A moment of regret, frustration, disappointment, wondering why different choices were not and are not made, a life lived less than all that I am and that it could be…
These were some of the feelings that washed over me one morning recently after attending a Universal Medicine event: my own regret and devastation of living life in delay, in avoidance of living all of me in every single moment.
Great question, and one I asked myself many times that morning while sitting at my desk. My answer to myself: there was no reason other than my own choice to not live anything more than what I had been choosing and had chosen up until that point.
I have always had an innate feeling, a knowing of what was needed, the choices I could make and should make, but avoided at all costs. Distractions and excuses were always close at hand: computer work, household duties, children, work, eating, shopping – you name it, there was always a plethora of things at my beck and call when I needed to avoid feeling the purpose of life.
If things were going well, it flowed. I was healthy, financially well off and supported, no arguments in the relationship, the kids were happy, so why bother to change anything. Sure, a few adjustments here and there at times with my routines, rhythms, relationships and diet, but that was it, and to be honest, at the time I felt like that was enough.
I was making the odd adjustments, what more was there to do?
Even with this thought, there was always a tension in my body, a knowing that that was not enough, that even though my life looked amazing, it still was not it.
I was sitting back resting on my laurels, and when the realisation came that I was where I was at because of my own choices, that just because life was ‘good’ – it did not give me a free pass to kick back and relax.
There is always more to me, to life, to the bigger picture and the purpose. Life is not meant to stop still, it is forever unfolding, deepening and developing, and I was the only one that could initiate that – no one else. The realisation and devastation of what I had been avoiding was overwhelming, it hurt and was not something I could run away from; it was in my body, raw, uncomfortable and confronting.
I could hear the children play and sing in the backyard, unaware of my tears that flowed and the thoughts I had been allowing to come in to keep me in a state of Un-Godliness, a state that had been impacting on everyone in one way or another.
The choices I had made and was making created a tension in my body, a tension that would come out at times in frustration, resentment, comparison and judgement of and towards others – not because of anything they had done, but because of what I was not doing or living. My heart ached, as if it had been ripped out, broken in two and stomped on, a pain and devastation I had never felt before.
The biggest hurt of all was that I had allowed myself to continue to live in such a way for so long with the absolute knowing and awareness of what I was choosing and doing. I’ll do it tomorrow, one more day won’t hurt, but tomorrow never came, and it did hurt. Avoiding tomorrow meant I didn’t have to feel the hurt.
It had become a game: how far can I go, how much can I stray and yet still come back when I wanted to? But what I have come to realise is that each time I take that step away from what I know to be true and needed, I only ever take half a step back to myself as I begin the walk back through the muddy footprints I walked away in.
Walking away from the presentation yesterday, I could feel the discomfort and awkwardness in my body, how I had begun to give myself a hard time for not living the more, for not making different choices when they were presented. The regret and beating myself up began to flow thick and fast, and it had a good hold on me for most of the evening and the following morning.
Now I have a decision to make, whether to walk back through the mud, through the imprints I left behind, to walk in the glory that is all of me, honouring and living true choices, building a foundation in my body that allows nothing less than absoluteness and fullness in every instance. How that looks and feels I have no idea. What I do know though is I have a great marker in my body of how it doesn’t feel.
It took me a while, but eventually I realised giving myself a hard time, beating myself up, only kept me in the momentum of that choice – a choice I was trying to move away from.
By letting myself feel the devastation and hurt – and it hurt a lot – I felt my heart had never ached so much. I wanted to run away but couldn’t. I let myself sit, cry and feel all that was there to feel.
I know I am not going to get it right all the time, that I may still push aside those feelings of truth, that the awareness may be too much in some instances and I may want to reach for an addiction of some kind, albeit as simple as a household chore to distract me or some Facebook time, but regardless of what may present itself, ignoring what I feel and see it is too painful to walk away from again.
By Nicole Serafin, 46, Woman, Self Employed Hairdresser, Wife, Mother, NSW Australia