November has thus far been a beautiful opportunity to release into yin energy state, which is very much the opposite of my instinctive tendency to fill my life as full as possible with pursuits and activities, fearing always that if I am not creating then I am doing nothing meaningful, that if I do not stay active and engaged, I am losing invaluable opportunities which may never come again. That I can't ever take a break because I will miss something critical.
I am turning away from that more and more as I realize that my need to heal, and that it, me, the act of becoming, is more important, and that ceaseless frenzy of energy I have been trying to engage and output runs counter to my personal needs right now.
Releasing, stepping away - it is so difficult, because our culture does not encourage it. We are encouraged to fill our lives fully with activity, from working all day to binge watching television at night as we reach out unconsciously for food and drink to fill our bodies. When stressed, there is a pill to take or a tea to drink. Even meditation is a "thing" to try. A skill to learn. These learned ways of processing our world are shaped through the values our culture espouses and spreads from generation to generation, person to person, all enshrined in the lush promise of commodities and possessions: That we must seek them, must seek fullness. We are afraid of being without.
Finally understanding that I can let go for a while is redeeming, but also very frightening at the same time. Because I don't know what to do with myself if I am just sitting on the couch. I feel this is time I can use to catch up with a friend, do the last few things in my garden before winter, play with my cat who wants attention, read a novel, research that thing I wanted to learn more about, start 10 new art pieces, make myself a snack, take out the compost, organize my closet, anything, everything.
But it is also okay just to sit here and be still. For when I don't take that time, the clamor of life becomes so relentless that I do not stop to think and make the right choices for myself in a myriad of moments.
When I do not bind myself to the illusion that every moment must be full, I invite in room for change. I can listen for the flow in motion around me and not have to get involved. I can just sit. I can just be.