A fallow grounding practice
Last week I felt the faint glimmer of earlier sunlight. And, still we’re in the dark of winter, friends. February is the hardest, shortest little month for me. So the only way I know to meet it is with deep, raw honesty that comes when I pause long enough for it.
The dark isn’t something we get to muscle and hustle our way through. What do you actually do when it is dark out, like on a new moon night? You move more slowly, a little more intention and awareness as your eyes adjust and seek out for clarity. You might take a lot more pauses.
As I read the news and talk with folks around the world, I keep thinking about what grief practitioner Francis Weller calls the Long Dark (not the video game)--a collective season of collapse and transformation that pulls (and pushes) us inward so we can reconnect to our creativity and build what’s next.
[For more on the Long Dark, check out the End of the World podcast interview between Weller and adrienne maree brown and Autumn Brown.]
Nature teaches me that a pause is fertile. Fallow ground is sacred in its regenerative rest. It allows for recalibration and noticing. Pauses are data gathering awareness practices. To know where your true edge is so you don't fling yourself off the edge or hold back so much from your edge that you’re not engaged in growth.
So I’m practicing stepping out of self-imposed struggles. Noticing compassionately where my internal tune of “It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to” pity parties want the season to be different than it is. Where I go kicking and screaming, it’s not fair. This menopaused body, this climate crisis, the hatred and violence in the US, and around the world. It’s not fair. But it is what’s present. And I can wallow in rejecting it, wanting something different. Or I can pause to get clear on what is my next thing to do. To be, and then to take embodied action.
So, friends, lengthen your pause of breathing, take stock of what’s nourishing you. That’s regenerative. Active rest can offer you the kind of clarity that says, NO, I AM DONE with that. The kind of embodied choices that screams joyfully, you will not waste another ounce of your precious energy and life on THIS bullshitery.
Take it all back, as my teacher, Clarissa Pinkola Estés Réyes, howls repeatedly. Take it all back, every last ounce of your precious energy, creativity, power. Take it all! It’s yours, it’s always been yours. The systems just told us otherwise, but no more. We see the light even though it’s dark. Pause and feel that. Be.
Fallow Practice (mini pauses)
Set a timer for 5 minutes.
Do nothing. Just watch.
Or, as we did in last week’s Grove Alignment Hour, hold your gaze for 5+ breaths. Then notice. And repeat.
Then reflect.
What emotions came up?
What stories came in?
How did your body feel before, then after?
Most of us have been conditioned deeply towards doing, rather than being. What’s a piece want to take it back?
You’re amazing just as you are! Your breath nourishes and fills you because you’re alive. That’s it. It’s all.
xo