All the time in the world…

There’s something to be said for having no idea where you’re going in life.

When you don’t know where you’re going, the journey is the point.

And when the journey is the point, you have all the time in the world.

To me, this is a thought that feels kind and soft.

When there’s no destination, there’s no pressure to get anywhere. No pressure to do anything. No pressure to be any particular way. A weight lifts and all my fears ease. Fear of judgement, fear of not being enough, fear of failing.

It’s so spacious, having all the time in the world. Time to stop and smell the roses. Time to be curious and follow that curiosity. Time to try things out just because they look fun. Time to wonder and delight. Time to share a story or two. Time to pick up feathers and stick them in your hair. Time to dream.

And… dreaming is where it begins. Dreaming is where curiosity is sparked. Dreaming is where questions are found, questions that demand answers. Dreaming is when I realise there ARE places I want to go in my life.

What if…? How does…? What might happen if I…? Could I…?

What if I started a business helping people navigate life changes, big and small, healing their hurts and creating unique and magical lives?

How does my nervous system work, and what might happen if I gave it what it needed to feel safe? What might happen if I felt safe enough to create the magic I dream of in my own life?

Could I write a novel? Could I have the kind of relationship that feels solid and dependable and exciting and fun? Could I travel Australia in a caravan? Could I build a house and plant a garden? Could I throw parties that people would come to and feel like they’d stepped into an alternate universe?

Could I make a difference? Make money? Make art? Make people’s lives better? Make the world a more curious place?

Could I get to the end of my life and know that I’d lived well?

Dreams are directions. And when I follow them, all that spaciousness shifts - from all the time in the world, I go to feeling like there’ll never be enough time and I’m always running out.

So the question then becomes how to hold both of these things - the spacious timelessness and the dream.

The journey and the destination.

Freedom to choose everything and letting go of that freedom when a choice is made.

I’m not really sure where the answer lies.

I suspect it lies in letting the dream guide me like the north star, and being open to however the journey wants to unfold. Letting go of attachment to when or how.

I suspect the answer lies in uncertainty and trust. In not knowing when or how I’ll get there, but trusting that I will, as I take each step that shows up in front of me.

I suspect the answer lies in remembering to savour the journey - to cultivate spaciousness like tending to a garden, and to stop and smell the roses, even though there’s now somewhere to get to and the clock is moving on.

It’s hard to stop and savour things when there’s a destination, when there’s a dream to realise.

It’s hard because of the trauma that the vast majority of us carry. Holding trauma doesn’t mean that anything’s wrong - it’s part of being human, and it explains a lot of the fears that come up when we try to follow the directions our dreams lay out for us.

It’s hard because trauma doesn’t like to stop, and it doesn’t like to savour. Trauma doesn’t care about the smell of roses. Trauma likes to get to places. Trauma likes certainty and knowing what’s going to happen next. Trauma says I’ll rest when I arrive, not knowing that arrival is not a concrete place.

For trauma, certainty = safety.

So if we can create enough safety in uncertainty, enough trust in the unknown, perhaps we can hold both - timelessness and the dream made real. Spaciousness and the path to walk to the places we want to go.

One way I know to create safety in uncertainty is through Somatic Experiencing - a beautiful way to help our nervous systems expand their capacity for all of life. It’s something I have regular sessions in personally, and probably will for the rest of my life, and it’s also something I’m trained to offer to clients.

For me, it’s felt like coming back to life - gradually, experiences that would have overwhelmed be have become manageable, and I have a pervasive feeling of wellbeing that I’d rarely experienced before. Most recently, I’ve discovered delight - which as you can imagine, I am finding delightful.

If you’re curious to find out more, send me a message and we can see if this might feel right for you right now.

Here’s to all of us finding spaciousness and ease on the paths to creating our weirdest, wildest dreams.