Today marks eight years since I held my first coaching session at Taranaki Retreat. First session of three months volunteering that I had offered the organisation. Three months turned into six months, which is now eight years and counting…
I share this story sometimes to demonstrate what happens when we are courageous and take a next step even when we don’t have the full picture, or other times I share it to show the doors that can open when we start showing up for ourselves. Doors we may never have dreamt of or even known where a thing or could be possible.
But recently I have been reflecting on the anchoring nature of this decision to say yes after six months.
For so much of my life, my pattern was to move, to escape, to avoid – Move house, change jobs, travel, be on to the next thing and the next thing and the next.
Over time, I came to understand more about the pattern of moving house. As soon as life became uncomfortable, or I felt restless or unsettled, somewhere inside me was the belief that what I was looking for must be somewhere else. I needed to find the next place, the next opportunity, the next town, the next adventure, the next workshop, the next, the next, the next…
It wasn’t a conscious thought (struggling) + action (must move). I would often frame it up so well that I would fool myself! Freedom, courageous, exciting, open to change, doing life differently…
But now, I can see that much of it was flight mode. Underneath many of the decisions was a quiet subconscious belief or hope that if I could just get somewhere else, then maybe I would finally find what I was looking for.
Did I know what I was looking for? No.
I just knew that whatever it was was missing, and if I did have it, life would be easier/better/happier, more something.
What I never realised was that I was often pulling up my own roots before they really had a chance to take hold. Taranaki Retreat became something I never knew I needed – an anchor.
The old pattern would play out, something uncomfortable would start to come up, something that needed healing and I would start looking at options, places to live, thinking about where in the country I would go.
But the anchor kept me here.
Sure it was frustrating at times, okay, many times! But I stuck with it, stuck with the process, stuck with the healing.
I didn’t move house, well just once – to the house next door…
And through this not only did I take some chunky steps on my healing journey, more recently I got to find community.
Because when we do stay somewhere long enough, those roots have a chance to take hold and from that something has a chance to grow, to blossom.
Relationships deepen – not just friendships, but we find our favourite ‘third places’ – places that aren’t work and aren’t home but that we get a sense of belonging from – a favourite cafe, people at the gym, a book club, choir, dipping group.
The barista knows our order, a neighbour drops something over, we find our ways to contribute and help, be a part of.
We start to feel not just a wider sense of community, but also a more intimate sense of building a village.
We can start to see that we can be taking proactive steps to create that. Little connection by little connection we get to feel a sense of belonging. A feeling that can’t be rushed and can often take time, repetition, consistency, contribution.
Sometimes those anchors can be something we have chosen, something fun, something important to us, something we enjoy. Other times they may not be in our control, not in our choosing – dependents, responsibilities, pets, mortgage.
Responsibilities that can seem to tie us down and it can be easy to believe that these things are holding us back, but maybe they are actually simply holding us. Giving us a reason, to stay put, heal and the opportunity to build.
Of course, not every anchor is one we’re meant to hold onto forever, sometimes taking the next step is absolutely the most aligned action for us to take, may be the most truly courageous decision. But maybe sometimes that itchy feet feeling, angst, restlessness, is not that we should leave or move on, but something to be felt, acknowledged and responded to.
That the restlessness isn’t about getting on the road, metaphorically or literally, but a yearning for something more. For something that can be found when we take root, when we connect, when we show up, when we contribute, when we say yes to our life and our village.
I am all up for variety, exploring, trying new things, but it is a very different place making that happen from a grounded, anchored place, than from what I have done for years – from a flight mode-searching type place.
Sometimes the freedom that we have been searching for can only be found when we belong. That it’s not about changing the outside world, but about coming within and stopping long enough to create a sense of belonging from the inside-out.
A freedom found in becoming so deeply grounded within yourself that you no longer need to keep searching. You get to slow down, because little by little, you discover you are already home.
Alongside,
Liz
