this morning the moon shone at it’s fullest point in this cycle, doing what full moons do…. arousing emotions, illuminating all that has been in the dark lately and reminding us that there is a design and a rhythm beyond our ability to control or, really, to even comprehend.
this particular full moon shines her light onto a moment of my life that is feeling a bit like a shaken snow globe. after months of quiet promptings, growing frustrations and unmistakable downloads from the divine, i am taking steps forward in my life (the specifics of which will be revealed in a future letter) in ways that are pulling me out my known reality and onto a trust walk guided by the same forces that conduct the moon through her phases.
in a season where all of us are already in a collective experience of massive uncertainty, it’s been even harder to make choices that would, by design, intentionally intensify the instability and uncertainty in my life. my nervous system has been ranging from small whispers of…
“uh… what’s going on here, vanessa? you know things are basically fine as they are, right?”
all the way to outright screams of –
“danger! danger! change direction and return to the known comfortable reality as quickly as possible to avoid further possible pain!”
thankfully, i’ve done enough work with myself and other people’s nervous systems over the years to know that while fear is the wise response of the body when we our life may actually be in danger – it’s not the most qualified inner consultant to turn to for life expansion. the part of ourselves that’s in the business of survival cannot be concerned with personal growth, achieving dreams or living an extraordinary life.
“ordinary is just fine, so long as we don’t die,” says our reptilian brains.
the more stressed out we are, the louder this survivor voice feels like she must scream.
when my life isn’t being obviously threatened in the next 60 seconds, the better choices to put in a leadership position for my life include my creative mind, trusting heart and intuitive soul. from these vantage points i keep running into synchronicities, flow and whispers of “yes! or “not here” or “not yet.”
these parts don’t have any more certainty about the future than any other part of me, but often there is clarity about what is needed in the present and for the next step forward.
these parts, like loving and wise parents, have a sense of what’s best for me right now, in support of all that my soul desires to experience and express. these parts also know that giving into the demands of tantrums thrown by a stressed out younger part of me, won’t lead me to what i really desire either.
i can hold the place of loving and compassionate witness to this freaked out part of me – hear her, soothe her, love her and give her what this aspect of myself really needs – assurance that i am safe and loved – a promise that, no matter what happens, i won’t leave her. then she can rest, tucked in with a blankie on her metaphoric car seat, drifting back into sweet rest.
the more resourceful parts can then take the wheel, or more appropriately, sit in the driver’s seat of the self-driving vehicle that is my life, and cruise down this new road and into the universe’s wild unknown.
there will most certainly be many bumps in the road, and at these points the fearful part will likely wake up screaming and crying with terror. once again i will hear her, create a safe environment for her, and soothe her back to sleep. over time, she’ll get more and more trained to sleep through the turbulence, trusting that she’s not the one who needs to navigate.
today, with the support of the moon, may we each take the time to witness which parts of us are behind the wheel of our lives. may we nourish, soothe and rest our bodies, so that our survivor parts can stay sweetly in dreamland – the rest of us can do what it takes to follow our dreams and sit back and see what unfolds.