[a year in review] 2020 edition, part 2: slowing tf down

Above all the things that I examined within the year 2020, perhaps one of the most important themes for me was to slow the fuck down and deepen.

You may or may not know that when I was a late teen I sustained a significant traumatic brain injury — a stroke that paralyzed the entire left half of my body for a month. As of this writing, it’s been over 17 years and my nervous system is still healing.

So I’ve been somewhat “forced” to slow down due to my physiology, and it took me every second since that acute medical experience up until/through 2020 for me to actually accept my condition — which actually means I had been spending tons of energy fighting my reality. Energy that could’ve been used for recovery or other nourishing things.

And it wasn’t until the lockdown last year, when there was nowhere to go and no one to see that in August I was invited by a teacher to deepen into this responsibility I had to myself and my body: to let the left side of me lead.

Obviously it hasn’t been a perfect journey; I’ve plateaued puh-lenty, but the seed had been planted at the foundation of my life. And I’ve descended, one step at a time  — sometimes the impatient part of me will try to rush down the stairs, but I’m learning my nervous system and my subconscious will almost instantly readjust me.

Do you know what happens when you slow down?

You start to feel.

And in this anti-feeling (anti-feminine) society we all live in (and, yes, participate in), living in a deeply embodied way will often hurt — like, a lot, because feelings buried in the body don’t actually go away when they’re not felt in the first place. We’ve all been culturally indoctrinated to live primarily by thinking, closing our hearts, and rushing through our lives like it’s just something to “get through.”

This takes its toll!

This is why our collective went through so many uprisings in 2020. We’d finally all slowed down, and the feelings became too much for society as it was to bear.

Anyway, most likely my “2020 year in review” series will explore many of the infinite topics that 2020 brought up for most of us. Slowing down has been such a needle-mover for me that I’m considering creating a subseries within the 2020-in-review series.

So if there’s a part of you reading this having trouble with even understanding what “slowing down” could even look like, I’ll start with a suggested practice.

(The conditioned better-faster-quicker/high sensation-seeking part of me would have had me pour out, like, every last thing I’ve tried in one post — which eventually creates a sense of helplessness!)

If your mind is accustomed to a constant stream of anxiety, worries, projections into the future, I especially recommend this one:

Integrate regular breathing breaks & meditations into your life.

I struggled for YEARS to embody this. In fact, I’ve even been working with my 1:1 coach for three+ years who held my feet to the fire to this practice for maybe an entire year or two — one of my family legacies is that of constant anxiety, worry, and panic, and I needed to chill TF out (and drop in to actual presence). She still reminds me of this sometimes even now.

Do I meditate every single day with regularity? There are times, yes — for instance, when I was in Italy a year ago and they were being hit HARD with the virus-that-shall-not-be-named and the tension in the air was practically solid, and we were just steeped in it. Especially since government mandates were changing daily and it took a lot out of me to sift through the Italian news each morning to know what was up (I don’t even watch the damn news in general, even in English).

So I doubled, tripled, quadupled down and started every single day with meditation (and the rest of my morning practices — more on these later). I peppered it into the rest of the day, like my life depended on it.

Because honestly, fear does a fucking number on my nervous system. I become physically imbalanced and uncoordinated, I become a little forgetful, impatient with myself and everyone else, and I get controlling.

I was not willing to feel that way, not even for what rapidly turned into a global pandemic. Besides, I was in my second home, in Florence! And I was staying in an adorable Airb&b with a super gracious host, and I wasn’t willing to have the experience of feeling depleted all day, every day, for eight days straight when there was so much wonder around me.

On some of our walks to the grocery store, I’d put an earbud in with gratitude affirmations running in one ear. This would color the way I saw everyone around me — the people carrying so much fear and tension in the wild unknown — and I could, instead of be hijacked by the same, access compassion and feel the presence of the Divine with every step.

My favorite track at the time to play was a gentle one by Sarah Blondin on Insight Timer: “When We Must Endure.”

Because when the Wild Unknown grabs us by the wrists, blindfolds us, and promises a new, breathtaking experience, the only thing to tether to is the Truth — the love of the Divine that is always there, has always been there, and always will be.

Warmly,