Tune in to Your Inner Wisdom
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Words by Louise Wellby
We race along.
We are surrounded by others on the track, determinedly moving forward, head first. We cannot hear ourselves above the din.
We race along.
We barely take in the view. There is far too much to do.
We race along.
I was a floating head. I call it my ‘I don’t know’ phase. I could not make small decisions. I did not know. And truly, I did not know. I was disconnected from my body, my inner knowing. I was a floating head, I was an endless to-do list, I was say-yes get-shit-done, don’t think about stopping. My body tried to talk to me. Headaches, skin, troubled sleep, brain fog…
I did not know how to listen. I did not allow myself to listen.
It was more frightening to stop than to continue, safe in my high functioning, highly productive, just-keep-going state.
At the bottom of my to-do list, in the right-hand corner, were the words: Wellbeing and Creativity. If I finished everything else, then, I could hypothetically attend to myself, my heart, my life force. Of course, the everything else kept refilling, the list was never going to end.
I did not know. What I wanted. How to listen.
“There is more wisdom in your body than in your deepest philosophy. ”
Not knowing how things will turn out and which way to go can feel incapacitating. In truth, we can never know what is ahead. Instead of ‘working it all out’, why not befriend your uncertainty? All we can do is experience, attune our senses, our instincts, live with awareness and trust that the path will be shown.
If we force and forge forth without feeling, we disconnect from our bodies and we deny ourselves room to evolve naturally. To throw your hands up and admit you are at sea is a vulnerable experience, you cannot help but feel alive. When I began to listen to myself and admit that I needed to - Stop. Listen in. Begin again - I became less fractured, less frazzled, and, gradually, more whole. I stared into the darkness, I practiced yoga, I wrote, I sang, I walked, I broke down, I began to allow myself to feel, to be.
How do I listen?
Cultivate a kind attention, a non-judging, curious listening. The kind you would bestow on a creature in need.
Slow your pace.
Ask questions and do not seek answers.
Write things down.
Be still and be quiet every day.
Nurture yourself as you would a budding plant.
Listen to your needs.
Do not rush and fill and cram.
Consider your choices.
Listen to your energy and how it responds to different environments, people and activities. Hear your inner radio and challenge it,
and shine a loving attention towards all that you find.
“Do you have the patience to wait
’Till your mud settles and the water is clear?
Can you remain unmoving
’Till the right action arises by itself?”
Your sensitivity is your strength, your portal to connecting with yourself and all that surrounds you. Your capacity to sense, to listen and to feel deeply is a source of power, it is your superpower.
Let trust and patience be your fuel, rather than agitation and expectation. Inhabit the expansive unknown. Get to know your rhythms and pulses, your cycles and longings.
Inhabit the discomfort of uncertainty and tune in to the wisdom of your body, an inner ancient knowing, an enduring flame, beyond the layers of noise and distraction we swim amongst.
Choose patience.
Choose listening.
It is a practice.
It is a wild path.
It is heart-led.
It is ever-evolving.
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Lou is a creative and nurturing yoga and sound teacher, taking yoga to a very diverse range of humans, from lawyers to artists, teenagers to travel agents, school teachers to paramedics. Lou loves connecting people with their inner resonance and harmony. When she's not tuning in on a yoga mat, you can find her singing and hosting gigs with heart across the city, London, her hometown.
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