I drove across town the other morning sobbing after dropping off my daughter at school and seeing her talk with her friends about their fun-filled spring break plans. The sobs are accompanied by an assortment of personal issues I am currently wading through — from my fears of being left out, never making plans, going through a divorce, my own inadequacy as a parent and a person. But, as the sobs subside and the emotions pass, I am curious on what within me was so triggered. I curiously ask “What is underneath all this?” And I hear a voice, my inner child, tell me about how she just longs to be seen and acknowledged. How she wants to engage with the world yet she is terrified of these thoughts actualizing.
This month, I am engaging with creating a presence on social media – my own digital version of emerging out into the world. I want to do this so that I can offer my skills but I can’t help but feel the same mix of emotions: longing and terror.
I got back to my house, ready for a morning walk and grateful for the opportunity to get centered. I rounded this corner that offers a great view down to the beach and I saw a big tug boat off in the distance, some ten feet or so from the shore. Immediately, I am intrigued and questions start reeling around in my head. I notice that there are other tugboats around this one, emergency vehicles both on land and in the water all focused on this tugboat that looks beached.
Knowing that the universe is always speaking to us and that the beach has given me many valuable teachings before today, I curiously ask “Why am I witnessing this? Is there a teaching in this for me?”
And I hear: “Even when you feel stranded and distressed with what you are tugging around, there is always help available for you.”
Aaahhh, thank you, Universe. My intentions are set – I intend to love myself through this and also be focused moving forward, removing myself from old patterns of drama and apprehension. I don’t want the old story taking me out before I can begin.