Opening to the Silence

Over the last month or so I've found my senses opening- first slowly, and then rather quickly. This began with some deliberate steps on my part. I'm always working on ways to develop myself. In a way, this time in Gainesville feels like it could be, and is, an opportunity to try things out before moving to a more permanent location and a number of other factors jump into place (David and I settle into more permanent businesses, we have children, we build or buy a house, etc.). Although being in Gainesville has been hard for me for reasons that I'm only beginning to understand, this time really is a tremendous opportunity to "train" in life- to try things out and grow on my own before some of those other more settled things come into my life (things that I want, but will also mean less time/energy for just me).

A month ago David and I began taking a Qi Kung class that meets once a week for an hour. We had taken the level 1 class over a year ago and gotten a lot out of it, so we decided to now take the level 3 class. In the level 1 David and I had begun to really feel the qi, or life energy, moving through our bodies. We had more energy, were less fatigued, etc. After the class ended however, I had stopped my daily practice. So, now I began with this new level 3 class and am finding that, whereas the first class helped me feel the flow of energy through my body, this class is increasing the energy- "building" it really- at an incredibly increased rate. I end my 20 minute practice feeling ready to go boxing or something. I don't need as much sleep. It's pretty remarkable. My ability to experience things is increasing remarkably, as I have the energy to do things.

At about the same time, we began going to the local Quaker meeting. As I mentioned in my earlier post, that opening has felt very special to me. I hesitate to write about it too much because using words really takes away the essence of what it is. But I will say that it is another place in which I'm finding a nurturing of the part of myself that has been hidden for some time. It is a place that encourages and appreciates the connection to something beyond the day-to-day practicalities of life, and nurtures the spirit in us. The sacred in silence is appreciated and the possibilities inherent in being in that silence are opened to.

David and I also began going on walks now and then. Not just walking for exercise though- my intention in these walks was to notice. To appreciate the trees. To hear the birds. To allow myself to open beyond the confines of my own barriers.

You know what? It sounds beautiful to do all this- it sounds mystical. And, it is. It really is. But, at the same time it touches a deep ache. To open on a deep level exposes me to more. I feel more sensitive to the rough edges. When someone yells suddenly, I'm scared more easily. When someone shoots someone for no reason during the movie, my body is shocked. Even being in a room where people don't respect one another feels hard. In some ways, I'm starting to want to cover myself in a blanket and hide a bit. I'm like a baby taking it's first steps- but I haven't quite figured out how to make the falling graceful.

It reminds me of a natural stage in therapy that I often see in my clients. Often after making huge strides in learning how to engage the relationships around them, or making excellent progress in their language development, they will regress slightly and shut me out. I always know that this is natural and makes sense- they need time to integrate all this learning into themselves and make room to continue growing. After a few weeks, or even a month, if I can help the parents understand what is happening and keep them coming to therapy, the client will return to therapy having made a huge leap forward and are ready to continue in therapy. They just needed time to sit with the new learning, make sense of it, and come out the other side.

I'm on the cusp of that next leap forward- it's still feeling a bit safer under the blanket, but I'm starting to want to peek out some.