You may be in a cave. Perhaps you are aware of all that is going on outside the cave. The sounds of weeping and sorrow reach your ears. The negative energy of rabble-rousers pokes at you. The tremors of too-near implosions are wearing on your heart.
But you are still in the cave.
In the cave you are birthing new things and a new way. It is hard work. Particularly because you are not all too sure what the new way is. You know what it won’t be, but can barely see what it might be.
In the cave you are shut off from the normal hustle and bustle that you’ve been so used to. There is no need to drum up work or contacts or the next greatest thing in the cave; the cave compresses you down to your core self.
This is both liberating and scary as hell.
Birthing is hard work.
It is the darkest before the dawn moment. Moments that go on for a lifetime, so it seems. You cannot tell what will be after this cave experience, you just know, that as a woman might fight against labor only to delay birth, that to fight against this, your time in the cave, will also delay birth.
There is something to be said for settling in, becoming quiet, groaning through, allowing the disillusionment of not seeing up from down. It won’t last forever even though it feels so at this time.
Here is what I suggest.
First: Let go of the hustle. The go to and the come here and the wait for me. Just set it aside. It can wait. You can pick it up again later. Right now, hunker down, rest as best you can, allow the waves of birthing to wash over you. Settle in. Go with it.
Allow the pain of this place, to do its work.
Second: Connect with your inner strength and that gut faith deep within you. Normal life barely compels you to this level. For normal life has you on the hop-to-it and the taking care of business. Not so in the cave.
Here, you are forced back to complete and utter trust in the process of birthing. It will result in something new and beautiful. I guarantee it. But you must become quiet in your spirit. Thrashing will not accomplish the outcome you desire.
And then: turn off your ears and your eyes. Here is what I mean. The business as usual that is outside the cave. The world that spins on in more ways than one. Turn away from it. Just for a time. Be intentional about the core work right at hand. Allow a focus on the here and now. Take care of business in the cave.
Birthing is hard work and you must not pretend that you can do life as normal. This you know. And for every second in which you forget this, remember. Give yourself all the permission you need to birth the new thing.
Drink warm liquids. Stretch and rest as able. Groan as need be. Silence yourself in body, mind, and spirit. Be still. Allow the pain to do its work.
You don’t have to force a birthing, you must just let it happen.