Seismic Shifts :: Gossamer Threads :: Minimal Chances | Meghan Gilroy

A gossamer thread.

A single, shimmery line drifts from the porch railing, floating in the air. I can only detect it as the breeze stirs and it comes into sharp relief against dark wood in the background. As I track it intentfully, my path snaps into focus.

For the past few weeks, I’ve been following an undercurrent of energy that runs through my life. Paying attention to how I feel deep within, taking action when I’m moved to and feel an inner alignment. Freezing, slowing down, dropping into a network of stillness when I feel the pull to presence or don’t know which way to turn.

Tracking this thread of next steps and flow and surrender and action and embracing it all and pleasure and pain takes so much attention and so much letting go. I’m allowing myself to be lead, inch by inch, enormous leap by leap, to living in a way that really resonates with my soul.

I’m deconstructing an old dream, starting within. A dream that was based on me forgetting who I really am – pure light, Life, cosmic ability. One rooted in disassociating with my power. As fast as this old way of being is crumbling, I’m building a new one.

Despite feeling scared, I’ve been speaking uncomfortable truths.

Despite questioning my sanity, I’m making choices that make no sense but feel dead right.

Despite wanting to push and fix it and make it happen NOW, I’m going slower. Tending to the energetics and motivations and clarity and clearing first. Then making choices to support what I want in my outer world of cars and homes and relationships and money.

It’s a grand experiment. Can I live in the moment and allow life to unfold, know when to take action or use common sense? Can I run a business and earn a living this way? Can I trust my intuition and live from my heart?

Yes, but it’s a minimal chance.  In my shamanic tradition, there is a saying. You have a minimal chance to become a nagual, a shaman. You have a minimal chance to leap when presented with energetic openings.

My life feels like a series of minimal chances right now. If I’m willing to open my eyes to the infinite possibilities to real-life challenges that can leave me feeling cornered, I’ll come out the other side happier. I won’t be unscathed – there will be loss involved. Loss of ego, pride, old patterns of navigating. Loss of fear. Most likely I’ll also give up some of the form in my life. Who knows… homes, cars, belongings, they come and go.

The esoteric and the everyday are weaving around each other. Compassion in action. Embodying the teachings in trying times. Individuation. Independence.

I’ve heard so many people talk about the seismic shifts in their lives. I gave up an unhappy marriage and lost security, money, scraps of companionship, but I’m so much happier now. I went through cancer and came out stronger and more content on the other side. I let go of my home, downsized, sorted through a lifetime of accumulation, left my community of 25 years, and now know what’s important to me. Inner and outer aligning.

Seismic shifts are uncomfortable. They shake up the core of our beings, our assumptions, our foundations. They bring up the hidden pain, and the half-hidden lies, and the out-in-the-open discontent. They peel away the dead weight of long stored wounds, of outdated ways of thinking, of lives that aren’t really serving us.

Once the rubble has settled, they reveal our light, our strength, our beauty. Our conviction and values rise to the forefront of our lives. Our battered hearts beat more strongly and the scar tissue knits into new tougher skin, gently covering the vulnerable pinkness inside.

I wouldn’t wish a seismic shift on anyone. And yet when the minimal chance of a major transformation presents itself to me, I leap into the unknown and following its gossamer trail. I’m burning bright, a comet in the sky, calling out to all of you soul sisters who are on this crazy wonderful path of awareness and transformation, navigating seismic shifts with grace and tears and courage and sensitivity.

Ride the wave. Feel the undertow. Get dunked but come out sputtering mad. Swim as if your life depends on it, but rest and float, be buoyant too. We can do it. We can be it. Welcome to a whole new world.

From my heart to yours,

 

Comments

comments