There is something moving through me that I don’t yet understand. I’m unfamiliar with it yet also quite drawn toward what it quietly promises. I just have no idea what that is. For the past several weeks, I’ve been trying to identify it. Am I depressed? Am I anxious? Am I sad about the state of the world (and certain aspects of my life)? Am I stuck, blocked, over-thinking things again? Every time I inquire, I assume that answering these questions, even if some of the answers are yes, will set me free. Yet, upon inquiry, none of the identifications seem accurate. They all feel mildly true while not-at-all true at the same time.

I know now not to change these bouts, not to fight them, not to deny them and not to rush them. They pass in their own timing, sometimes with new knowledge and an eager excitement to see them go; sometimes they leave quietly through the back door without saying good bye. This time, I have a hunch that we’re going to be acquainted for a while. This isn’t just morose, it’s intelligence trying to move through me. While it would be nice, it’s not the kind of intelligence that delivers the answer swiftly and moves on. It makes me work for it. It’s another chance to know myself a little more, and open myself a little deeper to the pleas of being a human in our world.

I hear an invitation to listen. To hear something that wants to be said that my usual doings distracts me from, and my usual awareness hasn’t yet been ready to hear. Surprisingly, the need for slowness isn’t present, nor is the need for silence. This is a listening that is faster and louder than I’m used to, a rumbling that I’ve mostly attempted to hide from instead of face head on. Now seems to be the time for the latter. Also surprisingly, I don’t feel much fear this go around. I’m armed with a confidence and excitement that mixed in with my usual resistance has me ready for battle in a way I never thought I would be, or want to be.

Battle for what exactly I’m not sure. If my hunch is right, what is calling to be listened to is a deeper reunion with my own knowing that is vaster than my current cognition and deeper than my current relationship with who I think I am. It’s a time of deep realization and even deeper trust in the ground that holds these realizations. The days of seeking safety above expression are waning, as are the days of knowing and staying silent with these knowings. The days of sharing truth are upon me, scared as I may be about what this means for my safe life with my safe relationships. I am fairly certain it won’t look like I think it “should,” and I’ll need to grow quite to meet my own fears, areas of mental rigidity, and tendencies towards perfection in lieu of letting it all spill out the way it needs to. I’d like to think I can still tie things up in pretty little bows, if I promise to untie just as many, if not more than I make.