Staying Put

“I am rooted but I flow.” ~ Virginia Woolf

Getting close to two years ago I had a revelation. In order to do the work that I wanted to do, I needed to learn to 'stay put'. I needed to choose a home place, and stick with it. At the time that realization had to do with ceasing my wandering, at least in the geographical sense. But as I have moved through this phase of physical stillness I have been learning that this art of being in place has even more to do with the ability to heed inner stillness. Learning to listen and pay attention to the details of life, and not get pulled off course by every butterfly and squirrel that crosses my path. And many do.

I have built and rebuilt communities in my life in different places, most of them have been steeped in quality, people I love and who love me in return. My soul sisters and brothers - most know who they are and will recognize themselves in reading this. And by staying put, I have learned that those people are still with me, even though they may or may not reside in the same place.

Each time I left, I had the sense that I was just on the verge of something, some great opening, or landing. But then I left anyway; I got itchy feet, wandering eyes, and an urge to move and find greener pastures, something 'better', something 'more', and at times just something different. What I have failed to do time and time again is to ground, pause, grit my teeth and steel myself against the discomfort of the squirming escape artist within. What I know now, without having the luxury of the whole and complete picture - that truly I will only get when my body dies and my essence merges with the green soul of the world - is that in staying put all the things I need will arrive. In their due time. Part of this is about learning to be patient and having faith. Another part is to allow myself to sink more fully into me, to take up the full space that is mine to inhabit. In this way becoming a more hospitable planet, complete with my own atmosphere, soil, sun and moon and stars, I will either nurture or draw in all the things and people that are needed. Just by being myself.

I get that this sounds idealistic, but that too is a big part of who I am and I am not apologizing for it.

Of late the lessons that have emerged for me have been about going against the grain, listening to my ability to discern the best route, and honouring and protecting myself. Not being a martyr on the altar of others' messes, lack of diligence or inability to attend to their own fires first. This has made me supremely unpopular in some circles, I have no doubt. But it has also given me no small measure of self-respect and a necessary sense of self direction. I am placing myself, one small step at a time, on the path of my own best interest. I am not looking for it anywhere else but here and I am resisting the urge to extend outwards, investing my energies instead in calm and focus. "If you build it, they will come", so to speak, even though sometimes I hear crickets.

I have also been unfolding, and have attracted a number of amazing things into my sphere, deep friendship, opportunity, the comforts of home, offerings of love and kindness. In this realm there are also pitfalls, in that by unfolding and showing up more fully, I can be more seen more clearly by others. Part of the benefit of my wandering lifestyle is that it prevented me from blossoming in full view, it allowed me to remain hidden and out of reach of grasping hands. Movement was a safety net, because I have never been very good at saying no, something that often brought up feelings of guilt and unworthiness, although I have been practiced at pushing away. I have acted more like an escape pod in a zero gravity world and less like someone who knew what I wanted and what was good for me. More recently I have been less of the former and more of the latter, which is an improvement.

While staying put I have noticed that things come and go, and I am faced with even more temptation and challenge. It has been so very alluring to run, and run hard, away from the sorrows that were born here, in the early months of my staying. The unseen ghost of these early times flitting between shadows, sensed lurking at certain street corners. Disappeared, but still there in the air I breathe and the tilt of my heart.

Some days I find myself imagining something big and worthwhile, something that has been worth waiting for, is coming down the pipe, but I also imagine that it is the small details that matter most. The dip of ancient cedar boughs, cool sea air, the gifts of friends and the moments of silence and space I give myself. It all adds up, and perhaps one day I will find that it has substance; a shape and a name.