“No one becomes permanently comfortable. Life is not solved. Like a large hibernating animal it turns on its belly and once again we have to crawl out from under it. If we can’t move, we die.”
Hugh Prather in Notes on Love and Courage
I had one of the most comfortable sleeps last night ( all night long, 7 hours at least, dreamless, restorative), that I have had in a long time. Lavender essential oil in my lovely new diffuser, clean sheets and clean night-gown; Aimee, the cutest 11-year-old puppy on the plant glued tight against my bum, nothing that I HAD to get up for the next morning. Man oh man. All this and heaven too, as my mother would have said!
Blissful, delightful, comfortable. Hmmmmm
I thought I could stay snuggled under that heavy white quilt for a thousand years. Never get up. Just slumber away blissfully dreaming, or not dreaming, dozing, or quietly listening to the silence. Feeling Aimee loving me.
And then, getting up felt imperative. Yikes, I can’t, I don’t even want to stay here forever. Forever is too long. Eight hours are terrific. Forever means I died and I have way too much to do yet. No time for dying now.
Throwing off the heavy quilt and putting my feet on the cold floor felt cruel punishment indeed, after having so purely enjoyed delicious uninterrupted sleep. However, I was very aware as I padded off to the bathroom, that not getting up could lead to a terrible inertia. And it is true: never moving means giving up, letting go, quitting, eventually death, both emotional and physical. Death can wrap her seductive arms around our body and soul and we will smother in the nothingness of the life we have stopped creating.
What feels familiar and comfortable calls us away from adventure, challenge, striking out to intentionally create change. Change, even wanted and planned for change, can feel equally exciting and frightening. I had a secretary once who said she never did anything new or different because life would always take care of changing something, sometime, somehow. I find that a very negative and cowardly way to manage ones life time. Problems to be solved, people to meet, gardens to create, relationships to nurture, food to be prepared, life to be lived. Hibernating is delicious for a little while. Then it is time to burst forth into action and take charge of the next lesson to be learned and adventure to embrace, or endure if you prefer.
Crawling painfully out of the belly of the hibernating animal that is trying to keep us safe but is not succeeding is difficult and tedious. But essential. Life gets to be too onerous sometimes. We wish it would stop focusing on us and notice someone else for a while. The reality is life’s misadventures will try to hook us again and again. It just keeps on happening. It is up to us to walk away, to change what is, to find help, to do something new and different.
For me it is true that oft times there is peace and harmony and just as quickly as I can swallow a gluten free brownie, something happens to divert my euphoria. That’s life; or the new normal as my friend in Michigan taught me when my partner of 23 years was diagnosed with stage four cancer. That quickly! Sitting in the late summer sun on our front porch a neighbour said I must take Clo to the emergency room……and when we came home several hours later she had been told she had 6 weeks to live unless they could find a formula for chemo-therapy within the next 3 days to begin doing its dastardly job.
She lived for 2 years and she took charge. She filled each day with something for which she could feel grateful. Not hiding under the fluffy white quilt. Working in her garden and learning about the birds that came to our new bird feeder in our back yard that she had designed and created.
Just in a second, climbing out from under the comfortable belly of the hibernating animal can bring horror……or it can bring joy. One never knows. But far better to climb out than not. Not means silence forever.
- I am grateful for a full rich life
- I am grateful for the 23 years I had with my life partner Clo
- I am grateful for the companionship of my dear puppy Aimee
- I am grateful for precious clients I saw today who let me witness in there life journey
- I am grateful for friends with whom I will be spending time tomorrow
Precious days, time to take a risk. Love always, Nancy