I have been moving through a transition these past few weeks, and perhaps I am not alone. So much seems to be in flux these days in the world, and I hear uncertainty and fear voiced by many in daily conversations with friends and clients.
My own transition has been a very positive one: I have relocated my Somatic Psychotherapy and Essential Voice™ practice. I am now overjoyed to be settling into an ideal location: a beautiful studio, three minutes from downtown Boulder, nestled in the magical Rocky Mountains, I couldn’t ask for a more.
Even with all this goodness, moving all my “stuff” and reorganizing all those bits and pieces of my every day life has proved to be quite stressful indeed. I’ve described it to others as “52 card pickup”: everything gets thrown into the air, and where it lands is anybody’s guess.
That “things are in mid air” feeling – that chaotic uncertainty – may be a feeling many are experiencing in this contentious and crazy political season. The media has gone haywire, and it is difficult to know where any true ethics, or core values in this country lie.
I am finding that it simply doesn’t work to look outside myself for core values. There is no “there” there. No doubt, there are a lot of wise words to read, and teachings to absorb. But nobody “out there” is echoing back to me my own intrinsic truth, my own deeper knowing. (Has that always been true? Probably so!)
This is not to say that I need to “remove myself” from the world to find my core sensibilities. On the contrary, I am feeling called to widen my gaze, and expand my listening.
In the midst of moving, I came across a simple quartz crystal. I held it in my hand, and examined it closely. A universe of magic is inside that gem. It holds a world of its own, that is stunning and miraculous in its beauty. Feeling this magic in my hand, I allowed my breath to relax. I released the noise, and returned to the deeper place within. A quiet overcame me, a knowing: everything is as it should be.
As all the pieces of my life find their way “home”, I remember this crystal. I remember the sky, and the rainbows. I remember the curious doe I saw the other morning, and the Western Tanager.
I pause, I look, and I listen.