This piece was first published on The Weekly Service website, where Rose is an artist in residence.
Nothing is forever.
Change is the only certainty.
I know this in my bones somehow, and in a weird way, this knowledge brings me a sense of peace. Yes, there it is, my heart has unclenched with the reminder.
Yet, for as long as I can remember, I’ve always been anxious and fearful of change.
That is, unless it is change that I have instigated, can predict and control.
Fear of uncertainty led me to…
Fear of uncertainty led me to rush into decisions and actions and life directions that were totally wrong for me, because I mistakenly thought I couldn’t possibly live in the space of the in between, the not knowing, the uncertainty.
Fear of uncertainty led me to working long hours in jobs I did not enjoy.
Fear of uncertainty led me to propose marriage to someone I knew did not love me.
Fear of uncertainty led me to live in cities I did not want to live in.
That is, until:
The pain and damage brought upon myself by my attempts to outrun the fear of uncertainty broke me.
It was only then that I learned:
There is nothing more powerful, potent and mystical than the exquisite tension between the euphoria and melancholy of change.
When I sit with the unknown…
When I sit with the unknown, and watch it with the wonder and curiosity of a small child, it dances, twists and shifts in the most entrancing kaleidoscope.
When I sit with the unknown, it pushes and pulls my heart.
When I sit with the unknown, it makes me cry and sing and dream and gasp.
When I sit with the unknown, and talk about my fears and hopes with other people, it brings connection and closeness, somehow diluting the fears and making me believe more in my ability to surf the waves of change without drowning.
When I sit with the unknown instead of running from it, I am showing up for myself, for the other people in my life, and for our future together.
I am allowing uncertainty and change to flow to and through me, even though it sometimes brings me to my knees.
I am reminding myself of the exquisite power, potency and mystery of the unknown
I am reminding myself of the exquisite power, potency and mystery of the unknown when I dance-thrash-headbang-shake-glide-shimmy-cry-laugh-sigh to music that makes me feel powerful and invincible while I wait for my morning coffee to brew.
I am reminding myself of the exquisite power, potency and mystery of the unknown when I begin each morning by sitting on the floor, lighting a candle, and making random repetitive marks across a page, exploring how different colours dance and clash when combined.
I am reminding myself of the exquisite power, potency and mystery of the unknown when I record songs without rehearsing or writing the lyrics in advance and just let whatever needs to come out come out: songs of yearning and uncertainty, frustrated shout-sung diatribes, and smooth soothing lullabies.
I am reminding myself of the exquisite power, potency and mystery of the unknown when I paint without letting myself look at the canvas/page.
I have no idea what is going to happen next. But maybe that’s a good thing. Because it means we can create it together.
Love,
x
(One of the bards for this season)
PS I wrote this listening to this playlist I made of songs that help soothe me in times of unsettling change.
PPS A couple of weeks ago at the service I asked “What’s just one thing that brings you peace, and makes you feel at home in your body in the current moment, no matter what else is going on?”
I made a list of your answers, so we can all refer back to it when we are feeling overwhelmed or stuck…
Doing jigsaw puzzles
Painting circles over and over again across a page
Licking or eating a lemon or something else with a shocking flavour
Spending time with objects stored in a precious “sensory treasure box” – squeezable stress toys, putty, objects with parts to press, spin, etc. (collected from the kids toy section at department stores, and cheap import shops)
Journaling gratitude, lists of happy memories or things to look forward to, or negative beliefs with best-friend replies
Jumping up and down and thrashing arms and hair about for 10-20 seconds
Having a warm/hot shower, but turning it straight cold at the end (a reset for the central nervous system)
Standing in a superhero power-stance for a couple of minutes whilst reliving a highlight reel of happy memories
Drawing a hissy-fit mandala (draw a massive circle on a page, then fill it with marks, scribbles and words of any emotions or thoughts you want to let go of, and then destroying it when it’s finished, by tearing it up/screwing it up into a ball and throwing it out into the rubbish or burning it)
Going for a walk and paying attention to nature (variation: pretending you are an ant or bird and attempting to notice new things that they would see that humans usually don’t)