This Holiday season was different from anything I had ever experienced before.
The people who I usually spend the holidays with were all on their own new adventures. As a result of some bad weather, I found myself spending Christmas alone holed up during a snowstorm.
Everything seemed amplified in the silence, all of the issues and situations unresolved in my world playing out on the backdrop of solitude. I had been feeling lonely and dwelling on all that is falling away in my life. The uncertainty left me feeling more alone than ever, and the familiar pang that I hadn't yet made my way to where I belong on this planet settled into my chest.
Being alone can be a gift. Too much of that gift can be lonely. But in this loneliness there can be much revealed.
Solitude affords us nothing but time for reflection, come what may of the revelations.
The Universe gives us what we require in order to come to the decisions we need to reach so we can make the changes that we need to make. I believe that. There are no coincidences or mistakes.
When we dwell on thoughts for too long, they can take on an insurmountable quality. Like a snowball rolling down a hill, it gathers girth and momentum. Decisions can feel impossible even if they so glaringly simple. We can become frozen and rigid consumed by them.
In solitude there comes a powerful lesson of letting go.
Stop fighting it. Stop being strong against it and crumble completely. Let the dam break and the feelings out and the healing in.
By staying strong against the changes and trying to be a pillar when I should have been a deep receptive sea I was damming all the fresh water from flowing in. By being strong I was blocking the changes that needed to flow.
No matter how deep you are down the path of your destiny and truth, there is always deeper yet to go. There is no such thing as perfection or being done. There is always more revealed in the unfolding.
I made a vow this Christmas that I would not be in the same situations that keep me frozen this time next year. Like the snowstorms and cold that pass, so too would all that stood between me and what I desire.
Storms do not last forever and our strength can withstand even the most grueling torrents. To let the warmth and growth of what is yet to come on the path, first we need to melt.
Photo credit Cat Burton via Foter.com