I feel very accepting of my lot. Yes, I’ve had a change in situation, with home schooling getting plonked on my plate, and yes, I’m now running a school canteen with an endless parade of mealtimes. But I am genuinely enjoying and finding great purpose in the last few months. And I can say that when this is all over, I will look back on our time together as a family as a gift.
But does that mean I can’t also experience resentment?
Before this most recent lockdown, I went to an esoteric healing session. These sessions unravel and heal the root cause of problems on an energetic level and have been enormously beneficial to me over the last few years. I wasn’t going in with any major problems, just a sense that I was being niggled by my family members more than usual, sound familiar? It was only small things, narky comments under breaths, tones of voices that carried frustrations, sideways glances and the occasional dummy spit.
But what I discovered in that session was a heavy stone of resentment that I had been carrying with me for many years. The weight had been added so gradually, that I hadn’t registered that it was lodged within my body. I’d intellectually reasoned that while my responsibilities had increased over the years, I had nothing to be resentful of. I had a husband who was actively involved in the domestic side of our lives, and I was happy to take on the day‑to‑day responsibilities of the children. I didn’t have to worry about our finances and I was able to make choices about my life freely.
But there it was. A hardness, a tension, that had invaded my body. And as I soon discovered, it had also invaded the quality of my actions and the quality of my thoughts. It was a seed that I was holding onto, a justification that things should go my way, after I had sacrificed so much. I had been topping up that resentment at the bowser to fuel me through my day. To drive me on, to keep me hard and to keep my deeper feelings at bay. Feelings that I told myself, could impinge on my ability to power on and keep the wheels turning.
The next few days after that session I felt an enormous shift. It was like I’d taken off a backpack after hiking or removed a pair of rollerblades. There was a sense of lightness and relief because I was no longer ignorant to the weight and discomfort that I had been carrying. And with that came a sense of tapping into a super charged energy that still fuelled me through my day, but also allowed for space and gentleness.
My movements have softened and now carry a deeper level of tenderness and patience, without the slightly manufactured edge. Sure, it’s not perfect, I still catch myself with furrowed face when the kids ask me what’s for dinner as I’m making breakfast, but it is something that has come to the forefront of my consciousness. Something that I can now acknowledge without attaching a narrative of shame to. Something that once acknowledged and observed, can be let go.
Carly teaches yoga to people of all ages on Sydney's Northern Beaches. She loves sharing her forever learning with her students, as together they unfold and deepen their connection with themselves and each other.