The Changes That Happen, The Changes We Make (Guest Post by Julia Aziz, Author of Lessons from Labor)

Spring has arrived fully here in central Texas, with wildflowers sprinkling the meadows, trees bursting with green, and birds singing across the skies. Of course this spring feels different from years past, as the death that came through winter presents itself starkly alongside the rebirth. The once proud agave cacti are heavy and drooping; browned palm trees struggle to stand while fallen branches rest defeated upon the ground. What's fresh and new is intertwined with what has perished. Nature seems to be mirroring the paradox of our strange re-opening world, where excitement over returning to former freedoms goes hand-in-hand with the grief and uncertainty that remains.

If you feel both hopeful and unmotivated, depleted and on the brink of change these days, it doesn't mean you're doing anything wrong. You're living through a complex time with complex emotions, and it's not easy to move forward in ambiguity. Part of the challenge, as I see it, is we haven't fully shifted out of modern culture's warrior mentality towards growth. A plethora of personal development and wellness memes tell us to focus on what we want and manifest our truest desires. It's empowering to realize how much we can affect change through awareness and intention. But as many of the cultures we destroyed and/or subjugated know, growth happens in cycles, with loss and gain inseparable. To support growth, we can observe what's actually happening and learn to work with rather than against the natural forces more powerful than we are. 

When we push too hard for what we want to happen, we may end up exhausted from the effort of trying. When we don't do anything because we lack the energy, we may get stuck in hiding rather than take a risk. Perhaps there is another way, a way that accepts and intends, progresses and slows down. With spacious mind and generous heart, something new and old emerges, integrating where we've come from, where we want to go, and where we actually are.

I'm guessing if you're reading this, there may be changes you desire for your life. It has been a long hard year, and being shut in and shut down has certainly clarified what's not working. Maybe some of the changes you're feeling called to are not quite happening, or perhaps you're getting waylaid and pulled in unforeseen directions. When confused between growth and acceptance, rather than asking, "What's wrong with me? Why isn't this working? or Why do I feel this way?" we can remember to respect that we are not in charge of the timeline here. A better question might be: "What is the very next step for now?"  The best thing I've done for myself lately was to take a day off to get lost in the woods. Wandering without trying to get anywhere, I feel most myself again, most free. It feels like true relief to trust the meandering path that shows itself rather than bushwhacking what might or might not be a shortcut. There is magic in following trails unknown, not trying to figure out the map. No matter where I am in life, it helps to tell the whole truth to myself. It helps to speak out loud to the trees, the river, the birds, or even the dry creek bed, "Show me the way and help me to trust it." I hope you're being gentle with yourself these days, especially when there are more questions than answers. Top of the list for What I Can Do (a much shorter list than What I Am Not In Control Of) is the practice of being tender with the parts of us that are frustrated and confused. A few steps forward, however many back, I imagine that viewed from high above, together we walk the labyrinth of healing, getting closer in, moving farther out, yet somehow heading towards center. Wishing you some vitality, inspiration, and peace each day, to receive deeply and share wildly, Julia If you know one or two people who would enjoy receiving these articles, please forward them this link to subscribe.

For more posts by and about Julie Aziz, as well as excerpts from her book, click HERE.