I started this blog with the hope of writing two (ok, one!) entry a month during my sabbatical year. A little bit of writing and a little bit of resting seemed like a good balance. I did not want my inspirational juice to go dry or my readers to forget about me (less than one entry a month would have done that). Yet I also wanted to rest, which is what a sabbatical should be about (after all, the word implies an abstinence from work).
However, around February, my rhythm stopped. My world was a bit turned upside down by the possibility of “change,” and I went into “waiting” mode. That is why I have not been posting since. I am back now to fix that, in the midst of changing, which is happening all the time whether we want it or not.
To summarize what kept me away from my blog for around three months: I won’t bore you with details, let me just say that we considered the possibilities of new jobs and a cross-country move from north to south. Yes, the promise of sunny, warmer weather, warm fresh tortillas all year round, and close proximity to family and friends made it very tantalizing. Decisions needed to be made, and that was the hard part.
But what did I really want? Was a great opportunity knocking at my door and I was being too lazy to get up and open it? Or was the shimmering object further down the road just a mirage? I could not decide if “the grass is greener on the other side” was at the root of our temptation to pack and move, or if fear of change was the grounding reason to stay put. Of course, there were all the other more insignificant minor details of money and job security and what not. But at the root of my paralyzing indecision were not the details of the overall package, but the feeling of being out of control and making a mistake.
We all know the things we need to change to be healthier, to have a better day-to-day existence. We all could do with little changes in our lives. But why is it so hard to change our ways of being? Why do we resist it so much, even when we know the benefits it could bring?
Spring is the time of the year when everything in nature is changing. It is a time for regeneration and new beginnings. From my Qigong training I have learned that to be healthy I have to go with the flow and, most important, not go against the natural flow of what’s going on in nature. How was I to renew my spirit if I was feeling immobilized by the possibilities of change during the spring?
I think of myself as someone flexible, easy going, someone who likes to explore ideas, and who can change her mind easily if presented with good arguments. But what I think of myself, and what my nature truly is, are not necessarily in line with each other. My brother-in-law told me (well, told us: a room full of “accomplished” family members–whatever “accomplished” may mean) that we were all type A controlling freaks: competitive, highly organized, ambitious, impatient . . . you get the idea. And maybe there is some truth to that. Being out of control, in a chaotic environment, not knowing what is going to happen next, is not something I feel comfortable with.
Life is chaotic, unpredictable, and again and again, it shows us that we are NOT in control. Control is just a myth; control is something we like to construct to ease the anxiety of not knowing. I have learned that the hard way. Yet, it is an ongoing lesson, to be learned again and again in my daily practice.
Changes are always happening, and if we go with the flow, we can experience changes as good, positive things. At least we can always, and I mean always, find a silver lining even in the hardest of situations.
While being confronted with my own energies and feelings of uncertainty I asked myself: what does it really mean to go with the flow and to be flexible like the seasonal Qi of Spring?
According to Traditional Chinese Medicine, spring is the season of the liver. Liver energy rises during the season, and if it does not flow easily, it can get stuck and create all sorts of health problems: from season allergies to menstrual issues for women, from headaches to emotional upheavals. It will also show in the digestive system, as the liver supports the stomach, but only if its energy moves smoothly.
At an emotional level, I know that I need to do something about my stress and anger in a proactive healthy way. For me, kicking and punching in my martial arts classes helps a lot–helps letting that energy move out of my body. Taking breaks from computers and electronics saves my liver energy and relieves a bunch of symptoms. Not trying to control my children (or my husband for that matter) and walking away when I need to, is another way to flow more freely. And practicing Qigong daily is a must; it is like plugging into an electrical outlet in the wall when I am running short of energy.
When I do all of that, accepting that everything is in constant flux, things become easier. And this also means that it becomes more manageable to not hold on to a preconceived idea of how things should be, how my children need to act, or even how things used to be. The Tao teaches us that there is not simply a “good way” and a “bad way,” just different ways…
Everybody needs to find what it is that gets energy flowing for them. And changing accordingly will only come easier once that energy starts flowing.
In the end, we decided to stay put in the north, not because we did not want to change, I am happy to report, but because we decided to listen to our hearts. It just came down to where we felt at home…at least for the time being.