Capturing my heart’s thoughts around transition

This material is copyrighted by M. Kirby Moore.  Reproduction without permission is prohibited.  To support Kirby in his business and blogging efforts, please visit Kirby’s website.  Thank you for visiting!

Dear Readers,

Are you still out there?  🙂   I sometimes go weeks these days between posting here, so I wonder…  Anyhow, I am writing today about my on-going transition.  I am moving to Florida in less than two weeks.  Wow!  It is really happening, and I am going whether I feel ready or not.  I am ready, but I still feel a little trepidation.  I have faith and I am aware of a desire to know what I am going to be doing once I am down there.

So I was speaking with a friend recently and she (you will know who you are if you read this – thank you for the clarity by the way!!!) articulated something which really resonated for me.  I have been walking the dog in the mornings here, and sometimes the clouds are clinging tightly and precariously to the mountains behind my parent’s house, in a most beautiful way.  I wonder if they are a reflection of my inner state – am I clinging on to my life here because it is what I know.  I could grow, I could expand, but that is unknown and I am at best anxious about the unknown.

Sometimes I see the misty mountains in the distance.  They are shrouded in moist air or the distance makes them blur and blend into the far horizon.  Nonetheless, my heart tells me that there is a poem that needs to be written about Virginia, about the Rockfish Valley, about leaving my life here.  So she asked me, “is there any grief around your leaving?”  “Do you have any melancholy about this big shift?”  And I’m honestly not sure – if I do, I have not given it time to articulate itself.  I barely feel it.  I have slowed down so much over the past year or two, and yet, do I need to be going slower to truly feel what my heart is trying to express?

I like something else that she said.  I mentioned that I got sick last week in a strange and mysterious manner.  I said I thought it was because I was stretched so thin, that I did a house call with a new client and that might have put me over the edge.  She mentioned that she was “Pacing [her]self [energetically and] emotionally.  That it was basically like running a marathon.”  Now I don’t know about marathons, but what she said definitely resonated.  Maybe I need more “me” time.  Maybe my adrenals and endocrine system need an entire day off with nothing, and I mean absolutely Nothing, to do.  I don’t know.

And that is okay!  I am capable of resting in “I don’t know” mind.  In fact, this is where I go nowadays when I meditate.  I try to let go just a little bit more.  But this move is big.  This unknown is big.  So I rest back into wisdom company.  I try to remember my teachers and the joy that brings me.  I stub my toe and curse and then I keep moving forward in a mindful, healthy manner.

So maybe soon (I’m hoping!) there will be a poem about misty mountains and clouds gripping the edges of the slope and about my sadness at leaving my motherland.  Wish me luck!

And thank you for reading.

Published by Kirby Moore

Kirby Moore is a healing facilitator based in the beautiful rolling hills of Charlottesville, Virginia. He does sessions in-person and long distance via Skype and Zoom, working with Spiritual Astrology, Somatic Experiencing, Biodynamic Craniosacral Therapy and Birth Process Work. His healing work is informed by fifteen years of meditation and Qigong practice. He works with client's intentions and deepest longings to attain clear, tangible results. Contact him for more info at (email): kirby [at] mkirbymoore [dot] com

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