Returning to the Center

“It may be that when we no longer know what to do
we have come to our real work,
and that when we no longer know which way to go
we have come to our real journey.
The mind that is not baffled is not employed.
The impeded stream is the one that sings.“
Wendell Berry

There are ravines at points along the path that narrow our passage and ask us to be deliberate about each step. It may require a lightening of our load or perhaps a pause where we gaze into the steep drop below, dizzy before returning to our center. In these pauses we remember that reclaiming our power means giving up tightly bound ideas about what power really means. Pushing ahead, past the sensations rising up to meet us, is not always the way. We can of course, if it means protection at any cost. But maybe here we place roots to sky, set the weight down and allow the field to empty. Nestling into the space between here and there, long held notions of identity & dreams of a direction no longer viable can dissolve like salt in water. A cleansing solution made from the dissolution of all ideas, patterns, and energies too heavy to carry beyond this point.

When the world has shifted on its axis, our own navigation system must recalibrate to what is happening now, not what we thought would happen, or what we want to be happening, but what stretches out before us and within us in present time. Disorientation can reorient us if we can regain a sense of our inner landscape again. Find our feet. Find our hands. Find our spine and sense what is there. Noticing what happens when we simply notice. Bones heavy, muscles soft. Settling into being and allowing the golden wave of our own energy to return back to us, warming what is ready to thaw in its own time. What would it feel like to sense your inner architecture in a new way? Vitality returning, clarity bubbling up from a hidden spring just on the other side of no-longer-so-certain certainty and habitual response that is changing shape right below the surface.

There are ravines at points along the path that narrow our passage and ask us to be deliberate about each step. It may require a lightening of our load or perhaps a pause where we gaze into the steep drop below, dizzy before returning to our center. In these pauses we remember that reclaiming our power means giving up tightly bound ideas about what power really means. Pushing ahead, past the sensations rising up to meet us, is not always the way. We can of course, if it means protection at any cost. But maybe here we place roots to sky, set the weight down and allow the field to empty. Nestling into the space between here and there, long held notions of identity & dreams of a direction no longer viable can dissolve like salt in water. A cleansing solution made from the dissolution of all ideas, patterns, and energies too heavy to carry beyond this point.


When the world has shifted on its axis, our own navigation system must recalibrate to what is happening now, not what we thought would happen, or what we want to be happening, but what stretches out before us and within us in present time. Disorientation can reorient us if we can regain a sense of our inner landscape again. Find our feet. Find our hands. Find our spine and sense what is there. Noticing what happens when we simply notice. Bones heavy, muscles soft. Settling into being and allowing the golden wave of our own energy to return back to us, warming what is ready to thaw in its own time. What would it feel like to sense your inner architecture in a new way? Vitality returning, clarity bubbling up from a hidden spring just on the other side of no-longer-so-certain certainty and habitual response that is changing shape right below the surface.

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