My first week in Switzerland has been magical. After a couple of days, it snowed and it snowed heavily. I spent many hours watching flakes of brittle ice float down in great quantities, settle and form smooth, white hills. White upon white upon white, there were times I could not make out the lines between the layers of land. It looked as if I were staying in the only, lonely house in a mass of nothingness. I think that’s why I like the snow, because it mutes everything and this calms the mind. Colours fade and a monochrome palette dominates the landscape, everything sounds further away yet the odd thump from clumps of snow falling from branches sounds so thick and loud. On this occasion, the snowfall was accompanied by a strong wind. Clouds of white leaping from trees and rooves, like ghosts escaping from liminal space. The weather sighs in different directions until the storm subsides and in the morning sunlight all that’s left are dunes of snow, patches of white in a forest of green trees. She moves around like she can’t decide where she wants to stay, but after a while everything always settles.
I have been looking out at the wind and seeing myself. Here I am, living my dream but I can’t seem to sit still. I feel an agitation, a restlessness move within me and I feel a certain frustration from others looking on, true or not. Why can’t she just sit still? Why is she always running away somewhere? I think it is simply my own annoyance being reflected back to me. I want to stay in France, but things did not happen as I thought they would, and I am not sure if I am ready to face the consequences. I do not feel as I thought I would, I am not living where I thought I would live, I am not the person I thought I would be. The layers of emotion, swirling within me like this stormy breeze. First she moves this way, then she moves that way. The only difference is that the breeze does not doubt her agitation, her skin does not grow hot from the embarassment of realising that all others are watching and judging. No, she simply dances it all out – throwing snow here and there. Not caring if she causes you any inconvenience, her movement is her art. I think that now, I have accepted that too. This is simply my way.
If the breeze is a product of nature, then I too am no different. If my impulse is to run, to move between the nomadic life and a life of settling down before I am sure of where I want to be… then so be it. I accept myself as I am, and I accept my process. I am convinced, after years of talking with people from all over the world, that we must follow the process which is trying to find expression through us. More than through the words we write, or the pictures we draw, or even the work we do… but through the life we live. Part of the journey towards home is learning to accept ourselves, and I always find that the restlessness within me is simply a cry for acceptance. Indecision, doubt, fear, crippling fear… the kind that wakes you up early in the morning and prevents you from going back to sleep. The kind that gets stuck in your throat, that makes you shake. I remind myself that it’s all okay. I am good as I am, and even if others judge me, it does not affect my value.
So what, if I choose to move like a grand symphony, like a dancer leaping across stage or like the snow jumping from the trees. Some moments are for being still, and some moments are for moving without reason. Some times we know what we’re doing and at other times we are going off impulse. It’s all an expression of life, no more or no less, and it is only ever a problem if it is not accepted for what it is. And so I take a moment to calm the storm of thoughts in my mind, and I remember that my life is not to be lived up to anyone’s expectations. It is a glorious and mysterious thing all of its own, a personal contract between me and Life and party to no one else. It’s time to take a deep breath, to “jump over the shadow” as my friend tells me, and to show up for myself. This is my life, and soon it will be in a little book for you all to read. The lessons I discovered between movement and stillness, between determination and indecision. Somewhere in that all, I know that there is something worth sharing and worth giving.
Leave a Reply