The day after I wrote my last eNews article, I drove back to Columbus completing a 10 day, 1650 mile trip. I was supporting my daughter as she moved -again – for the 18th time in the last 7 years! This time was different though. Having finished school, she’s at a pivotal point in her life – moving to Ottawa to establish her first home on her own, and start her first ‘big girl’ job. All kinds of possibilities open on the horizon!


The view out Rachael’s living room window …
– what’s possible from this point?
!

The day after I returned home, with grocery shopping complete and laundry underway, those of us on our At Home with Maralyn & Friends call had a rich conversation. We explored the unorthodox, yet for me freeing, perspective I’d shared in the last eNews of holding each moment of life as being perfect. Though often not what we think we want, and for sure not always comfortable, we looked at some of our recent experiences through the lens of possibility of each moment being perfect in “having all essential elements” or “exactly fitting the need in a certain situation or for a certain purpose”.

In the moments that followed the call, this perspective served me well.

I recognized how exhausted I was – my energy crashed, my body ached, my emotional reactions were way more sensitive than usual. Definitely not a comfortable space for one accustomed to being on-the-go. But pretty quickly I realized I was at the point where I needed to stop. I cancelled everything in my calendar for the rest of the week, slowed my pace way down, and began to reflect on what was happening in and for me. Even though the experience was uncomfortable, my commitment to not making what was happening wrong made it easier to be curious.

Understanding my obvious physical exhaustion was easy. But there was another ‘essential element’ embedded in that exhaustion. It pointed me to the relief of pressure I was feeling in finally having Rachael settled in her own home base. I’d been aware that one of the things I’d found most painful in the leaving of my first marriage nearly 7 years ago was the fact that I could no longer provide that for her. There was such joy for me in seeing her re-discover things that had been in storage for all those years, and her pure delight in finally having all her craft supplies in one place!

Only now, with Rachael settled in a home base of her own, did I recognize that part of what I was feeling was the let down following the relief of the tension I’d been holding in my body on her behalf all those years. Letting go of this has opened a space of energy and possibility that hadn’t before been available to me.

And to support me in nurturing myself in this space, this week I had the opportunity to participate in viewing a series of on-line interviews hosted by Kristin Sweeting Morelli in The Red Tent Revival.

Among my favourites was Sara Gottfried who highlighted our need to pay attention to the cortisol addiction so many of us who have experienced high levels of stress, or even low level continued chronic stress are suceptible to. She spoke compellingly of the costs – in terms of the subtle wearing down of our ‘best selves’, as well as the degenerative diseases – that can result when we don’t, and offered a number of tips to aid in shifting this pattern.


At the Point – art created using fossilized coral and flint
by Christine Aiken

And in the series of interviews with Alison Armstrong, I was reminded again of the different roles of the masculine and feminine within each of us. In recognizing the way that over this period of traveling and moving, my focus has been skewed toward the masculine producing the results, protecting and providing, I’ve become more aware of my need and desire to shift that balance within me more toward the feminine qualities of connection, enhancing life through a more flowing way of being in the world, and the unique creativity and transformation that can result from this.

I wanted to anchor all these ahas, so one of the things I did this week as a way of reminding myself both of my intentions, and the vision of possibility I hold for my relationship with Bruce, and my life as a whole, was move into our bedroom a piece of art I’ve had for a number of years. It’s created out of fossilized coral and flint by Christine Aiken and is called At the Point. In the little book attached to it, Christine has written the following words:

At the Point: we can see so far. This is a special place for us, and we come as often as possible. So much of our pleasure is in the journey, but when we get to our destination out time together is shared with talk, listening and closeness.

And so I’m here – at this point in my life – I SO love the journey, the opportunity to continue to learn, and grow through pausing and reflecting, and the precious people in my family, and extended community of support. The exhaustion I was feeling was ‘perfect’ in that it drew my attention to my need to pause. This need is a recurring one in my life – I wrote about it a couple years ago – and I can’t imagine I’m the only one for whom this is so!

If you’re feeling a sense of resonance with this, and are looking for a safe space within which to explore, then you’re in the right place and I’d love to hear from you!

Nurturing juicy co-creative partnerships
…with ourselves, others & life!