Saying goodbye to ready myself for the new
We cannot bring our old selves into the new paradigm.
I’ve been hearing this everywhere.
As my Reiki teacher Kristen Eykel said, “The old model cannot hold the new experience.”
As my mentor Michelle Chalfant said, “You can’t take the old you.”
Michelle’s advice: when stuff comes up, or we feel anxiety, it’s a chance to notice and tell ourselves, “Oh, that’s the old me.” Then we get comfortable with the uncomfortable and whatever it is bringing up. Through practices like parts work, we get to the root.
How am I practicing this:
Trusting
Allowing
Questioning everything
This morning I sat in silent meditation for 20 minutes.
Immediately, thoughts arose, “What’s the point of this again? Aren’t you at least going to open the Reiki channel and do self Reiki? What about some music? Okay, fine, let’s do some deep breathing then.”
As those thoughts pinged in my mind, I observed them, and I sat. Not with urgency; with patience. Soon, my attention dropped to my chest. I felt a heavy cloud move quickly just inside my rib cage. It was uncomfortable. I realized I’ve been avoiding something that needs to be seen. Even years into this work, I overintellectualize and keep myself safe from the hard stuff, like parts that need my attention.
Still in meditation, I asked, “Do you have something to share?”
“I was trying to get out of the way, I hoped you wouldn’t notice me,” I heard.
“And who are you?” I asked.
It took a minute to answer, but as the dark cloud morphed into a magic carpet, a small man appeared in my mind’s eye.
“I am self-doubt. I am busy keeping you small. I don’t want you to see me,” he replied.
“Are you my self-doubt?” I asked. I relayed some facts about myself: I’m 45 years old, I’m a woman, a wife, a mother. I know that self-doubt is something I’m here to work through. It has been an ongoing journey.
“Well, I’m not sure,” he resigned.
“Can you come out and talk to me?” I asked.
He agreed, and I moved my hand to my chest and imagined plucking him out from behind my ribs. He looked right at me with a snide smirk, friendly but sinister. Some of his magic carpet pooled underneath his feet. A lot of it was still connected to me in imaginary dark cords.
“Don’t you want your whole carpet?” I asked.
“Yes, but what will you do without me?” he replied.
“I am from the light and of the light. I don’t need your self-doubt,” I told him.
I ran my hand over my chest and abdomen and imagined it was a magnet and any and all self-doubt was attaching to it. I then handed him the pieces for him to build a beautiful magic carpet.
“Where will you go?” I asked.
“Far, far away,” he sounded excited.
I watched him venture off. I felt a bit nervous about what that means. Strange to wonder if I’ll miss someone I just met. Someone who told me they were there to keep me small. What will it mean to not have him working in the background?
My chest felt hollow. I invited the light from Mother Earth’s core below and source above to enter through my feet and crown. I breathed softly as the light converged in my chest, filling in the gaps. I enjoyed this light and inner warmth for a few minutes before the timer went off.
Later, I wondered, do I still have self-doubt? Was it that easy? Even now, hours later, I feel light. I feel clear and confident about a presentation I’m doing tomorrow. I feel open and connected. I took a few steps to connect with people today. It felt right.
Will I have a self-doubting thought again? I’m sure. And that’s okay.
If I do, I know to trust, allow, and question everything. For it is the old parts, like that self-doubt, that will not go with me into the future.
Rebecca Fellenbaum is a certified somatic life coach, Reiki practitioner, intuitive guide, writer, and Cleveland, Ohio-based mom. She helps women who have “made it” on the outside feel great about themselves on the inside so they can find joy in their lives, kids, and families. Get her free guide: Slowing Down: 9 Steps to Live With Intention to start meaning it when you say you’re doing fine.
