Blossoming

I already feel like I've been on a roller coaster and it's only 9:30! I woke up this morning really tense, my whole body aching from head to toe. I'd had a long night of not sleeping well, presumably because my back hurt but substantially because I've had underlying money worries all week. I dragged myself out of bed a little before 6, set myself up on the couch with an ice pack, and started to do my morning pages. I grumbled for a little while but finally just started asking myself questions. What is it going to take for me not to let stress show up in my body? What do I need to learn in order to kick my money issues once and for all? What is the source of this fear that I can feel rumbling around in my tummy?

The bottom line? As Marianne Williamson says, "Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure." The more I recognize that I need to take risks, the push myself out of my shell, to claim my power, the louder the voice of fear becomes in my head. But as Anais Nin said, "And the day came when the risk it took to remain tight inside the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom." I know that this change is necessary and I know that now is the time and I know that I am ready to live my life like Ellis suggests: "How would it be if everything that you thought you knew / Was turned upside down opposite from your point of view / How would you feel if the ground was really the sky and all of this / time you've been walkin' when you coulda been flying." Yeah baby, yeah!

So I got out a pad of paper and wrote down each of my fears on its own page. Then I went back and added the old patterns that surface, enabling those fears to gain footing in my consciousness. I took my 11 slips of paper, a pile of pillows, and a whiffle bat and I bashed each fear or pattern. Hallelujah! The paper was really too light for this process and so it would float up in the air, which immediately made me laugh. So I kept bashing and laughing and bashing and laughing until I felt completely filled with love and light and laughter. The weight of those fears and patterns had lifted. I danced around my living room for a little while, high on the feeling of lightness, then scooped up the slips of paper and held a burning bowl ritual. I took the slips one by one, stated my intention for what I am now accepting in my life, and watched the words burn away, going back into the nothingness from whence they came. When I was done, I took out my sage and smudged myself and my apartment, acknowledging that today is a new day, and that I am starting fresh.

I find ritual soothing, a way of getting a message out of my head and into my body. While it might not be necessary in order to affect change, for me it feels like one of the better tools in my toolbox, a tried and true method of getting things to move in a direction that feels good. Like anything else, it's a process, and I may need to do another ritual next week, next month, or even tomorrow, but for right now, I feel free to fly. Namaste.