And the signs say, "Don't Push"

I am a woman who believes that there are messages in everything. In other words, everything is symbolic to me.

So, what am I to think when 10 days before I head to my long-awaited, greatly-anticipated trip to the UK, I fall into a small well on uneven pavement – a hole, if you will – after a day full of clients? Grace in action, I am not. My fall necessitated wheelchair services at both JFK and Heathrow. Those are humbling experiences. A friend asked, “Why didn’t you cancel your trip?” I responded, “It never dawned on me.”

However, I know from years of experience that when the gods are ready to change my game, something happens to my feet. I think my feet get prepped or energetically reconfigured for a new platform upon which to stand.

Once here in my beloved London, I do not do my usual running around. Obviously, running is not part of my repertoire these days. I am sidelined, temporarily. Clearly, slowing down and rest are on the agenda.

However, while in bed, I experience bed bugs and fleas. What does the intense, maddening, can’t-sleep-at-night itching want to say? I can only guess. And then the home where I am staying is surprised by mice and the cat on the premises doesn’t interrupt their winter vacation plans. Hmm … visitors.

In a hotel where I had stayed for two nights, there were three room changes in two days because of … oh the list is too long. The hotel folks were lovely, but they did ask me on the way out the door if I thought I was cursed. “No,” I said,” The gods are talking to me.”

There have also been recurrent bouts of vertigo, major-league spins that keep me in bed. So, if I am not scratching, I am dizzy and holding on to the mattress for all its worth as the room does a few whirlies. And none of this is consistent; it all comes and goes in varying unexpected waves.

And there is more – much, much more -- with departure dates, schedules, planned trips, usual way of doing things, but, suffice it to say, the bottom line for me has been nothing is normal or as planned. Clearly, I am being told to slow down, get quiet and to stop pushing. I cannot control anything.

Stop pushing … exactly how does one do that? I thought pushing was good thing. I got things done. I was accomplished, making tracks, going forward and being uber-productive. The divine masculine energies within me were pulsing pell-mell. Control means safety and predictability, right? Obviously, that is not always the case; I point to myself as Exhibit A.

The divine feminine energies speak of being and allowing. Allowing doesn’t require an organizer, much less a clipboard and a whistle. There is no analyzing everything to the nth degree or planning into the next millennium. Allowing says we hang out in the here and now and simply go with the flow. Allowing makes room for surprises; allowing calls in the intuitive.

Allowing feels a tad counterintuitive to my usual ways of being. Given I have so over-emphasized the divine masculine energies, I am out of balance with the divine feminine energies. And the ideal is the merger, the divine marriage, if you will, of the masculine and feminine energies; one supporting the other.

So, my best guess is that I am getting rebalanced -- kind of like a tire rotation, but this is more a spin of the karmic wheel. It’s hard to get my attention, but, clearly, the gods managed to get me to stop. So, these days you will find me sans struggle. There is no more fight; no more push. Today, I allow; whatever happens, happens. This allowing feels pretty good and, for this moment, the room has stopped spinning and the screaming itchies are quiet. Not so bad, when I finally get it.

P.S. And there is some lovely irony in all of this in that I have just finished a book on balance. The gods do have their fun with me.