During the austere silence of a freshly snow-hushed forest, I realized something: Our resistance is often louder than the whispers of wisdom waiting to instruct, guide, and hold us.
As illness and winter conspired against me this week, my husband gently reminded me of something essential: I hadn't visited the trees, and it was apparent that I was losing ground. As I sat against the trunk of my dear friend, the Cedar, bundled for freezing conditions, I faced both my urge to escape discomfort and myself.
I realized today how difficult it is for me to be held, as well as how challenging it is to adjust to the wisdom of seasons changing. My love holds a lot of people and things, but rarely something that truly holds me. While grounding into rest and surrender, I encounter this deeply ingrained resistance, or perhaps a better word would be fear. In the quietest moments with myself, I realize how afraid I am to touch the mystery. I feel held, but only superficially, by myself, by life.Somewhere deep down I am braced in distrust. In the forest and through the great mother, I am shown how to be cradled.Despite thinking I knew how, I have only just begun.
My body wanted to drift into deep sleep, but I also criticized myself for reflecting the resignation of a winter forest. I felt guilty for participating in the cycle. Watching my division, how little room I have for connecting with nature's deliberate pause, is interesting. Nature does not judge its rhythms. No tree apologizes for going dormant. In winter, flowers don't feel obligated to bloom. What makes me demand such violence from myself?
Is it possible to learn to be held by something greater than our constant actions? Can we sit still, unburden ourselves, and fumble into the arms of infinite love?
An invitation is being extended. An invitation to sink into the marrow of this moment. To explore the edges we fear. To ask: What have I dismissed that is calling me?
Are you, are we, ready to listen?
In this video, I talk about:
The surprising spiritual guidance I received three years before understanding its meaning
Nature's lesson on rest, surrender, and self-compassion
An easy, practical method of tapping into your inner wisdom by "dropping down"
Learning from discomfort vs. running from it.
Seeing things as an invitation to reflect on areas of your life where you have heard calling, yet lacked the confidence to lean into them and ask why they are there.
The antidote is gentleness. Trust and peace are ours to learn inwardly. May we discover what holds us and how to be held. May we discover a deep, unconditional, abiding support cell by cell. Often, it is learned in the very place you least want to be.
