There is a wonderful poem by poet and author David Whyte called Start Close In. In it he challenges us to stay close to what is truly our own question/path/next step, and to not be smothered by other people’s questions/opinions/ideas about what our next step should or shouldn’t be.

This is easier said than done, especially for those of us who have gauged our worth on the value we are to others. But I agree that starting close in is essential if we want to live in a conversation WITH life, without trying to dictate the terms and conditions.

It’s a vulnerable place, though, owning up to what our next step is – the one we don’t want to take. We don’t want to take it because it is unknown territory and it’s frightening, even if (or because…) it’s what we long for on some deep level. What if I go for it and it doesn’t work out?

Longings don’t get buried in shadowy recesses for no reason, after all. Others can see glimpses, if we let them close enough, or at least see the behaviour we put in place to protect these tender selves.

I had an astrology reading last fall from a wonderful guy named Eric Myers. The adjective he used to describe my predominant behaviour was “productive” – which in itself isn’t a bad thing (and certainly more palatable than control freak or slightly bossy, which I’ve also been called from time to time.) But that productivity, he said, is covering up essential aspects like creativity, sexuality, and overall self-expression. This was not exactly news to me, but the confirmation got my attention.

I see this habitual way of being other-focused at play in even the smallest ways. I’m with a beloved friend visiting a beautiful home on Gambier Island. Skipper the lab took me for a ramble through the woods and I’m back now, gazing out at the ocean, ruminating on what I may or may not write. Doing this, I’m reminded of just how essential nature is to my wellbeing. I was born a stone’s throw from the ocean in a small village on west coast Vancouver Island. I find something deeply reassuring about the smell of cedar boughs, wood smoke and salt water. I long for it, but even though I’ve had an open invitation to visit here for some years now, it was my friend’s need for a getaway that motivated me to action.

Eric also reminded me that as I begin accessing the disowned parts of my creative and sexual self, sadness, grief and anger are bound to emerge in the process. I’m no stranger to these emotions but I’m increasingly aware of my inability to STOP and just hang out with myself doing not much of anything. Like what happens on a holiday. Relaxation.

My trip to Gambier reminded me of this. The smells, the pace, the fire, the dog – all brought to mind holidays of years ago when I would return on a regular basis to my childhood home by the sea. Part of me longs for the simplicity of those days and mourns their loss, but my takeaway from this exploration is the importance of factoring downtime, especially in nature, into my life more deliberately. There is no question I am long overdue for a vacation. I am as perplexed about my behaviour in this realm as anyone, especially knowing the science about the benefits! Is it just a defence that keeps me moving at such a pace? I will mull and report back in future posts.

What about you? Do you have desires you hold so deep you can barely acknowledge them? I’d love to hear your next step, the one close in, the step you don’t want to take…