I feel blocked when I leave your house
My best friend said on the phone last night, “I feel blocked when I leave your house.”
I’m reeling. I mean, it’s not like the chaos she sees here is a surprise to me, but hearing her say it was like a punch in the stomach. My entire home is intentioned around making people feel welcome, loved, comfortable, and at ease. That my own best friend feels blocked just stuns me.
She said it was hard to say, and she wants to help when she comes over, that she loves projects. I appreciated her words, I know I have her support, and I’m shocked by the way I’m reacting. I know it wasn’t easy to confront me.
My feelings have run the gamut from deep gratitude for sharing with me so openly, to sobs of overwhelm, to anger and wanting to lash out at the world with denial because I want this not to exist in my life as a problem, to questions of how many friends don’t come over because they feel the same way, to shame because as an energy healer, isn’t a blockage of any kind exactly the thing I’m supposed to clear and remove? Oh, and I refuse to accept help. I want to do this all by myself, probably some misguided path toward redemption around all of it. So, as we can all see, I’m finding myself focusing on everything else except the actual issue at hand, which is cleaning up.
For the past week, I have been talking with her about the miracle of lymph and its amazing, powerful role in our bodies. I’d been planning to get a manual lymph drainage massage from a local practitioner, I’ve been wearing tank tops under shirts instead of bras so as to eliminate constriction around the lymph nodes in my chest, and I’ve been working out at moderate levels to help activate the lymph. She was like, “You’re all about the lymph. What about the lymph of your house?” Yes, wow, right, the lymph of my house. Good point. Why am I looking to make an appointment to leave my house for attention to lymph when there’s plenty to move around right here.
Now it’s the day after the “I feel blocked” bombshell. After talking it through with Mike, I’m looking forward to shifting all of the media in our family room downstairs into the living room. Better for the flow of our household since it’s right next to the kitchen. A meaningful shift toward something we were eventually planning on doing anyway, and probably good lymph drainage for the home to boot.
I’m also gifted with the awareness of the power of connectedness around all of this. From her deep connectedness with me, she was able to share some tough ideas. Moving the media downstairs makes for better connectedness within our family’s daily rhythms and patterns. Reclaiming the identity for each room and considering what belongs, and doesn’t belong there, makes for a connectedness within each space. It will all enhance our lives as a family.
Forcing myself to remember that I am *more* than a clutterfilled, messy house requires a certain level of connectedness within myself. Not denying the reality of my filled-to-the-brim countertops and mile-high “To Read” piles of papers and catalogs, but also holding fast to the idea that there is more to me than this. I am bigger, I am more than, this chaos. I lost sight of that for a couple of hours last night as I let this problem headline a soul-crushing list I made about my worst qualities.
And as I tell my clients in crises like these, timing is everything, and I’m apparently ready for the change and the shift that comes along with saying no. more. feeding the sickness that is this climate and saying yes to healthy flow and living more fully.
And change is just really damned hard.
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