The sensation of balance hums a low note through my left knee. Recently injured, I find standing on this mostly healed joint feels different – somehow more supported. February has been the month of yin; slowing it all down. In Chinese medicine, the left side of the body carries most of our Yin; our earth. These are qualities of dark, slow, soft, internal – what is traditionally thought of as the feminine. Unless you are left-handed, this isn’t the side we are used to leading from. My month of yin included lots of flowers, a 1-1 session with Michelle Rose Boxley, alternating work sessions with rest or exercise, various bedroom and sleeping rearrangements, dreaming, resting, reading and breathing.
A helpful metaphor for people who are neurodivergent in nature is that of a fizzy bottle. Shake it enough, and the drink looks normal. Nobody can see the pressure building, only the bottle can feel it. It’s not until the bottle is opened (or explodes) that something is obviously wrong, usually obvious in the form of meltdowns, anger, shut-downs or tears. I have learnt to identify this in myself; the state of getting ‘too fizzy’ in a way where things cannot express themselves through me. In many ways, the world does this to all of us through over-stimulation, ‘busy’ cultural conditioning and status anxiety. It is dominance of the Yang in society, the part of us we think decisions are made from.
After more PhD anxiety and a heap of recent life changes, January was (by necessity) extremely Yang. It was sorting stuff out, navigating change, keeping busy, trying to be practical (whilst processing grief) and not sleeping a lot. Some great things happened, such as an artist walk which is part of my research. This possibly was the highlight of last month. The video below shows highlights of our walk, which involved walking with the idea of a/r/tography.
This film is part of a presentation I am giving next month at an event in Worcester. For Therapeutic Landscapes: Ritual, Folklore and Myth I will be activating some yang (post month of yin) to do the speaking in front of people thing. The process of slowing down with myself has resourced me for this occasion, and a lot of potential to get very fizzy indeed. Interestingly, the month of yin allowed my work to come from a different place and sidestep overthinking for a change. From this, new insights and directions naturally emerge. These include re-focusing my PhD question, having organic and fruitful conversations, and starting to feel creative again.
In the story of La Loba (as told by Dr Clarissa Pinkola Estés), a wolf-woman collects bones, especially the bones of those which are in danger of being lost to the world. When she has arranged them into a skeleton, she sings over the bones –singing flesh, fur and life back onto them.
“She creeps through the mountains and the dry riverbeds, looking for wolf bones, and when she has assembled an entire skeleton, she sits by the fire and thinks about what song she will sing. Then she stands over the criatura, raises her arms over it, and sings out. Hence the rib bones and leg bones of the wolf begin to flesh out and the creature becomes furred, La Loba sings some more, and more of the creature comes into being.”
Clarissa Pinkola Estés
Doing creative work is like the work of La Loba; always transmuting the tired and exhausted into new life, new possibilities. We need to do this for ourselves too. This resetting the bones has been literal as well as physical. After an injury and a month of approaching things with a different energy, I noticed one day that my head and neck, which have always been uncomfortable to tip backwards, suddenly open up and out in a supported arch. I can now lean back and tip my head back comfortably in a kind of backbend; something fundamental and intrinsic has been realigned. Alongside the process of becoming more embodied, strong and physical (thanks to yoga, lots of walking and strength training) these physical and mental shifts occur from a place of not-trying-so-hard and simply showing up.
In March, I will try to allow the yang to dance in me whilst continuing to lead from the left. This new feeling is unfamiliar, yet now sings rather than hums. She is singing a song with only two words; lean in.