This morning around 7am, baby Ostara (my almost one year old daughter) started burbling in her cot. Ten minutes later Stephen stirred and instantly went to the nursery.
I laid completely still, so tired I could barely muster two words.
A little later I heard our nanny arrive at the house. I was still completely motionless. I knew our bedroom door was open. I was fully aware she could see me in bed as she dressed Ostara and took her downstairs to feed her breakfast.
I still didn’t even open my eyes.
I heard Stephen getting ready for work. I felt his hand on my body and his kiss on my forehead as he said goodbye.
I still couldn’t move.
The nanny came up with a cup of tea for me. I pretended not to hear her knock.
I wondered what time it was. And questioned why I was still in bed.
And then the shame kicked in.
Who am I to stay in bed this late on a week day.
Who am I to stay in bed when Stephen goes to work, and the nanny arrives to start her shift.
Who am I to stay in bed when I’ve got work to do, a team depending on me, clients relying on me, and dreams I want to achieve for myself.
Who am I to preach to others about conscious containers, self-discipline and self-motivating work ethics, when I’m still laid in bed.
Who am I to make so much money when clearly I don’t deserve it because I don’t work hard enough.
And then I remembered my to do list.
The most daunting item of which was picking up the phone to my mum, my best friends, and my siblings. People I love dearly who haven’t heard from me all week because I’ve been so busy.
So busy juggling mum-life with work-life, and housewife-life, whilst putting my body under gruelling pressure to perform – emotionally, psychically, mentally, physically, sexually, and even hormonally.
(My menstrual cycle is still all over the place post birth and I’ve been giving myself a really hard time about it. When my period did finally arrive last week after 72 days, I rejoiced, and then completely ignored the fact that as women we need more sleep & nourishment at that time of the month.)
I finally opened my eyes at 8.50am. Feeling ashamed. Disappointed in myself. Still tired. Sad. Vulnerable. Ungrounded. Directionless. And tired. Did I mention tired?
Oh the shame. I’m the High Priestess. I don’t get to be tired. I shouldn’t ever feel these low vibrations. I’m the person people look to show them how to master life & business.
And in that moment, that moment of remembrance – the coming home to my authentic truth, I re-aligned, and I gave myself permission to feel the shame. Really feel it. And instead of becoming a victim to it, I chose instead to witness it – to watch what it was doing to my body, my energy, and my thoughts.
By altering my perspective into one of being the witness rather than the victim, I began to see the shame as something else entirely:
A cry for help. My little body simply needed to slow down and be heard.
She’s tired. She’s done a lot this last week. And she did it whilst bleeding, and whilst run down.
So sleeping until 8.50am wasn’t shameful. It was necessary.
And holding myself through the shame wasn’t indulgent, it was kind.
And sharing this with you now isn’t weakness, it’s permission.
️To feel shame.
️To become your own witness.
️To love yourself through these moments.
️And honour your needs.
There’s no such thing as shame. Only a refusal to love yourself. When we truly love ourselves, we don’t feel shame, or any other negative emotion. At least not for long.
And those moments, however brief or strung-out, are the necessary moments that complete the grand design of human life, for to be truly human, we must deeply feel, and experience contrast in all things, but especially in our emotions.
So the negative frequencies are necessary too. They just don’t need to be necessary for more than a moment. And nor is there any shame in that.
Until next time,
My love always