I had been thinking for some time that something was wrong with me.
I remember myself as someone who has travelled to far away countries on their own. Someone that would be the last leaving the party, finish work and go straight out to be with people. That would spend the weekends out – day and night – and be full of energy on Monday to go back to work. That would go away on weekend breaks with friends and be fuelled by it. I remember spending hours at the gym – attending classes, using the weight machines, going back day in day out. Training. Entering races.
I now mostly enjoy the quiet. I stay in a pub for a couple of hours before I’ve had enough. I can’t stand the loudness of gyms and its body cult mentality. I want to redraw and look inside, not outside. I want to go for long, slow walks in the countryside, not race down the hill. I aim to go to bed early and sleep. I do yoga, meditation. I take time to stop and seat with myself and just be.
For months I kept thinking that whatever had broken in me all those years ago would heal and I would go back to being who I was. I kept looking at that template of me and longing being able to reinstate it in my life.
It took me forever to understand that I am who I have always been, even if I am not as I was.
Life experiences and the shifts in internal seasons take us into different rhythms and as I enter Autumn in my life so thus my being starts to shift its energy towards a different focus. This is the time to gather from Summer’s bountiful harvest and learn new skills to take me through into Winter. Instead of mourning the end of summer I am learning to marvel in the colours of Autumn, to appreciate the crisp, cold mornings and to enjoy slowing down.
I think that Summer lasts for so long that we forget that once we were Spring. And when change happens upon us again, we fear it as something dangerous, as a loss of identity. We hold on to our idea of self and we are terrified of becoming different. We get so caught up in what we see as strengths from our past way of being that we fail to see the value in what now arrives into our lives.
It’s OK to not be full of that energy brought about by hot sunrays, it’s ok to have a thinner skin, to feel that emotions will pour out of me, that I can’t function without the touch of other beings, that life needs pause to be fully lived, that racing is no longer my pace.
I am not as I was and that is fine with me.