I’ve always found it interesting how easily we are swept up in life. I mean don’t get me wrong - you have to live while you’re living but we so easily forget that living doesn’t have to always be doing.
This time of year, when there is so much happening, so many people we haven’t seen in a while, or family arriving and celebrations to attend can be overwhelming to say the least. On top of that, here in Australia, it’s summer and so there’s a want and a wish to make the most of the warmer weather, to be out and about and living vibrantly in our communities. But here’s the thing - it doesn’t always feel like we get the rest we so truly need during the autumn and winter months and often that means that by the time we get to the end of the year we are literally burnt out, overstimulated and adding more and more to our plate like there’s some imaginary finish line to get over.
The void I’m finding (for me) is becoming more and more necessary, in pockets or whole periods of time it doesn’t matter. A chance to simply be. But more than that, where there is no expectation to be doing anything other than sitting with what rises.
There is a space in between, sometimes, for me, it’s in moments of our days, maybe when we wake up and roll over and look at the blank ceiling for a pause. Maybe it’s when the kids are in the pool with their dad and I could be out there too but actually I just need some time to be without noise being directed at or made around me.
This space in between is everything to me at this point in my life. And in fact I crave it because of the overwhelming number of tasks and activities that seem to fill my mind and the minutes of my day.
Of course this action and these activities can be beautiful in and of themselves but for me, I really notice my overwhelm when I don’t have time in my days (or at least regularly) to sit in the void. Do you know what happens when I don’t? I get so overwhelmed in my fight / flight / freeze response that often I freeze - unable to think, unable to do, but overwhelmed at amount of ‘stuff’ that needs to be done - my mind shutting down my capacity to remind me that actually I need to do nothing once in a while.
It can be hard to comprehend the level of ‘action’ and ‘doing’ that is present in our day to day lives if we don’t ever stop to sit. Time and time again I am reminded that it truly is the most nourishing place for my nervous system to be, not necessarily in complete deep rest and restoration, not in full stimulation either but that place in between - it’s empty, it’s vast, it’s expansive, it’s healing - I know that it also is hard to find and be in.
The word ‘void’ interestingly has been coming up for me a lot lately. Before it started showing up I recorded this yoga Nidra which takes you into the cave of your heart - a void that exists there that is warm, and inviting and peaceful. And then my heart, along with my community’s was shattered into a million pieces, and weirdly enough, where I am almost always a ‘doer’ in those scenarios this time I went into a void. I went into the cavern of my heart, unable to be fully in the world but unable to leave it either.
I literally felt that I was sitting in this immense vastness, incomprehensible grief simultaneously existing with having to parent, work and keep house. The world still spinning, action still taking place but me, somewhere in between. Speaking with my friend at the forefront of this tragedy just this week (some 6 weeks later) she spoke about ‘the void’ - literally sitting with everything that is coming up and letting it do so, processing it, living it, not avoiding it by doing all the time. The starting point of being able to sit with it however, was creating time to be - no visitors, no parenting, no to do lists or places to be. A cave that was safe to feel, process and begin to heal from it all.
And it reminded me how the void can be a hard place to sit in, but there is beauty there too.
The beauty of the void is in it’s capacity to heal us. Maybe not instantly, maybe not without tension and heartache and overwhelm first - but eventually, with time, the void becomes a place where we rest, deeply, wholly and fully. In that rest, we find deeper peace, greater capacity for our cells to literally renew, regrow and heal - the same for our hearts too.
One of the reasons I love the practice of yoga nidra is because it can take us to that place between. Besides the word ‘Nidra’ more directly translates to ni meaning “void” and dru meaning “to draw forth or reveal.”
There’s a great excerpt from the book that is guiding me (as I guide you) in this nidra that says:
A void is unknowable; it has been described as both empty and full. Philosophers and poets have dedicated pages upon pages to this concept, one we can’t quite grasp. Our journey towards the void requires us to surrender to the unknown.
Arriving to this place, to the state of peace that a yoga nidra can provide, or any time spent in the void potentially, requires preparation, clarity and above all else grace. In times of overwhelm, anxiety, busy-ness, heartbreak and really, any time - I encourage you to carve some time to be in the void.
As part of my new online studio I am creating, I am making sure that there are ample meditations, pranayama (breathwork) and yoga nidras for you to incorporate into your week. Sometimes it takes the guidance of someone else’s voice in our ears to ensure that we carve out a specific time, but it’s important to me that you do, that we all do. I hope you’ll join me there - and keep your fingers crossed for it to be ready for you to join me there on the 01.01.
And with that, I leave you to enjoy, this practice, some time in the void, and I hope that you remember that it is ok to sit like a blob, staring at a wall - in fact I encourage you to do so from time to time and see what comes up ;)
With love,
Kat xx
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