Wednesday, June 25, 2014

I Bought A Peacock


For the last several months, I have been in serious purging mode. ​I would imagine this is a common step for people once they emerge from the cancer cocoon and step into this thing called "the new normal."​ As I begin to gain more energy and vitality everyday, I ​better appreciate the the burden and hardship that my body went through as it struggled to heal​ during my year with cancer​. I also realize the mental and energetic toll that my psyche went through. On the positive, I felt real transformation and energetic release. On the negative, I felt like all that energy that had been released was now stuck​ in my home​.
So I ​tapped into my ​​toolbox ​of transformation, ​and I took action to transform my once cancer centric home into a new space that ​would set the stage for my best chance of stepping into my new normal​. ​
I tapped into my good ol' days of being a feng shui consultant and got to work. It took several weeks of purging, reorganizing​, ​a little bit of redecorating,​ and some serious sage burning,​ but I infused my home inside and out with more vitality​ (literally bringing in more fire element of reds and oranges)​, ​intention, clarity and freeing up more space -- lots and lots of space.
​T​he thing with empty space​ is, ​it can be uncomfortable. And I found myself wanting to fill it ASAP​ perusing online shopping websites looking for the perfect accessories to "fill it up​." But if there was anything I learned through my year with cancer is that if we can sit in the discomfort ​and invite a little surrender, ​the right thing​, person or circumstance​ will show up exactly when I need it. ​
​Sure enough, a few weeks later I was running some errands and stumbled upon this completely random store. It was next door to the pet store where I go all the time for my dog, but I never saw it. I was walking by and I noticed this metal peacock. It was big, heavy, bright and clunky. Not at all my aesthetic, but it literally stopped me in my tracks and I thought to myself, I have to have that. I tried to disregard because it really was pretty tacky. So I proceeded with my errands, but I couldn't get that peacock out of my head. Sure enough -- I went back to the store and I bought the peacock having no real idea where it would go. Technically it was described as yard art (I don't even really have a yard), but I recognized this deeper feeling of validation in my soul and have learned to listen to and takes its lead.
I've always been one for looking at the deeper meaning ​of things and objects​ so of course, the first thing I did before I bought the peacock was google its meaning. Evidently, ​in many ancient traditions, the peacock was thought to have the power of resurrection, symbolizing renewal and immortality​. It also is described as being a symbol of integrity and beauty if we endeavor to express and show our true colors. Hmm -- that seemed pretty spot on. It really was the ideal embodiment of where I was emotionally, physically and spiritually. So now, every time I pull up to my home or my dog pees on that peacock, I am reminded to let my true colors shine through and be kind to myself as I continue to reinvent my reality.
Needless to say, like most symbols, once we become aware, I began to see the peacock in everything. It was in a decorative pillow I bought months earlier. It was in clothing that I had never even noticed. ​It was featured in random art I began to take notice of. There were TV specials -- all about peacocks!
Instead of seeing these things as random, I'm choosing to embrace that these little signs, however silly or insignificant they may seem, as little "atta girls" from the universe reminding me that I'm never really alone. And that circumstances, people and random objects show up to remind us what we need to know in the moment.
And so as I continue to embrace that it's not about figuring out or doing anything specific to step into my new normal, but rather it is about embracing that I'm actually in it, I'm realizing I don't need the cancer or the treatments or the surgeries to take pause, appreciate, nurture and love. It's not about doing but rather being these things -- through and through. After all, we are human beings not human doings. Sometimes it just takes something like a tacky peacock to serve as the reminder.