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Wonderment & Wilderness

This week as I sit here reflecting on something profound to say, to give value to others who may read this, I feel distracted.

Distracted by the daughter who intensely considers her future.

Distracted from the family events planned and to be planned.

Distracted by the rooster crowing, birds singing, crickets chirping and the hum of cars on their way to their destination.

Slowly, I am winding down from a few days in the clinic and consideration of recent conversations about stillness and allowing myself to be in the moment. My senses hijack my thoughts and plant me in the present moment. Stillness.

Neighbours are having BBQ's in their yards with families and my own family due to come together for our evening meal to debrief about our days and I’m awash with contentment to just be. Be here right now without taking on the grandiose task to ‘get it all done’.

How often do we ‘allow’ ourselves to just be?

We are so often rushing from one thing to the next. Filling every moment with what we should be doing rather than what we want to be doing. There are many things that warrant my attention right now. There always will be. Right now there is washing to be put away, meals to be cooked and study to be done. The sun is still out and I’ve been yearning to be wrapped in the warm embrace of the spring air. So I choose to be.

I choose to sit in the warm spring night as the sun slowly recedes over the horizon of paddocks and trees. Choose to be sung to by the birds that fill my garden flitting from one lavender to the next, and wonder why the rooster is intently crowing. I choose to reflect on my current mood of contentment and share my thoughts as to hope I can inspire others to slow it down.

Writing for me is cathartic. I have a daily journal that I reflect on ambitions, challenges and how I’ve overcome obstacles. Sometimes I write about what’s grating me and rather than vent to others, try and determine WHY it is, search a little deeper. Take the metaphorical light of love and enter the darkness.

When we give ourselves these times it allows a process of information taken in and creates room to search for these answers. I search within with loving kindness that I bestow on others I love in hope of shining a light on the darkness that lives within. Mostly, the darkness we hold is fears, unresolved pain or resentment. Exploring this on paper, honestly, with myself I often find something I wasn’t aware was there. This allows me to hold space for it, to heal it.

This week I was talking to a beautiful friend of mine, a social worker with incredible insight and skill to peel back my layers so gently that it doesn’t even feel like she is peering into my soul. She has taught me over the past few months to do the same with myself. Peel the layers, one by one with inquisitive enquiry and a shit tonne of love.

Often this ‘busy syndrome’ is our coping mechanism, our ego, to keep the light work away, to avoid the inner work that needs to be done. We all have it, regardless of whom we are and how we represent to the world. It’s what we do about it, once discovered, that creates the change.

Where in your life can you find stillness?

How can you reflect?

What are your pain points? Why do you think this is?

Delve deep; explore the landscape of your inner world. When we understand where our pain, uncertainty, loves, losses, guilt, shame and blame live, we can better navigate back to our flow state, compassion and mindfulness mountains for a better view.

The landscape is undulating, never smooth. Acceptance and reflection facilitate a smoother journey. Its painfully beautiful to walk into the wilderness.

Amanda x

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