In Uncertainty; Honor the Pregnant Pause. This is Collective Networking in the Invisible.

I stay silent sometimes when a client has just tapped into really potent information about themselves. I sit with them in that tension because I know how important it is, and how many times they’ve run from it (usually right into a bar, a shitty relationship or the refrigerator). 

Anything to avoid the uncertainty of that tension. It gets quiet, there’s tension and you’re scrambling for what to say, hoping as you scramble that they beat you to the punchline.

The pregnant pause. That’s what this is. Collectively.

Some people during these sessions, feel into the space created by both of us holding down the fort of that signature of tension without running from it. But most people quickly ask a question, or subconsciously try to retract any validity to the root they've just unearthed. They want to bury it with words when the bar isn’t an immediate option. I’m one of these people.

They want to cover up, me to dress them with some decorative niceties rather than being with them in the depths of the uncharted territory of self they’ve just exposed. 

Often they want an immediate “answer” as if a call and response style of being with someone is what makes conversations “worth it” to have; but instead, the response, in these cases, calls for silence. And in most of these cases, we’re uncomfortable with that. 

Silence can be deafening. If you’ve ever done way too many drugs and were left alone in a field under a vast sky scape having to cup your ears because of how loud silence actually is, you know this. And not voices-in-your-head-kinda-loud. The tension holding your bones into place, being clear to you to be in direct communication with the field (matter and cosmically) around you, feels provocative. There is no mute button on that kind of silence. There is nothing to do but stay with it.

It too, stays with us, never giving us the honors of beating us to the punchline of diffusing that tension. Us and the big ole’ U (Universe), are being asked to stay together in the discomfort.

That’s what this is.

This is an opportunity to be in the pause.

I’ve dropped any project from my to-do list. Not the most entrepreneurial thing to do, but it is the most Me thing to do. 

Birds are chirping, kids wrestling on the trampoline with a roaring laughter, wind chimes harmonizing with the breeze Herself while the laundry on the line breaks up all of these sounds offering the scent of lavender in the direction of the hammock in which I’m laying on next to the baby playing in his pack and play.

I see buds budding, and the possibility of earths resurrection on a larger scale than Spring herself brings each year. 

I don’t know what the aftermath looks like. But, I have a tendency to believe it’ll be the very beginning of something very beautiful.

All of Chris’s gigs are cancelled for months. We’re both very small business owners which require us to be in good health, and if we make it through (which I no longer just assume), we're with the majority of our country, whose family will be at minimum, heavily compromised by this situation. 

The outcome isn't now. Not for us anyway, though I know a lot of the world is sadly facing outcomes they wouldn’t wish upon an enemy; but this is sadly, nothing new to the collective and sadder still, completely out of my control.

The angle we’re charged to see through is the looking glass right in front of our own God gifted eyes, to do our best to see as Christ would have Us see; not the media would have us see (even when the media is True).

The process; the pause, this is here. 

We’re not asked to make up for all that lost time we’ve spent in pursuit by trying to be more of something in this time now that we’re given to be satisfied with being and having less. Here we are, stripped down to ourselves without all the pollution of “should be’s.” This is where, like the dolphins return to Venice, we stay with ourselves through every vessel as we move through the stillness watching the dust of unimportance clear.

Here’s to listening to the paradoxical deafening silence hearing what it means, to be truly alive. 

We are the keepers of the earth, of rainbows, and of anchoring heaven into worlds underground. We are not here to be anything more than we already are.

This is where we energetically tend to the garden; which doesn’t come in the sterility of the concrete jungles of our psyches, holding up the idolatry of pursuit, just to watch it all fall in times like these. 

This is when we receive the fertility of the void, and trust both the void to secure us, and the fertility to grow us into a freedom our inner terrain has longed to know itself in. The time is now to just be.

To be stripped down, uncertain, discovering unknown blades of grass we’ve long taken for granted that tend to our feet whenever we step outside. The time to not have to “be” anything other than here, while we’re still here, is now.

We live in a world that tells us to break the tension of meeting ourselves in relationship, in uncertainty, in silence, in intimacy too deep for our comfort. We’re hyper focused on running away from the tension of what it feels like to actually be here. Here, where we can hear ourselves drenched in the communion that’s always in communication between ourselves and our immediate surroundings.  

The quiet. 

Don’t fill her. Feel her fullness.

Stay there. 

She’s pregnant.

Let’s give her space to birth something unseen, but known, into the stirring matter of a new potential reality on earth. 

Can you hear that? Shhh. Stay.

From the ground, right here, is where we bloom.