Saturday, 7am. It’s cloudy and cold outside. I’ve been up for a couple of hours, my mind racing with a hundreds thoughts, ideas and projects. For the past 4 years since getting very ill, I’ve felt this disconnection between what my minds wants to do and what my body is capable of doing.
The reality is always hard to face and I’m always left with this slightly frustrating feeling, this realization that I may have amazing projects, but my body is not able to do them just yet. For being my own guinea pig for 4 years now, I now know that constantly engaging in thoughts and thinking with your mind takes a lot of energy out of your body. And that’s energy that doesn’t go to healing. It goes to constructing new things, new projects, new futures – but how can we do that if we’re not whole in the present moment? You can’t build a new house if there are holes in the walls. Foundations are everything.
So it’s saturday, 7am. I’m grabbing a piece of paper and a pen, and I’m writing all the amazing projects I have in mind, down to the very details of everything I’m imagining for my future. It takes me an hour, and the one page I initially tore down from my old notebook eventually becomes 6 pages.
Right after every big project, I write the things that I can do now (keeping these to a minimum), things that will keep me sane and entertained but not drain and steal too much of that vital energy I need to heal. I draw a circle around them, and take a deep breath. That’s what I need to focus on. The rest will have to wait.
I set the paper aside and close my eyes, tired from the mental exertion that this simple exercise took. I look outside and watch the wind dance with the trees, and try to take some calm and deep breaths.
Tim says to me from the bedroom: “I’m so proud of you”. I look at him, surprised, and say “why?”
He answers: “you have such a creative mind”. I smile, thinking that I possibly have found the most supportive partner I could ever have.
My creative mind is my biggest asset but it’s also my biggest enemy. I know that in order to fully heal, I’ll have to completely surrender and let the process happen, without overburdening my mind with a thousands ideas that it doesn’t have the strength to take on for now. I feel like I have to bridle myself in order to unleash all that creative flow that runs through my veins, in the future. And the more I try to fight it, the less I heal.
Surrendering. Completely surrendering. Letting my body do what it does best: heal me, and doing the only thing I know will help that: getting out of the way.
Just being. In the now.
Why is that so hard?