The last few weeks and months, I've often had a feeling that I am drowning in all the things I have launched into creation, to the point of no longer enjoying it as there was barely any space to breath, to eat or to rest. I looked at myself in the mirror and I did not like what I saw. A woman whose smile is gone and who has worries on her face, a woman who breathes shallow and whose light in the eyes is dimmed.
Russia was a good re-set button. I could disconnect from everything that is part of my reality in Belgium and simply let myself flow. Thanks to my parents who compassionately accommodated all of my & Alisia's needs. No notion of time or next thing to do, barely participated in any household stuff, just flowed in and out of each day.
Buying a house sounded such a great next step for us as a family. Totally aligned. Happened in flow. Little did I know how much energy it would require and still requires. Energy that was dumped in buckets. For someone who loves comfort, any slightest discomfort is an energy-eater, and coping with discomfort for weeks made me quite irritated inside.
Combined with following very intimate coaching studies that require a beautiful and harmonious space for practice, which I am still creating, I started asking myself "why did we need to move now?" Doing practices in-between things, when Alisia is not around, juggling several balls in the air, often falling asleep at the start of practices, then waking up an hour later to resume.
Slowly slowly, I started feeling tired every day, no longer looking forward to the day.
A part of me is feeling guilty to write about it, because most of the work actually happened not by me or by us (Dylan and I), but with a beautiful support of the whole family for which I am so grateful. I can't even imagine what it would take if we were to do it completely ourselves. So, yes, support was there, generously. And still, I got exhausted. From all the decisions that needed to be taken, from all the choices that needed to be made, from the move itself and the discomfort of adjusting the place to our needs. Some people flourish doing this type of practical things. I don't, very clearly. So I will think twice before moving again.
Being in Russia, I let my blood be tested as I felt so tired and unmotivated, and allergy intensified. The results showed low iron, low vitamin D, and some new allergens. No wonder. I used to say: "Do what your soul calls you to do, and you will flourish. Do what your mind calls you to do, and you'll get sick." This is how it feels. That I followed what needed to be done the last few months, because it was all launched and needed to be kept in motion. A great reminder. Thank you, body.
Daily emails, people asking if I know whether retreats will 100% take place this time or not. I wish I had a crystal ball. I am 100% in, you know, as this is what my soul is clearly calling me to prioritize next to my family, and the reality of the past months was that we kept postponing due to the government measures. Summer looks promising and I cross my fingers that we can FINALLY gather and create some beautiful Magic again.
As for personal coaching and tantric bodywork, I have had several requests that I kept referring people to other coaches and bodyworkers, or postponing. There was simply no space. Till July, people, just a little bit more patience. And so so gladly - I can't wait myself. Some delay happened with finishing my practice room, so instead of May, it will be finished in June.
And now in quarantine, together with my little girl, at home, cooking, washing, cleaning from morning till evening, and studying in between, when she is asleep or when Dylan is back from work. Next week back to kindergarten - halleluja!
Quite some venting here. So needed. Phew.
Today I switched on a powerful and aggressive piece of music and was kicking pillows and dancing wild, and after about 15 minutes I felt a relief, a return. Here I AM. Still alive.
I am ready for a new wave. A wave of lightness, joy and pouring my energy into my soul's calling. It's coming, I feel it.
