It’s Transition Season in the cosmos.
There’s no avoiding it—I’m certain you’re feeling it. You can cover your head and endure, and you can look around and ease the journey by essentially taking the rocks out of the river you’re travelling upon. Conscious and intentional focus on the very nature of your “upset” or transition will shift your shift into a pleasurable, exciting, happy, anticipatory thrill ride.
I know of no better way to turn your obstacles into beautiful and inviting doorways than the collective intuitive process of Family Constellations.
Transitions are turns, curves, reversals, switchbacks, stalls, changeups and obstacles. Regardless of how long we have begged for something new, craved improvement and advancement, yearned for a sweeter, better place in our lives, we can’t quite stop ourselves from resisting the change that brings it.
We struggle with the discomfort of shifting equilibrium.
We’re pretty sure we’re having “issues” because, well, we are feeling upset. We call the movement we’re in a “problem.” Or, when we’re really uncomfortable with the pace or vibration of the shift, we call it an “obstacle.”
My favorite poet, Mark Nepo, often reiterates one of his rules for living: “The obstacle is the way.”
It doesn’t matter if we’re experiencing our best movements and our sweetest vibrational upgrades as a problem, an obstacle, an issue or a stuck place. The Universe doesn’t really hold it against us if we’re human about it. We are so completely beloved, and our humanity so completely expected, that the Universe simply chuckles (about how hard we’re making it) and continues with the agenda of what we’ve clearly asked for: something better, something more, something useful to the world and to our souls.
Family Constellations reveals your obstacles as doorways--your problems as benefactors—and moves you quickly, sweetly, easily through the curves, the rapids, and yes, even through the switchbacks.
The Pacific Northwest has a thousand rivers to raft. If you set out to raft even a dozen of them you will learn everything you need to know about life as a human.
Two of my Washington favorites are the Yakima River and the Skykomish River.
The Yakima is a slow, lazy, easy “old people’s” float where you lash your raft to the rafts of the ones you love, load up your cooler full of shareable snacks, make sure you’ve got a ride waiting for you at the other end and set out in the sunshine. Sure, the water’s a little cold if you go early in the season, and the current’s a teensy bit swift when you get out at “Pee Island,” but all in all it’s a sweet float.
The Skykomish legally requires a helmet. She’s a rocky bitch. You need a wetsuit and a serious safety awareness lecture that you do not want to ignore before you begin. But, Oh the ride. The challenge, the exhilaration, the sense of having beaten something scary into submission is a huge adrenaline rush and a boost to the rocket fuel of your personal power.
It doesn’t matter which river you choose—or which river chooses you--it doesn’t matter if your current transition is a Yakima float (where even that current at Pee Island can feel pretty scary—I broke my toe there one year) or a Skykomish thrashing (my friend Frank nearly drowned me in that river when he fell out of the boat on top of me and didn’t realize I was under him—under water. I was literally between a rock and hard place).
What matters is that you remember that’s its normal, make sure you’re appropriately prepared with either a helmet or a tomato and cheese sandwich and make the float as free and clear as you can get it.
It’s Transition season in the cosmic and planetary flow. You have some choice over how you’ll paddle and who you’ll take with you to help you drag in the boats at the stops, but either way, it’s a helluva fun ride--especially if your eyes are open.