A Rude Awakening, Appreciated

I woke up this morning to jarring, banging, pounding—as if someone was trying to demolish the building. It upset me, but only for a few seconds, because, courtesy of difficult neighbors, this is how I had been awakened for months on end. A few minutes later as my mind cleared, I realized the noise was different than usual. Rather than door slams, crashing pots and pans, and shouting, this time, someone was actually building something. Was that a drill? And, yes, there was a hammer. The whole building shook, but that was nothing new.

There was another big difference. The neighbors weren’t here! This was perhaps the third time in months that they were gone. Why? Because, this time, someone else was making noise loud enough to disturb them. I think it was coming from the stairwell, but, by now, this noise had become a part of me, stuck somewhere in the outer layer of my emotional body.

When this began several months ago, I thought perhaps I was being warned of an upcoming earthquake; after all, California is due. I also realized then that this was a metaphor for my life, a life that had become shaky at best, one whose foundation was threatened. Not a comfortable seat, even though I had been the first to rush forward and claim it. A bit later, I mused, perhaps this is what happens when you ask for inner peace? The divine chef of the universe serves you up the noisiest most obnoxious din she can muster. This seemed even more likely since the message was coupled with the external illusion that these were nice people who weren't capable of screaming obscenities or producing a jarring, shaking, pounding clamor every five to ten seconds for hours on end. Surely, they were only cooperating to further my own life-education.

By now, you may be wondering why I’m still living here. As I write this, I can’t help but wonder the same.

But something happened this morning when I realized that this noise was created by actual construction, rather than disturbance and chaos. I remembered that, just two days ago, a ten-year-old leak in the bathroom sink had been fixed. And the plumber had been good enough to repair the tub faucet as well, just in case. One of my Twitter friends reminded me that this represented energy that had been dripping out of me for, well, ten years. I knew exactly what kind of energy it was. Water, our feminine energy, is also our life force. Appearing through our emotions, it is the energy that is often suppressed, that goes unnoticed. This bathroom leak, in fact, had been slow, barely noticeable, until I placed a cup beneath the faucet. I had been surprised by how significant this drip-drip was. It added up at the end of the day...week...month...years. This vital force, the emotional expression of the passions that fuel my life, had been leaking out for as long as I could remember.

This is the same force that is apparent when our emotions come out in a flood. Once, one of my colleagues tried to warn a laboring patient of the dangers of postpartum hemorrhage. Searching to find an appropriate illustration and fueled by a sense of urgency, she walked over to the sink faucet, turned it on full blast (water droplets dancing and exploding into the room), and said, “See this? This is how quickly you can bleed out.”

I realized that I had lost the entire content of my suppressed life force over and over again, slowly but steadily…drip-drip-drip-drip…

Yes, this day was different. The drip had been fixed, and I was feeling stronger, already thankful for the extra energy. And this time the very structure that had been shaking beneath my feet was being repaired. And it was in the stairwell.

Now I have a functional sturdy exit.

****

What aspects of your life are leaking your life force? Do you recognize this only when it comes rushing out? Are you on steady ground? What foundation or structures in your life need repairing or reinforcement? Have you been heeding the signs?