The Bump

Real change does not feel soft. Its a bump – a big bump, that moves your life ten feet in a direction you never expected. If you’ve ever been through a big quake, you know moving your life ten feet in any direction is an epic journey that will leave most homes in rubble.

This morning I woke up angry. It could have been the memorial we attended the day before, for a young mother who chose to check out early. Thats got to be the biggest bump of all. Her family, and most of all her son, have been changed forever.
I saw other friends there feeling a bump in their own lives, one who just closed up a new business for good and is expecting to give birth in a few weeks. Upstairs in the muggy yoga studio turned make-shift grief room, nothing seemed to be a fixed target. My feet searched for something more stable than the trembling bamboo floor to connect to.
Lora Jannsson wrote about anger recently in her blog post Anger As Plague. Her life was recently gripped by its roots and shaken hard. Her answer is to go deeper. She has traveled so many miles of rough road, her ability to take it to the next level has been hard won. I think she is as familiar with being bumped as anyone living can be.
Our family pack sleeps together on a king sized futon in our cob studio up on the land. Bella has her dog bed, but she always sneaks on after we’ve fallen asleep. Laying there in the pre-dawn fog I felt the tightly bound tar bundle of anger twist and writhe. I knew if I worked with it, not turning away, it might open up, releasing its treasures. I started to breath.
Its always been time to awaken spiritually, to live freely expressing our full selves. Now it seems, its time to turn all the lights on. I think the earth is done waiting for us to get our act together. I decided it was time to get up no matter how early it was and find the space to take this work deeper.
The chickens were a bit surprised to see me letting them out so early, they didn’t budge from their perches as I headed into the main house. I don’t usually turn on drumming for anything other than journeying, but this felt right. Laying on the living room rug I began breathing techniques to travel deeper into the feelings, into the place of holding.
Me – a long time ago

Through my breathing I traveled back through pain and anger, deeper and younger. At times I felt I was drowning again, like when I was very young and jumped into that lake. Eventually, the fear dissipated and there I was: a bright young spirit of about ten years old. This piece had been retrieved for me many years ago but I never fully integrated its energy. It was the best and brightest of me, sensitive, open, happy.

The anger was caused by the lack of his presence. A hole had opened up in me, a grief at losing something so precious. I was ready for this piece to return, I was ready to fully hold its presence and live its vision.
I learned how this part left my life. It was a hundred bumps, years of being dismissed. After the torture of not being received, it just disappeared. The death suffered by the unseen.
I saw my youth as a tapestry of tenuous moments. One improbable miraculous potential reached out to another, sometimes they grasped hands, often not. Our youth is a gift so delicate, handling it in almost any way risks crushing it. Any bump, good or bad, can change everything.
This part was ready to return, happy to be here again. My own son has taught me to be parent enough for him I suppose. I look forward to the new directions he will take us.
This bump is not over, I suspect its not over for so many in my community who seem to be rocked with new potential lately. These may turn out to be fore-shocks, rare tremors that are harbingers of a massive shift. I feel the energy returning, one bump leading to another, building as they go.

Blessings to you and yours during this time of great transformation.

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