I awoke last Saturday morning - my birthday - with the phrase "stubborn belief" swirling around in my head.
I let it settle in a bit, curious about its presence, especially on such a special day.
Under periods of stress (such as during this #movetochange that I shared about last week), old beliefs about not being able to have what I really want/need start to rise to the surface more forcefully. It sounds like, "It can never be." These ideas that were formed so long ago can then come to dominate the other parts of me that aren't bought into this paradigm, the parts that trust in the goodness that is life and in the knowledge that all things are conspiring for my well-being and joy.
So here I was. Stubborn belief.
What it would it be like, I imagined, to stubbornly believe in what might be? To stubbornly believe in the big dreams I hold? To stubbornly believe in the inherent physical, emotional, psychic drive to wholeness? To stubbornly believe that God/Universe/Spirit is wanting good things for me?
In this phrase I could feel strength. Clarity. Calm. Ease, too.
And then some interesting things started happening.
To start with, some of my painful feelings about all of this intensified and I let them rise. I allowed myself to have deep, healing tears and received tremendous external support.
Then I read an article that spoke so deeply to me about my immediate need for radical self-care, for tapping into my wild feminine self to guide me in that.
Then I read some promising research about a supplement I was prescribed that left me feeling really at ease about some things happening in my body.
Then I read a blog post about our deep interconnectedness and how money is a part of that.
Then I received some beautiful gifts that spoke to deep, wild, connected parts of me.
In all of this, I could feel the belief that "it can never be" just starting to slip away, ease up, step off to the side.
I could feel a spaciousness emerge. And in that spaciousness, I could begin to feel my wildness. My deep, intuitive knowing.
My body began to ask for more movement. I wanted to play around. Challenge my muscles. Explore my ranges of motion.
My desires began to emerge more forcefully, and my boundaries, too. No, I don't want to take that course on NVC right now. No, I don't want to facilitate that gathering. Yes, I want to go play in the dirt. Yes, I want to slow down and really listen to my heart.
And my connection to others began to feel more grounded and true.
I didn't will any of this.
None of it was effortful.
I didn't try harder.
I just allowed for the flow.
All of this reminds me of one of the most powerful teachings about health that I've ever experienced.
In fact, my very first newsletter here was about it!
When we think about health in the body, we can think about flow of blood, lymph and electricity. Since how we use our bodies EVERYDAY impacts how things are flowing, we can dramatically improve our health by exploring where flow gets interrupted (or becomes turbulent) and adjusting our movement patterns to address that.
When I first heard this definition from Katy Bowman, a whole lot of things clicked together for me about the body.
But not just in terms of mechanics.
I realized that flow is about so much more. There's flow of emotions. Thoughts. Seasons. Relationships. Chi. Spirit. Energy. Breath. Beliefs. It goes on an on....
And all of these things impact our health.
Our willingness to allow for this flow - a wild, wild act of stubborn belief in the goodness of life! - is what enables things to shift, open up, change, grow, heal.
It's what brings us health - health in our bodies, health in our relationships, health in our belief systems, health everywhere.
As I tap into this flow, I hear my inner wild telling me to slow down a bit. To eat more food. To play more with my family. To go into the woods alone. To get my hands into the dirt. To laugh and pray and to ask my womb for guidance.
And to do all of it in stubborn belief.