I stepped out onto my balcony this evening as the setting sun caught my attention and called me out. It was a rather unsettled day for me, in fact I've been feeling this way for some weeks now, slightly disoriented and sideways with no particular reason, at least visible to me.
You know that uneasy feeling that vibrates between your tummy and chest, making it hard to breathe? Some kind of fear triggered by recent events in my life I reckoned, but the surprising thing is all is well, in fact life is pretty sweet right now, with fruits and gifts at last ripening after much labor it feels like.
So, why this unease in my body?
Sometimes I need to remind myself I am not just a mere, singular body, separate from everything else in this universe.
In fact, quite the opposite: we're spinning and evolving as systems within systems, organisms within organisms, bodies within bodies in a very complex web of relationships. Thus, this unease could be very well a symptom of what's taking place in the larger picture...
Indeed, I can't tell you what, can't put it in words, but I do feel some profound cosmic shift is taking place within and all around...
(note to Self: and all the wavering, up-and-downs like one moment bliss-one moment grief, one moment profound joy and gratitude, one moment rage and feeling lost, disorientation, sometimes feeling the ground is moving underneath our feet, heaviness might be more than just about our personal stories)
When I stood at my balcony to check out the sunset, I suddenly noticed this tiny spider web with a tiny spider in the center, holding on for dear life, as the wind was blowing quite hard. I just looked at it, looked at it and started taking photos. And then suddenly I understood what I was being shown: here was this fragile creature in her even more fragile web, being threatened to be blown away by nature's force, and all she did was to hold on to her center. The wind was so strong at times, that I gasped as I watched the spider and her web stretch far out and bounce viciously in this wild turbulence. She did not move, not even when the wind slowed down; she remained stable in the center, patiently bearing this force that shook her violently.
I watched the spider long enough to etch this phenomenon into my mind and heart - once again my Soul was demonstrating something very wise to me - that life can be unpredictable, forceful and scary sometimes and one just needs to sit still in the center of one's life when there's nothing else to be done.
The center of one's life.
Once a wise man told me about lebensmittelpunkt (in German): "it is a place where other people come to you, look, love, ignore, are thrilled, would like to be, or hate to be.. they move, but you stay, quiet and proud, knowing you are the magnet!"
then he added, "it does not mean necessarily a physical place, it means that you are standing with full attention on the ground with both legs, expressing: I am the centre of my life, that’s where I start."
Quiet and proud, the spider swooned in the center of her web, and I respectfully witnessed her.
Do I have the perseverance, the stamina, the faith to be so still in the eye of the storm?
How much can I trust and surrender to the possible end of my life and identity as I know it in the face of such drastic not-knowing?
It is quite turbulent out there, as the old is falling apart and the new is still in emergence and elusive in nature, and yet I can be so still in the center that I can be gracefully 'moved' and carried by the web, by the center of my life.
I see the subtle but persistent nauseating feeling that has been there like a splinter in my finger, constantly making itself known, as a gift. It is not comfortable but I secretly cherish these opportunities to practice Presence:
to be a compassionate Mother and a firm Father to my lost pieces finding their way home to awareness.
The practice is to stay and breathe with,
to meet with vigilance and vulnerability,
what is presenting itself to me.
If I don't receive it, who will?
As the sun disappeared behind the mountains in a red haze, I bowed to the spider for her sublime teaching and wished her well on this gusty night...