to write a post for you, and write from there. Here goes …
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1 As women, it’s hard not to feel threatened these days. Nerves are raw, opinions flair, safety and certainty are not easily within reach.
2 As things crater and fall, a scene playing itself over and over again, I also witness a widespread search going on for things rooted and unassailable (what’s solid and reliable and will remain so though we rest our fears against it.)
3 For some this anchoring occurs as they focus on each next step, or requirement of the day. For others it’s remembering there’s goodness, joy and ease to be had – still – in the midst of the crackling chaos. And for still others it’s giving way to the grief, overwhelm or fear, the internal climate of the moment, with the hope that it can be ridden through to some other, if yet unknown, side.
4 Some of us are going forward quietly, others in rage and heightened volumes. We’re all coping the best we can, the way we can.
5 Because something just doesn’t feel right. Like a stone in the shoe or a nested splinter, we are reminded by our unease that all really is not well.
6 But what to do? How to rise to this moment clearly and well?
7 How to leap over the compromises we’ve made that now weight us when we would rise? How to shake free from the confusion in which we’ve marinated to say with certainty, “left here, now go right”?
8 This moment upon us will not be owned by clinging to what has been – and despite how solid it feels – may be no more, and even no more just yesterday.
9 This moment will not be reconciled with a thinking that frames the Now through the Then, and the What to the What-Was.
10 What is called for - and forth - in this moment is a willingness to fly, to let go into the uncertain air, to trust the buffeting winds, their strength, and the invisible forces that would guide us.
11 We are asked to let go when to hold tight appears the safest course.
12 We are asked to not know, when knowledge – from every direction – is what we seek.
13 We are asked to surrender when a laying down of arms appears suicide.
14 We are asked to hear when we would rather exhaust the remaining air.
15 We are asked to be vulnerable when all we feel is vulnerable and wary.
16 We are asked to know what we know, and have always known, as the compass for what must be known.
17 We are asked to be that truth in this moment, to reveal our lights in their many aspects, fingerprints of light calling into being the contours of a new land.
18 We are asked to Shine then, our light, so all the world can see.
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