I washed the dishes that had been left in the sink the night before. 

I emptied the dishwasher and reloaded it. 

I started a load of laundry and folded a load left in the dryer from yesterday. 

I wiped the crumbs and spots off the counter and wiped them down with a towel.

He went on to tell me that a teenager at the trampoline park was being mean. He was calling him names. He called him fat, and he laughed in his face. 

“Mom, I didn’t do anything to deserve that. I wasn’t even talking to him or interacting with him. I didn’t do anything, and he made the choice to be so cruel,” he said.

The house was filled with people and excitement. The noise level was far outside our normal volume inside of the house. The energy of Christmas was palpable in the house and, if I am being honest, was slightly more than my nervous system could tolerate even though I loved everyone in my home and I adore holidays with family.

I jumped up and ran towards him as he stood frozen, pointing out on the porch. An enormous Bobcat sat on our 3-season porch, looking intensely into my eyes. I stood staring back at the magickal animal, with eyes locked on each other, energy surged through my body. The Bobcat was white and grey with pointed ears and intense eyes. It stood close to 2 feet tall with a stillness and a calmness that sent chills down my spine. 

Tonight I cried. 

Sometimes, I cry when I am frustrated and feeling stuck in life. 

Sometimes, I cry when I am so tired that everything hurts, and it feels impossible to get everything done. 

Sometimes, I cry when I am mad and the kindest thing that can come out of me are tears. 

Sometimes, I cry when I am overwhelmed, and it feels like the weight of the world is resting on my shoulders.

“Erin, I have to tell you about an experience that I had,” he said.

“Yes, tell me, please,” I said with anticipation in my heart, knowing and feeling that this would be a large insight.

I was walking up the back stairwell when I noticed one of my cats trying to get in the back door. I paused, realizing that this was out of character for my cat. I put down the things I was carrying and opened the back door to let my cat inside. I looked around to ensure that no other animals were in the yard scaring him but saw nothing. My body felt uneasy, there was a tightness in my chest, and I recognized this tightness as my body trying to talk to me.

There is something about Thanksgiving morning that I really love. The calmness in the house before everyone arrives. The stillness inside of my body as I prepare for the day and all of the events that the day will entail. The yummy smells coming from the oven and the stovetop, washing over me as I get food ready for the day. The light as it begins to creep over the horizon and light the world after a long night of darkness.

On this particular Saturday afternoon, I found myself disassociating from what was being taught. My mind would wander, and I would find myself lost in thoughts about other things rather than following along with the training. I used some of the somatic-based tools that I had learned to create more capacity in my mind to absorb the content, only to find myself disassociating again.

As I read his post, I felt energy hitting my body. My body understood what my mind couldn’t yet grasp. A long time ago, I learned to work with this pattern inside of myself. I knew I didn’t need to chase the thought. My mind was trying to understand what my body already knew, and if I just allowed myself to tune into my body and the wisdom that it had, eventually my mind would catch up to my body. As I sat in a state of openness and felt the sensation in my body, my mind got it.