Do you feel the change blowing?

* Excerpted from Compass Bearings

What do you do on your birthday?

For me, my birthday brings a period of reflection. It’s July 1st: first day of the new financial year and half way through the whole calendar year. The clock ticks over and it is time to adjust to a new age. It’s much pulling on a new skin, kind of awkward and tight at first. 37. Feels more serious than 36. Late thirties. Almost 40. Ageing. I even found more silver hair I’m sure were not there the day before.

These thoughts become ponderous and a little heavy with self-assessment: it is a karmic chalking up of things accomplished, things yet to accomplish, and an evaluation of who and where I am now.

All in all it feels like a type of doldrums. I’m stuck in a boat waiting for winds to set my sails against. Sailors must have gone crazy waiting for any movement, any sign of change, to shift the constant sameness on a silent sea. Even a squall would have been a welcome respite – any energy to give them direction and purpose.

Such is July in Canberra: a quiet and static time of the year, cold with snow dusting the mountains, and cool rains freshening the parched countryside. Leaves are gone from the deciduous trees, the days are short, and people scurry on the streets buried under scarves and heavy coats. Hibernation and retreat characterises the city residents.

My learning in the Law of Attraction tells me this is all part of the process, part of the natural rhythms of the seasons, the world, of me, of you. Inspiration and energy waxes and wanes like the tides. The winds will come again, eventually. I’m ok with all this. Finally.

This is the process of allowing and releasing resistance. This probably sounds a little hokey and new agey, but the words don’t do justice to what is essentially an experiential process. Allowing and a lack of resistance simply feel good. It means not making excuses or trying to find a reason for anything. It means simply accepting things as they are, rather than what you think they should be or desperately want them to be. It is basking in the ‘ok’ness of the present moment (yes I know that word is made up!)

It means making peace with myself: the grey hairs, the dimpled thighs, the to-do list left undone, the done-list that can’t be undone. It is forgiveness and peace I long for.

There is no other way to feel peace except to be peaceful.

The easiest way I know to reach a peaceful state is to get outside in the sunshine. Yesterday I went for a run in the nature reserve across the road. Golden sun speckled across the long grass, tall stately trees quiet, still, alive, vibrant. It felt good. I was filled with the energy of the forest, the air, and the vista of the mountains in the distance. Life is good. Being alive is good. Two years ago during my cancer treatment I would walk up on the ridge every day, dreaming of when I would be able to run again. Here I am now: fit, healthy, and alive. Everything else pales in comparison.

Being outside brings the beauty of the current moment front and center. Breathe it in. Breathe it out. That’s it, that’s all.

I know the winds of change will come just as I settle in to peaceful acceptance of the quiet times.

Much love to you all,

Zoë