What Next?

A short conversation with myself in the context of shifting energies

[Image description: Backlit photo of legs and socked feet up against a thin section of wall between windows, with one sill adorned with colorful gel-painted suncatchers. Outside is green trees and blue sky with fluffy white clouds.]

I want a plan! I want to know where we are going and how we are going to get there.

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Oh, sweet misguided striver. You are there. Here. This is where you are. It is ok to be here.

Be here and explore. What is it like here, in this space and time? At these ages? At this stage of healing and growing? Of living where you live and how you live?

What becomes possible here when you are not trying to get somewhere else?

That is not a question a plan can answer.

A plan is an anchor. It can be stabilizing in a storm. Sometimes that is necessary. It often feels safer than finding out where the wind and waves will take you.

But sometimes you are ready to know. Even sense an unshakable longing to know. Accepting that it will not be a smooth journey, but that you will be more fully alive in each moment.

The anchor is a tool. It is useful for its purpose. But not every storm must be resisted.

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Ok, ok. . . . But what do I do?

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Look around you. See the people and the place. Look closer.

Notice what is here and let that lead you. Feel the pull of a child’s joy or the window’s view or the belongings seeking more order. Feel what is alive in your body and tend to yourself with compassion and care. Listen and tend to those around you, holding space for them to feel all of what is alive for them.

Plan, if you must. Make plans and hold them loosely. They are a tool, not your purpose.

Change is inevitable. Progress unfolds in its most natural expression when you tend without directing. Tend with patience. Tend with love. Tend with awe for what has always been there, waiting for the space to grow.

Let the awe in and trust a little more deeply. You know only a fraction of what is possible. And that is ok. You have time. There is no rush.

Be here (as best you can). It is enough.

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Sending love from my shifting landscape to yours! May curiosity’s light break gently through the fog of uncertainty each time it settles.