To enjoy our senses (taste, touch, hearing, seeing, smell), we need some quiet space. That space is the space inside of us. The clearer it is, the more we can understand the language of our senses. To have it be clear, we need to give ourselves time, time for quietness and to simply be. Our senses need our attention so we can enjoy the gifts that they so readily offer. And we tune into the information they give us on what is right for us in the moment. As we enter into relationship with our senses, our lives are uplifted, our energy restored, and our spirits healed.
When was the last time you smelled the freshness of a lemon, noticed the feeling of water running through your fingers and toes, allowed your tongue to revel in the taste of your favourite fruit (mango is one of mine!), listened to the simple sound of wind chimes, or let your eyes rest on the beauty and softness of a flower petal?
It is the resting in these moments that brings them alive. Something awakens in us so we may feel our connection to the beauty around. To connect with oneness, we must allow ourselves to feel instead of creating barriers. The acts of pausing and noticing enrich our path.
Whether there are tears or bliss or wonder, I find my senses transporting me to a different place. In that place I remember who I am. I delight in the moment and the gifts all around me. I rejoice in my abundance. My healing comes to take care of that which I may have lost or left behind in my busyness or in the twists and turns of life. If the tears come, I know they are cleansing ones, helping me see better, and reminding me to care deeply for life.
To become sensitive to my senses, I must enter their space gently. I must quiet myself to receive their gifts. I take a breath, pause, look or listen. With music, I allow the first few sounds to arrive, letting their vibrations wash through me, becoming one with the music. I move with love and care, allowing my movement to caress me.
I knowingly left this place for what has been quite a while, afraid of feeling, afraid of remembering that I had desired something which did not appear on that occasion, afraid of being in the murkiness. It felt too potent. And what if I fell apart and couldn’t be put back together?
I have been reminded, when we come across a long (or recently) forgotten pain, it’s ok, it’s simply waiting to be softly embraced and brought into wholeness with us.
It is time for me to dive down, to feel, to know, so I may be refreshed and stronger and willing to pursue and live my real dreams of a wildly beautiful life.
I know I must return to this place more often. It is my Eden, my Heaven. I must also remember that it needs space all around it to be felt, sensed, and experienced. It makes everything right. And from that place, I can step forward knowing that I am coming from Truth.
