Sunday, April 12, 2020

P A U S E








"If we were not so single-minded about keeping our lives moving, and for once could do nothing, perhaps a huge silence might interrupt the sadness of never understanding ourselves."

- Pablo Neruda


Our hearts need to be open during this time of crisis.

I find myself shuttering my heart from time to time, and then re-opening it.  It's easy to physically and emotionally hunker down.  Each time I open my heart, I am reminded of how a more vulnerable heart fills me with vitality, aliveness and connectedness.  It is an exquisite reminder of how we can exasperate an already stressful situation when we close our hearts.

With this being said, and with an open heart, I'd like to share with you some insights that I have been having during this time.

 

P A U S E

When I use Visceral Manipulation I sometimes use what is called "motility" to address a lesional pattern in your body.  For example, I might use this approach to free up your liver.

Motility is the inherent and energetic movement of each organ in your body.  It follows an embryological imprint from when you first developed in utero.  It applies to not only organs, but from what I understand and feel, all tissues in your body.

With a healthy liver, this movement gently moves from the median axis of your body upward and outward, called "inspir,"  As it moves back down and towards the mid line of your body it is called "expir."

Let's say there is a restriction in the liver.  This rhythmic cycle might become frozen, interrupted, or thrown off course.

When I tap into it's inherent motion, or motility, I will gently coax it back on course by taking it even deeper into it's lesional pattern.  Think of a kid on a swing.  You might push the swing just a bit more forward, so it will come back towards you with even more velocity.

Slowly but surely, the motility of the organ, or liver, begins to correct itself.

Sometimes after softly coaxing the motility deeper into its dysfunctional pattern, to get a swing back, there is a . . . pause.

The motility comes to a stop.

I have always been fascinated by this phenomena.

Sometimes this pause will last for a few seconds.  Other times I feel as if I need to look at my watch.

Yet, there I wait.  Patiently.

From my perspective there doesn't seem to be a great deal going on.  It's not tangible.  Perhaps someday, when I am more sensitive and attuned, I will feel more.

During this pause, I have a hunch there is a lot going on, that is more intangible.

From my perspective, there is a pause.  Silence.  Stillness.

Within this silence, there is a song of deep intelligence and wisdom being sung.

A song of silence.

Within this stillness there is a great deal being re-negotiated and integrated.

A churning stillness.

Then, slowly but surely, there is movement again.  Then, wooooosh, the liver finds a healthier rhythm once again.

It feels as if we are all in that  P A U S E .

Even though it feels as if our world has become encapsulated in amber, under the surface, there is still a great deal going on.

This space is mind boggling.  We are holding STILLNESS and movement, SILENCE and sound all at the same time.

The world of more tangible, moving, felt and concrete things has shifted to the more intangible.

This deeper, intangible and quiet world has opened way up, while the more superficial, tangible and frenetic world has practically come to a stand still.

This new space is different for all of us.  We meet it in different ways.  There is no right way to navigate through this uncharted territory, other than to muddle through it one day at a time.

   

 Silence. 

"There is a voice that doesn't use words.  Listen."
- Rumi

In this seemingly quiet world we might begin to re-discover, re-awaken, and re-connect with forgotten friendships, old connections, neglected hurts, ancient anxieties, archaic anger, lingering love from those who have passed, and rythmic waves of grief.

That is if we listen.  Deeply and attentively.  In this seemingly silent place, a deep and ancient wisdom can now be heard.  Meet all that may arrive with gentle compassion and tenderness.

You might remember a dear friend who passed away decades ago, and grieve a bit more fully.

You might reach out to an old friend, who is still very much in your heart, even though time and space has seemingly separated you.

With the waves of anxiety that comes through us during this time, you might also revisit similar and vague places from years gone by.

Old unattended to hurts might reveal themselves and gently rumble through your body, finally finding release.

A kind benevolence might gently caress your body.

Lost memories of love might touch your heart.

A deeper sense of compassion might settle under your skin.

That is if we listen.


Stillness.


"You must go in quest of yourself, and you will find yourself again only in the simple and forgotten things."
- Carl Jung

One phenomenon that we rarely see, sense or embody is stillness.  We certainly can now.

Take note of how much less frenetic movement there is now.

When going for a walk, instead of being distracted by a car, your eyes can linger on a cherry blossom tree.

Instead of hearing the roar of a passing jet, you can more fully hear the flapping wings of a crow.

Instead of running around for this or that errand, your soul can be touched by the leaves of a tree rustling in the wind.

Painting, gardening, writing, meditating, cooking, etc. might all be gently beckoning you.  These deeply nourishing tasks, often neglected or unheard, beckon us now with their transcendent and quiet allure.

See if you can embody this stillness that now surrounds you.

Just remember, this time will pass.  In the meanwhile, take a look around you and relish this quiet stillness.

Conclusion.


I want to emphasize that this still and quiet world is not happening for all of us.  It would be absurd to assume it is.  For those of you on the front lines, your world is anything but.  Yet, I hope you find these spaces and places when you can.  For those of you with kids and work to attend to, I also hope you find the time to feel these more vulnerable and tender truths.

Regardless, I hope you are muddling through this crisis/opportunity being mindfully aware of your safety and others, keeping and open heart, and finding beauty in this great and mighty P A U S E .