I cannot hold on to something. I cannot sit still. I chew very fast, I have no patience but I do see clear somehow. I feel restless. That’s probably the consequence of not being able to calm down or find that equilibrium I talked about in my first article on silence and quietness. My mind is spinning around, literally jumping inside, missing the point of remaining grounded. If I should envision it as a picture, it would be like a spaced out room and “spaced out” as the title. Imagine whatever comes to your mind; a spaced out thing without chaos in it.
I feel agitated today, this week, very much agitated. I was hesitant if I should use the word anxious or even nervous or anything like that. But part of me felt those words wouldn’t be focused enough, they wouldn’t be precise enough to mention what’s really going on in that spacious yet windy and vibrant state. It took me longer to find out what word would describe best the way these past days have been showing. Agitation though seems to describe that precise in between line of not euphoric nor excited enough to name it anxiety, and also not passive enough to call it nervousness. Agitation therefor describes that feeling I am going through best.
I feel confused. My vision is blurred, but inside me (most of the time I mean by that in the middle of my chest) there is a sense of security, a voice underneath that says “don’t give up, I know it’s hard now but don’t give up”, “you got this and you are less confused then you may be telling yourself”.
I am having a real headache while I’m writing right now. It is unusual for me to have headaches in general. But moments like today do feel weird to me. Actually, you can rather stay in that agitation and restless state of mind or you can, as I do, go deeper into it and start to observe. While I observe, most of all when it comes to something like agitation, I get that urge to put these feelings into words. I don’t why that is, and even if it could sound contradictory, it is always, or should I say, quite often, very difficult for me to get myself into writing. The start is especially anguish to me.
The more agitated I feel, the more difficult it gets to find the strength to write down. I guess that’s because I go way too much in my head, up there, and lose sight of the down here, my hands, and feet on the ground, which leads to the heart space. The sentence would be : it is okay to feel.
In fact, I obsess over that feeling or sensation first; the more it feels uncomfortable, the more I obsess over that urge inside me to write down and transform it into clear thoughts. But when I do, it works like a real catalyst to my soul and it really gets to relax my nervous system. What happens is like an energy neutraliser. I think, this is also very much the reason I fear that so much; as an introverted person, it feels as if I would expose myself, which I do in a sense. It’s liberating at the end, but for the mind difficult to understand that vulnerability has always been a strength, a real and deep strength. You just got to learn how to use it and how to show it.
But agitation though has that humour to give you a false impression that you are doing good, which in a sense is not untrue, but there is the excess of something, energy, getting stuck waiting for the pitfall to expose itself. There is inner conflict going on, and now I can see how much that increases a state of restlessness in me. My mind is turning around, like in a labyrinth. At first, I am calm, but then, as I cannot find the exit, which in this case would be, feeling calm and aligned. I try harder and faster, I push, I accelerate my speed, until I run, and run, and run, and… crush. It happens less though with time, it is a process a really hard process to undergo but not impossible.
The crushing part is difficult to explain, maybe there is a boundary I cannot cross yet, not at the moment but what I can say, is that it can show itself in different ways, like sleeping a lot, or bursting into tears, being more offensive with people around me, like a push and pull that I cannot always control. I feel it in my bones, everything, especially my chest vibrating. I feel my heartbeat more, I notice my muscles being tense, waiting to rather explode or relax, the challenge is the same: getting to the point of releasing the excess of energy that has built within me.
It is like a wave; a big one though, up and down. It needs to splash, deep, and hurt. The bigger it is, the more it will hurt, the louder it will be. The most confusing part, is that I still struggle to find the complement of agitation, and restlessness, which to me, would be feeling a healthy sense of tiredness. I don’t even know if I know what that is. Being tired. Just tired, not restless, not exhausted, just tired. Do you know that feeling? How is it? Or are you like me, and you get so agitated until you find that crush, that will bring you back down to earth?
If I should describe myself within elements of life, I would say that I am the wind, together with fire. There is no in between, light or fight, both together if they are aligned, balanced, can be very powerful, but this week, the fire is kind of off, and the wind is too much up.
I wish I could feel more tired, a grounded tiredness, that can tell me it is time to sleep now, it is time to stop, without feeling restless and agitated first. Moments that used to make me feel calm and relaxed, now feel quite frustrating and boring to my mind. There is a sort of indifference or let me say, dissatisfaction, because my mind thinks that they don’t work, which makes the whole situation worse. Whatever we try. It won’t work. In fact, as I observe, I notice the mind being afraid, waiting to be tired and yet afraid to rest so it runs. I notice that, by writing, I am finding out that I don’t wish to feel more tired, but rather to find resources that get me to accept the tiredness more then resisting it instead.
And actually, that’s not exactly true that anything won’t work, it’s mostly, for me now, part of resisting the rest, resisting the process of becoming tired in a sense, which therefor makes me restless. My mind refuses to be tired. There is something frustrating about it. Something much deeper that we will be going through as well. Imagine two parts of you one that says “ok I’m tired” and the other that says “oh no, there is more to do/see/think of”.
The mind tends to amplify perceptions and therefor interprets it in a way that, very often, is shown as negative and self-destructive… because it believes in a productive sense that it is what it needs, but it isn’t.
Why?
Because deep down, it comes from a place of fear, the fear of missing out on something “better out there, better out there, and better out there”. As I write, I will tell you how clear I can see and observe different parts of ourselves; the intellect, the emotional part and all coming together through the spiritual aspect of it.
Now, I can clearly find my mind telling “maybe I am losing myself while I write”, but the big difference I experience through time is that I don’t feel lost anymore. So the question or the lesson here could be on asking myself why can’t I rest, or before that, what do I need to feel less resistance towards tiredness? What is it that makes me feel uncomfortable feeling tired? And how can I cultivate tiredness, and rest for actually becoming productive on a deeper level of our consciousness?
There is agitation in me today.
Thank you for this gift.
Thanks for reading me.