Tentative Steps towards Myself

The gift of not being able to sleep is found if you can sit in the silence of your home and ask yourself what is going on that has left you wide awake at two am.
Leave the computer and TV off - and pull out a journal. Allow that anxious voice to speak. Ask what it means to not be able to let go/release/surrender. What is the fear? What is the story? Where did the ability to self soothe go?
I've written quite a bit over the last few weeks, digging and scraping away at what has been hidden by the busyness of life. I am sleeping now with the help of some supplemental hormones - and some clarity around what has been happening within my life. Perimenopause is like shedding an old skin. Old ways of being are no longer valid. Unhealthy patterns are no longer abstract ideas - they hurt and keep me awake all night. My body, mind and spirit seem to be speaking in harmony and as a very loud chorus they tell me firmly that certain behaviors are no longer possible.
I am on shaky ground, like a babe taking those tentative first steps on untried legs. My balance is no longer something maintained through sheer will - it is found in my ability to care for my body and spirit. It is not just my physical diet but that with which I nourish my soul. It is found in what I say 'no' to; it is present in the moment that I spread my hands and say 'this is all that I am and I can do no more.' Or: 'this is all that I am and I am amazing.'
I have spent the last few weeks feeling bewildered and hijacked. And yet, the truth is that I am my own kidnapper. The keys are in my own hands.