Do you ever question your continued pursuit of doing more?

My day with Alan Watts and the dogs.

 

Me:

“For the last month, I’ve been feeling flat.

A lot.

It almost feels like depression.”

Alan:

“Or perhaps it’s the moment you stop pretending you’re meant to be ‘on’ all the time.”

That stopped me.

Because I know this feeling.

I’ve felt it before, right before an awakening. Again.

Last year, I fell asleep in my business.

Not in a bad way. Not in the way you’re thinking.

Just caught up in producing, doing, building, chasing.

The praised, seen stuff. The productive stuff. The busy stuff.

And now I’m not there anymore.

I’m in the being.

The deep.

The in-between.

The transition.

The metamorphosis.

Yesterday, I spent the whole day quietly with the fur babies.

I meditated.

I drank tea.

I wrote.

I studied.

I did nothing that could be publicly measured, seen or monetised.

And this is what came up and out.

No guilt.

No shame.

More of a quiet sense of rebellion, of freedom, of not feeling sucked into the system.

At first, this slower way feels really uncomfortable.

It can even feel wrong.

Quieter, stiller.

We are conditioned from toddlerhood to believe that faster is better, that more is safer, and that achievement equals worth.

Fed beautifully by economic gain and social approval.

No wonder so many of us chase what doesn’t actually matter, even when life keeps placing signs in our path saying.

Stop. Slow down. Life is a gift. Shit happens. Treasure it. Be with your puppy.

Alan:

“You are under no obligation to be the same person you were five minutes ago.”

Thanks, Alan.

And I remember.

This flatness isn’t failure. It’s another uplevel. Another shedding of skin. Another waking up.

A caterpillar can’t become a butterfly through force.

So I let go, bravely, of needing this phase to hurry. Of watching the clock, checking in if I am being productive??

I choose what’s now over what’s coming.

That brings grief.

The grief of not chasing.

The grief of releasing the familiar.

The grief of letting old identities fall away.

Alan:

“Problems that remain persistently insoluble should always be suspected as questions asked in the wrong way.”

So instead of asking what’s next,

I ask, Can I nurture myself and stay here? Can I be still?

I begin to tend to myself.

Make some toast, stretch, and read.

To monitor my inner world.

To resist the old habit of working when what’s really needed is rest, listening, and integration.

And slowly, something shifts.

The flatness becomes space.

Space for peace.

For healing.

For inventing.

For renewing.

I realise how much energy we give to things we were simply programmed to care about.

Alan:

“Man suffers only because he takes seriously what the gods made for fun.”

Come on, Alan, women too...

And then it clicks.

The exit doors are always open.

The keys are in my pocket.

I don’t have to grip so tightly.

I don’t have to make this season mean anything more than what it is.

Lately, this quieter way of being feels light.

It feels different.

I like it, it feels rebellious.

Do you ever question your continued pursuit of doing more, rather than being quiet and digging deep into who you were before the others told you who to be?

I work with lovely people all around the world; it’s so beautiful to be part of another person's transformation.

I am here for you too xx

You can reach me - www.lifecoachnelson.co.nz

or caronproctor@me.com