SOWING THE SEEDS of STABILITY

Sometimes I feel as if the business of being alive revolves around the constant re-creation of the self. As I approach my Uranus return—what is considered to be mid-life or, in Jungian terms, the afternoon of my life—I can attest to the fact that my journey thus far has consisted of many different events of which the most remarkable ones have had to do with the necessity to change course, to pick up the pieces and rebuild, to scratch and rewrite a whole new chapter. In other words, the most definitive moments in my life have been about re-creating myself and my life, thus constructing my evolution. These moments I value greatly.

I happen to be someone who appreciates change very much—perhaps because I had to face substantial and involuntary change early on in my life, which imprinted a lesson for decades to come—though I know that, generally, change can cause a lot of distress; the fear of the unknown, the uncertainty of what’s to come is the sort of thing that gives birth to a proverb such as “Mejor malo conocido que bueno por concer,” or it’s counterpart in English, “A known devil is better than an unknown angel”. For the most part, we humans seek stability, the relief that can only be had when there is certainty of how things unfold and what we can do about them; But because I cultivated the pattern of being on the edge with such fervor, certainty has not been of great importance to me. I know that as much as we can strive to achieve this sensation of certainty, our condition of being alive implies that there is a process of growth—physical, emotional and psychological—which is composed of many, many changes. Lot’s of them. ALL THE TIME.

To deal with this reality, my strategy has mostly consisted of inviting change. As if by my creating lots of instances where I have to change, I could then beat the normal pace and somehow outsmart the inevitable surprises that are to come my way. To a certain extent this strategy has been helpful; I can say with confidence I am a resilient and highly adaptable human being, capable of handling myself adequately in a vast array of environments and situations. The many instances of change that I have provoked in my life, have been great practice, and have prepared me well for those other instances that come unexpectedly and naturally. I feel very capable to face the Unknown.

And I also feel a little exhausted now. 

I have swam in the exhilarating waters of the unknown with bravado, and that has led to so many great adventures that I will never regret; all of those of experiences have shaped me into the person that I am today, and I find myself, richer, wiser, more complex and profound than if I had opted to follow all the rules and stick to conventionality, no doubt. Choosing to take the off-the-beaten-path has widen my perspective and provided me with the juicy moments that make life worth living, overflowing with challenges that produce the nectar of self-awareness and, eventually, self-mastery. Now, as I see myself getting closer to the afternoon of my life, I sense I crave a different sensation.

Maybe this sacred year 2020 (that continues to spread its aura through the beginning of 2021), with its persistence on isolation, uncertainty, lack of touch, and restrictions of so many kinds, has also marked a kind of rite of passage for me (and for humanity as a whole, we could argue), one that has finally made my change-inducing flame to extinguish.

I am now craving stability. I am dreaming of the fertile soil where I can grow roots and, like a mighty oak tree, grow large and sturdy, and very, very stable. I do want to fly again and continue to see the world and all its wonderful things, but I am feeling more and more inclined to focus my energy on grounding myself, investing in creating a sense of place that I can claim and feel is utterly mine.

This feels like such a contradiction to what up until now has been my modus operandi; I have to recognize that, to a certain extent, this incessant hunger for change has also been a sort of defense mechanism that has prevented me from developing the steady, compounding effect of remaining very still. So now, I am ready for a change (ha! what a lovable oxymoron).

And so, with a humble heart, I am now sowing the seeds of stability; for grounding, for claiming my place on the land, belonging fully and with commitment, growing from that space, and expanding from there. My adventurous spirit will never go away. Only this time I don’t want be provoking changes so much anymore; when they come, I’ll face them, and I know I have enough practice that has given me the tools of resourcefulness and creativity required to tackle them. And so this time, the change I invite is for STABILITY. I am ready to live this life on different terms, where grounded, committed, and sustainable energy becomes an anchor for blooming in place, in grace, in gratitude, and in steady openness.