Ebb and flow is something Lian and Jonathan at Primal Happiness talk about a lot and I find it so helpful.
I used to strive to be more consistent, to not fall into low states of consciousness, to keep level as much as possible, and BOY was I disappointed in myself when I couldn't keep that up for more than a short stretch at a time.
I tried it all (not very consistently mind you...!): acknowledgements, grateful fors, affirmations, morning pages; dabbled in CBT, meditation, attempts to be more mindful.
Last week I felt full of energy, did more and more, got less and less sleep, but felt good (or so I thought) and energised by my energy.
And then Wednesday evening came, and I flipped at a tantrum one of my kids was throwing at bed time. I saw red, I blew my top, I swore (not a regular occurrence, especially when the kids are in ear shot), and all this, seemingly out of nowhere.
And then I blew my top some more, downstairs once my husband was home. And I realised how tight and closed and tense I'd become, despite, seemingly, enjoying all my busy-ness that week, and, I had thought, without any adrenaline being involved.
So I noticed my tightness, thought the blow out was it, but then found myself in a puddle of tears on Friday night, telling my husband I wasn't sure I wanted him to be the birth companion at our baby's birth because I felt so disconnected from him.
We can go into the whys and wherefores all this came about, but what was super interesting to me was how on Saturday morning everything all looked different.
I have my hunches why I got myself in a twist during the week - my busy-ness was taking me further and further from myself (though my ego obviously thought it felt fine). I know that when I'm disconnected from self, from source, I suffer.
But the biggie here is that we ebb and we flow, we're up and we're down, life is super-duper transient: from a puddle of tears at the kitchen table on Friday night and a total sense of disconnection, to singing in the car with the windows down on Saturday morning, feeling peaceful and grateful.
Quite frankly: we can try our hardest to hold on, to keep steady, to be consistent in mood, but we're wasting an awful lot of energy:
Life has a rhythm and an intelligence of it's own. We can tap into that rhythm, be aware of it, but we cannot dictate the overall tune.
The best thing we can do is stay alert, play as beautifully as we can when we remember, accept our bum notes when we don't, and keep admiring and wondering at the composer - who's genius is so great, we're never going to hear or understand it all.
Love to you all, Kate x
I used to strive to be more consistent, to not fall into low states of consciousness, to keep level as much as possible, and BOY was I disappointed in myself when I couldn't keep that up for more than a short stretch at a time.
I tried it all (not very consistently mind you...!): acknowledgements, grateful fors, affirmations, morning pages; dabbled in CBT, meditation, attempts to be more mindful.
Last week I felt full of energy, did more and more, got less and less sleep, but felt good (or so I thought) and energised by my energy.
And then Wednesday evening came, and I flipped at a tantrum one of my kids was throwing at bed time. I saw red, I blew my top, I swore (not a regular occurrence, especially when the kids are in ear shot), and all this, seemingly out of nowhere.
And then I blew my top some more, downstairs once my husband was home. And I realised how tight and closed and tense I'd become, despite, seemingly, enjoying all my busy-ness that week, and, I had thought, without any adrenaline being involved.
So I noticed my tightness, thought the blow out was it, but then found myself in a puddle of tears on Friday night, telling my husband I wasn't sure I wanted him to be the birth companion at our baby's birth because I felt so disconnected from him.
We can go into the whys and wherefores all this came about, but what was super interesting to me was how on Saturday morning everything all looked different.
I have my hunches why I got myself in a twist during the week - my busy-ness was taking me further and further from myself (though my ego obviously thought it felt fine). I know that when I'm disconnected from self, from source, I suffer.
But the biggie here is that we ebb and we flow, we're up and we're down, life is super-duper transient: from a puddle of tears at the kitchen table on Friday night and a total sense of disconnection, to singing in the car with the windows down on Saturday morning, feeling peaceful and grateful.
Quite frankly: we can try our hardest to hold on, to keep steady, to be consistent in mood, but we're wasting an awful lot of energy:
Life has a rhythm and an intelligence of it's own. We can tap into that rhythm, be aware of it, but we cannot dictate the overall tune.
The best thing we can do is stay alert, play as beautifully as we can when we remember, accept our bum notes when we don't, and keep admiring and wondering at the composer - who's genius is so great, we're never going to hear or understand it all.
Love to you all, Kate x
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