I knew this move to Copenhagen would be a huge investment. I knew it would stir within me old patterns, echoing something so familiar yet new. My arrival has been a kaleidoscope of new images, sounds, smells, tastes and, most importantly, feelings. The excitement as I landed kissed the sadness of letting go – of everything that has brought me to this point.
The tears of vulnerability that have poured out of me since arriving could have filled all the drought- stricken dams across South Africa.
What has been interesting to observe is my fears; they aren’t real, yet they seem to hijack my moments of newness and spontaneity. These fears can be very trying, sending me on tiring mind loops that weave their web, as slowly these little creatures of anxiety and self-doubt find their grip. They stick to the fabric of my own made-up stories, and begin to dance in waves of unworthiness, self-loathing and feelings of not being good enough.
Yet this flavour of change and movement has opened new levels
of vulnerability. I’ve had to surrender to a new part of me.
The past three years have not always been easy; I’ve moved countless times…jobs, houses, countries. In so many ways this was, and is, just another move, another push forward, another step into the unknown. For the most part, I’ve been prepared and ready to embrace change.
Yet this flavour of change and movement has opened new levels of vulnerability that have caught my free spirit off guard. I’ve had to surrender to a new part of me, as I allow this rollercoaster to play out while I stay fully present.
It has meant a radical step deeper into self-love, acceptance and being gentle with myself, when all else feels so distant and far away. It feels like I’ve been running a marathon; I’ve trained so hard to get to where I need to be – now I find myself in the final part of this journey that requires mental strength and endurance.
There is no security map – only a map of intuition and trust. It is a trust in the unknown that only I can keep alive. With today’s spiritual notions of ‘just be with it’, ‘trust in the universe’ and ‘allow yourself to surrender’ (and even as I write this, my cynical side is dancing a little dance), I am able for the most part, to understand and accept them and apply them in my life.
Yet as these past weeks have needed so much strength and spiritual stamina, I’ve found myself really questioning the notion of TRUST.
Then the magic happens. Out of nowhere, when I least expect it, I’m cycling along the water with beautiful clouds forming, people playing and laughing, and I am taken to the present and powerful moment of NOW.
There is no security map – only a map of intuition and trust. It is a trust in the unknown that only I can keep alive.
It is in this moment, when all senses are awake and I can’t think of being anywhere else that I’m open to the magic of being present. My trust is reinforced as I remind myself that we can only take one moment at a time.
As we allow the dots to be connected, allow the tears to flow, allow the emotions to boil over, we purge the negative thoughts, let the old echoes chant their chat and let the waves roll into each other and find their form.
And as we do this, we need to look after ourselves – take time to dance, run along the beach, eat well, rest, make time for ourselves and be kind to the process of change.
I have no idea how long this transition period will be, or how long this adjustment will take. I can only hear the voices of my beating heart telling me this is the right move, I am blessed and grateful for all the learning and all that will be. I also know that I will step out of my deep vulnerability to rise stronger and wiser than before. After all, I will be learning a new language.
Denmark, I welcome all that you will bring to me.
