This past April I was forced to dig deep into my psychological awareness during the total solar eclipse which I traveled to the center line of Texas to witness.
First, there was the cement wall of storm clouds that moved into the state, threatening to obliterate our view. My internal dialogue began murmuring, then full-on whining as the weather report became more and more gloomy, sounding something like, “I drove eight hours for this?!”
I quieted my inner voice by reminding myself that nature requires us to learn the art of surrender, trust, allow, and receive. (Something I wrote about in The Fascinated Observer.) I took some deep breaths, and vowed to find the magic no matter what the skies brought us in the morning.
As it turns out, thanks to my husband’s investigation prowess, he found us a perfect location in a slightly different area of Texas that boasted the clearest forecast in the state. We chased the blue sky, and found ourselves at a quiet picnic area with a wide crystalline creek surrounded by the full bloom explosion of bluebonnets and Indian paintbrush that Texas Hill Country is famous for. So serene and idyllic, it seemed Mother Nature Herself picked the location on the map.
Awareness Whiplash.
“It’s perfect!” I gushed. It was 8:00 in the morning, we had been up since 4 a.m., and at this point we practically had the place to ourselves. There was nowhere I’d rather be for the next six hours.
And with that awareness of gratitude, I sighed with relief and contentment, then promptly sat on a cactus. (I swear it was invisible!)
Within seconds my legs and torso were covered with tiny spines that burned like the sun itself, and I had no recourse but to sit (stand, actually) and be with the discomfort. I defiantly vowed this mishap would not lessen my appointment with awe. (Shaking my fist at you, cactus!) I just kept murmuring through the pain, “It’s fine. It’s fine.”
And it was.
Because time spun, hours passed, and before I knew it the sun and moon were weaving their ineffable magic in the sky. I lost the ability to focus on pain or irritation at all.
I had transcended the cactus spines, straight into bliss.
Transfixed on something much greater, I basked in the anesthesia of awe.
Awareness is the invisible stratosphere that we exist within. It’s always there for us, asking us to step outside the story, the drama, the self-sabotage.
The first level of awareness.
Imagine that you’re walking around enjoying yourself and suddenly, with a startling crack of thunder, a typhoon rolls in on top of you. You find yourself pelted by wind and rain. What do you do?
What would any of us do?
We seek our tools, our resources.
We open our umbrella. We run for shelter. We don’t just sit there in the typhoon and yell, “This is so disappointing!” without taking action.
Typhoons come and go, just like emotional storms, disappointments, crushed expectation, and painful experiences–be they physical or psychological. Typhoons are nature. They are life.
As is awareness.
Awareness is the guide that never leaves our side. Awareness is the air we breathe, the shelter from the storm.
The first level of awareness sounds something like, “I am aware that I feel the impending doom of disappointment. I may not be able to witness the eclipse.” Or, “I am aware that my legs currently feel like I just partook in a cactus rodeo.” This level of awareness is important. Tapping into it will take you out of your subconscious complaining mind.
A deeper level of awareness.
But there’s a deeper level of awareness. The awakened awareness, or meditative awareness–the star-stuff of enlightenment itself–which takes us more solidly into our own grounding.
Deeper awareness is seeing the awareness itself. It’s becoming aware of the awareness. It’s “I’m aware that I’m fearing disappointment, and I’m aware that I’m seeing my old wounds rise to the surface as a result.” Or, “I’m aware that my legs are in a lot of pain right now, and I see that this pain is also triggering my disappointment wound, because I am aware that I’m fearing this will ruin my eclipse experience.”
This level of awareness allows us to pause and make another choice. It allows us to separate ourselves from the blind reaction to the storm, and instead channel that storm for our greatest good.
AWARENESS AS A PRACTICE:
With awareness we dig deep, we anchor in, and we see more clearly. We don’t try to bypass our emotional state. We don’t try to get rid of our emotional state. We take the time to become more aware of what we are feeling. And then we take it a step further and become awakened aware.
We observe that we are aware of not only the true nature of the storm, but we are also aware of our own internal interpretations of that storm.
Then we can make another choice, which sounds something like, “I am aware that I have tools. I can seek shelter in my mindset. I can honestly evaluate the things that I’m doing which might be making this storm worse for me. I can comfort myself by tapping into my feelings to ask the important question–what do I need right now?”
This is resilience, and these are the tools ~ the umbrellas, the shelters, the cavalry in the form of a husband who wields the tweezer that eventually pulls out a thousand cactus quills from your hamstrings.
And remember, that pain you’re feeling? That’s just transformation. That’s growth and evolution. That is you morphing into the most beautiful version of your authentic, soul signature self.
Awareness is the bridge that connects the storm to the evolution.
Have a story to share about your own awareness? Please leave me a comment!
Much Love,
Kristy
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