Monday, January 28, 2013

overflow ... overwhelm ...


 



Yesterday I found myself opening up Facebook, seeing a huge number of notifications up by that little globe icon (notice how they use the color red which sends me the message urgent! attend to now!), clicking to see what had seemingly caused the world to implode while I was slumbering. As I scanned the list of activity my head nearly imploded.

I had to close the laptop and walk away.

I couldn't figure out what was rattling me so ... I mean, there are many private groups I participate in with wonderful people, fascinating material, great ideas and support ... it wasn't the usual run-of-the-mill facebook fodder ... photos of people's Sunday brunch orgy or gripe of the moment (yup, I'm prone to posting my vent-du-jour) ... there were quite a few things I wanted to catch up on and yet that moment felt like the zen story of a professor visiting a master to ask about the teachings. As the master poured tea the professor kept talking and talking and  the zen master kept pouring the tea, letting it spill over the cup and into the saucer.  When the professor commented upon it, the master replied "You say you want to learn but you are like this cup: so full nothing else can go in."






Of course I am both the cup and the teapot pouring pouring pouring ...

I actually felt like there were all these voices shouting at me, vying for my attention and I could not hear my own self in that moment.  

I think it must be the season. This is a time of inward being, hibernation, sitting in quiet and abiding in the wisdom of that which has been as I rest and ready myself that which waits to bud and grow.  I know I have been sleeping much more - 9 1/2 hours when I don't have to set the alarm.  Being with my family and falling into the meditative rhythm of knitting. 









 



Making more snowflakes and suncatchers (for what little sunlight we have) and watching the birds come to the feeders.



 



 



 So excuse me if I appear a little recluse-ish these days.  I've felt raw and tender.  I cried pretty much the entire time I was at work today (a whole different story of overwhelm and frustration.)  I am peeking out, catching your words, images and stories but not able to hold much.  Allowing myself time to empty. Perhaps that is the reason for so many tears? Washing myself clean.  Clearing my cobwebs and internal space so that when I am ready, I can fill again.







I am seeking the quiet wisdom that surrounds me in my home.  Little faces and friends keeping my hands and heart busy.  Oh, yes ... right ... I am building right now ... a virtual nest for myself and for anyone who wants to join me (two week away!  my heart swells and new tears form, but of a very different nature!) 




 



Do you feel the same pull this season?  How does the rhythm of Winter manifest in your life?  I am curious as I peer out from my cave. 

4 comments:

  1. i had a snow-day today...and was wracked with guilt for not risking life and limb to get to work(s). that, my dear, is effed up in the biggest of ways...

    ...so cry those tears and let it wash away all of the stupid shit we rank far too high on our priority list and all the ways we try to be who we don't want to be because someone else demands it of us...

    bee-jay-sus....

    i'm looking forward to the re-boot into some heart-full living. there are lots of things i can't change right now, but there's no rule against me living it *my* way...

    big love, pots of tea and a fresh box of hankies heading your way..

    xo

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  2. Love this: "You say you want to learn but you are like this cup: so full nothing else can go in." as I say to myself "step away from the computer".
    I believe I had the exact same meltdown about a week ago.

    I feel you hear sweet mama, hibernate, we've got you in balance here in the Southern hemisphere with our scurrying hurrying season.

    Gxx

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  3. Sending you sunshine and fresh breezes. Winter can be a resting, hibernating time, a healing, learning time. It can also be a sad, cloudy, trying time for some. Hang in there, this too shall pass. The best is yet to come.
    Rosemary

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  4. i understand, lis. i have felt oddly more inward this winter than ever. difficult for me to find words to share, struggling to express what i am feeling exactly. a new friend here told me that the year of 40 (which i will turn this summer) brings with it big shifts and to be aware...perhaps i am feeling the weight of this, i am not sure. i do hope to venture back out into the sunlight soon.

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