Dying To Be Reborn
Texas summers are HOT! At first there’s so much energy, and excitement about the sunshine. Spring wildflowers popping up in every crack, and days by the water. The grass is green and plush… and then it’s scorched! It feels like walking on needles, and appears to be doomed forever… but it’s just taking a break. Dying so that it can grow again. I see myself in this picture.
Some of the blessings that brought so much sunshine and light into my life have left me feeling scorched. The house that I prayed for - to be able to have a home that belongs to me where I can have something of my own and care for it has at times made me question if I can handle it all. The work that once filled me with joy and purpose, now makes me question what I am even doing in my life. What used to really matter, doesn’t make my list of cares anymore. My focus has shifted, and parts of me are dying. It is a painful and confusing process, and something in my body knows that a shift is happening even though my brain can’t find the logic.
We’ve been socialized to value what our brains have to say - the logic is comforting, and it feels like we have control. The truth is that our entire being is working together even when they feel at odds. My brain doesn’t know where the feelings are coming from or see any logical reason for them. I have yet to crack the code on a plan that will bring action and control to this high heat, dormant season. But my body is nature, and knows exactly what is happening. I am God’s creation, and in that, connected to a network of intelligence, wisdom, and energy that makes up the entire Universe. Our bodies don’t speak the language of productivity and constant blooming. Just like nature, there is dormancy, death, new life, growth, fruit, repeat.
Listening to the messages in our bodies requires this understanding. And since we aren’t yet fluent in the language of our bodies, it requires us to slow down, to ask questions, to translate, to study the things we don’t yet understand. My first step toward building this connection to my body is trusting her, and knowing that she is not just screaming to the wind for no reason. She is sensing something out there that my senses have not yet seen, smelled, heard, tasted, touched. I won’t lie and say this is always my approach - it’s the work I’m being called to now. Sometimes my heart races and I cry, and my brain says that something is very wrong and we need to change everything right now, and I agree. Then I give it time, and continue to land in the same place - everything is ok, and this is part of being nature. The problem is that I am trying to fit in a social world that was not constructed for me, or anybody for that matter. The girl who was really good at fitting that model has been in the sun for too long, and someone new is emerging.
In this scorching disconnect of the now and not yet, I will use the seasons as a guide. The brown, crunchy grass eventually starts to pop up green with new life, having died and been reborn.
