A firehose from the heart.
The feeling of mania — it is a sense of being high on life, a sensation of being special, in the “zone,” or privy to information (ideas, even wisdom) that is new, exciting, and expansive. Sometimes this information or series of ideas comes through like a firehose that can be difficult to follow, especially when the body wants to sleep in the wee hours of the morning.
For years I have believed that I was being responsive to these insights and messages by waking up, turning the light on and journaling for a while — until I felt I had captured the essence of what was coming through. This used to make me feel like I was being a good listener. In reality I had a “hungry ghost” kind of energy about it; I wanted more flow and less actual digesting and acting upon the insights. Now I want more authenticity in the process of engaging with what can be understood as spirit.
For years I could have been described as someone who speaks like a firehose — spewing as many words out as fast as possible to anyone who expressed a desire to listen. I would also personally agitate (and waste a lot of precious energy) about not being heard fully and I would equate that to not being cared about. These years were the ones when I was learning how to communicate and I was intense about learning.
Wah Wah right?
It is terribly lonely and painful to be in that anxious and insecure state of being. Others can see us in this state, often easier than we can.
We can all practice listening deeply and kindly setting boundaries with each other as needed. Now I am finally comfortable enough with my own thoughts and feelings that I can desire to hear other’s opinions at least as much (if not more) than my own.
In the new journey I am taking with my mother (who passed nearly 20 years ago) I am activating and inviting new energy into my body-mind. I feel quite a bit inept — which for me is a new feeling and I’m not hating it actually. Aside from occasional brain fog which makes me forget things momentarily, I haven’t really struggled with learning something new in a while — especially something as important to me as communicating with my ancestors.
The big challenge is to approach this new learning with different energy than I’ve approached learning most every other thing in my life — with grace and lightness rather than the energy of being driven by some sort of task master.
What happens when grace and lightness come into the process? I start to care a lot less about “capturing” all the insights that flood my senses and a lot more about noticing when I lose focus and am no longer present with the present moment. For someone who has meditated for many years, it is humbling to feel so inept at mindful breathing. Grace and lightness is that energy that is in the breath, everywhere all at once, and even though I keep losing focus and forgetting to be with the breath as it flows in and out, I know I can trust that whatever insights riding along my breath and meant for me, will return in due time.