Shedding skins

I love this season where everything springs to life. My hardy plants on the verandah (which were seemingly ignoring my coaching during winter) have suddenly sprouted new fresh growth, dismissing my fears that they were to be added to my list of RIP plant victims. They were simply hibernating, restoring energy for a new season of growth ahead.

In our fast paced lives, we can forget that we too are cyclical in nature – designed to shed the old, to rest and restore – so we can bloom anew with new seasons of growth. We are far from static creatures. We grow and change eternally as children but it's funny how as adults in the working world we learn to be the same – to be dependable – to  be constantly up and on and positive and productive.

But here's the thing, in denying our inner rhythms, our yearnings, the changes that call us, we can become shells of ourselves – barely awake to the different seasons of our lives that long to be lived. We can become asleep to the beauty of our lives unfolding because we're too busy making ends meet.

As young adults there can be a sense of invincibility that buoys you along from one adventure to the next, living in the moment, following your heart, without a second 'I better not because what if...'  thought. And things have a way of working themselves out when you're that adaptable and free.

As we get older it's common to become resistant to change –  we find comfort in the known – the every day pleasures like sitting on the same seat on the train, ordering the same coffee from the same cafe each morning and loving one's slippers and the couch at the end of the day. Nothing wrong with this at all (I love my slippers!) but as creatures of comfort/habit are we less inclined to take the less travelled road? Why does our need for security become the dominating driver rather than following our instincts and doing feels right? 

My theory is if we're not careful our capacity for being agile can diminish with age. With overrun nervous systems, information overload and fear-fuelling bad news, it's not surprising that our trust in following our hearts becomes overshadowed by the mind's sensible ways. Layer on mortgage and family responsibilities, the opportunities, space and energy to attune to and truly answer one's calling can be limited. So where does that leave us?

Stuck and half baked.

Stuck between a good dependable life of comfort and the promise of new possibilities on the horizon. Staying with the known, while it feels safe, can mean you don't embark on new paths.  It means you're not willing to take the leap and embrace the new as the risk of losing the comfort of the known is too great. It means you dream of the leap but go nowhere and this stunts your growth. It is like being a plant that is pot bound – it doesn't have space to evolve and sprout it's new growth for the world to see (it can survive but it doesn't thrive).

If we are each born with unique soul seeds of potential, surely it's important that we water them. Surely it's important we give them the right conditions to thrive. And though it may seem scary to step into the unknown, surely trusting the life that has brought you this far is warranted. And surely it's better than feeling smothered staying in an (albeit trusty) old pot that you've outgrown and wondering if this is it.

I'm excited (and a bit scared) to be taking the leap into a new pot (or potentially garden) by undertaking Body Poetry Yoga Teacher Training next month.

I wish you all the courage and trust to take the leap to new possibilities that are calling you. Don't die wondering.