Resistance...

Saturday
October 1, 2016
9:34am

Laly & Romain have gone to Orange Grove Markets, I slept in until just after 8am, maybe 8:30am. It felt good. Healing. I understand now that that time in the morning for sleep is really important for healing. It was the first time in a week that I had been able to sleep after 6am.

Resistance. I woke thinking about it, understanding it at a cellular level, like it finally - maybe another layer - went into the body, my body. That being sick with this flu, how much energy goes into resisting it, fearing it. That it's not the symptoms that are taking the energy but my resistance to the symptoms, my fighting against the symptoms, because I fear it means more than a flu. And how resistant I am, and in fear of so many everyday things. This wind, for example, for the past two days, rattling the windows. Fear. Why? Wind is wind: I fear it is more than it is. I fear it will create damage. I fear its strength and force when I need to walk out in it. Because I'm not allowing it to be. I'm stiff, fighting against it instead of going with the flow. Wind is not controllable. So why resist it? Wind is not good or bad. It's wind. Like sun. Sun is not good or bad. It's sun. When it's so hot and burning, we say it's bad. When it's gentle and low, we think it's good. But it's neither, it's sun. So much energy invested in the concept - the illusion - of good and bad. So much. 

And food: so much resistance to what is good and bad for us. So much of my energy going into what's right and wrong for me every moment of the day. So many 'shoulds' and 'what ifs' - "what if this dandelion tea with soy is not good for me?". Right. Wrong. Good. Bad. Right. Wrong. Good. Bad. Wrong. Right. Bad. Good. Wrong. Right. Bad. Good. Like money as success - it's only a concept, an illusion, an idea. Money as success I mean. It's an illusion. A belief. That isn't tangible. Money is money. It's not good or bad. It's not right or wrong. So much resistance into it being bad. Too much is bad...

...11:30am...I've been thinking more about good, bad, right, wrong. How invested we all are in it, categorising everything, even every feeling and emotion gets drawn into it. Sad? To be sad is bad. Depressed: Bad. Joy: Good. Happy: Good. And good is right. Bad is wrong. Even intuition. Being in alignment with our intuition: Good. Following intuition: Good. Not = bad. To be alive: good. Dead: Bad. And on and on it goes. How incredible. Indoctrinated into our entire being. This feeling? Good. That feeling? Bad...

[excerpt from my personal journey entry from today, unedited.]

 

forming new paths...

...still one of my favourite photographs, crumpled poppies. 

...still one of my favourite photographs, crumpled poppies. 

I know, I've done it again. Because I've been happily absorbed in organising and hosting my first workshop. And I've been writing quotes for photographic work. And thoroughly enjoying consulting. And taking time out for myself everyday. That's plenty, I've realised. Plenty. And each time that I sat down to write and share images from the trip here, I became stuck and disinterested. I had assumed that I would write a chronological order of events in Europe, but that's where I became blocked. Something rather significant is changing in me, or opening, I think, rather than changing - like there is space again for a part of me that has always been there. My love of finding new paths, stepping off well-beaten paths, and creating jungle paths that are full of wonder and surprise is emerging. Perhaps my method of journalling is changing - opening up -  in this way as well. I find myself not wanting to do things in order. Not wanting to conform. Because I look around and I see order, prettiness and neatness, and the more I see it the less I desire it for myself, the more I crave the haphazardness, the layering, the mystery and newness. Sometimes I get down on myself, that I haven't become 'that blogger' over the years that everyone follows, that I haven't formed into a mummy blog or design blog, food or lifestyle blog. That I haven't stuck to a formula of writing or sharing photos of everything I'm doing everyday. Sometimes I get down about it, but was that ever me anyway? Am I sad about the loss of self or loss of an illusion of self? Yes, the latter, it is loud and clear. 

So perhaps today I'll lose more readers because I'm not doing this cleverly and people want clever and predictable. Am I going to be okay with it? Probably not. But I'm aware it's part of the process, and I will need to learn to accept it. 

I'm honest, vulnerable and raw, I've always been that, and I always will be. I don't need to feel ashamed for it anymore. 

Oh, the freedom in that acceptance. The wonder in the unknown. Whatever will I write next...