It was some three years ago. I developed a curious thing. At first it was funny. It started with a sense that my work desk was tipping forward on occasion. I just convinced myself in the end that it was. Then it was less funny. When the floor started to rock under me like a ship’s deck on choppy waves, I knew that something was wrong. The moment I started clutching tables to stay on my seat and walking full tilt into side furniture to stay ‘upright’, I declared enough.
I went to the doctors because that’s what people do and what I was told to do. I knew before I sat down that they had no answers for me. My ears were inspected and I was lined up for blood tests but I knew my bloods were fine. I was going to have to step out of my comfort zone to get back into my comfort and wellness zone. I was going to have to admit vulnerability. I was going to have to talk candidly to strangers. I was going to have to trust instinct. I was going to have to do something ‘unconventional’.
I was a lucky soul. I had someone around who could point me in the one direction in which I needed to head. A couple of weeks later and I met my first ever kinesiologist. I have a well defined cynicism and distaste for counsellors for my own reasons. I didn’t want a counsellor. And luckily, that’s exactly what I avoided. I had to answer to myself in these sessions, and for someone who can excel in circumlocution, that was a novel experience. No lies. No fakery. No smoke and mirrors. No saying what someone else wanted to hear. Just me and me to get this thing sorted.
In three sessions, I was done but a whole new world had been opened up. A world of empowerment that I loved. Where, instead of feeling like I lacked the tools to address all the bad coping mechanisms I’d adopted and adapted over the years, I knew I could fix anything. Anything?! Suddenly I got how people could get addicted to something like plastic surgery. Except this is to get the best out of you. No change, no addition, just whipping off the masks and debris to get back to the lightest, brightest you.
Three years on and I look after myself better. I even like myself more often. I do yoga and meditation. I let myself have faith, even when those I love don’t understand. I don’t require sanctions now. I’ve come to appreciate that I’ll never be perfect. I’m looking for ways to help people be okay in their own beautiful imperfections. I’m on a mission to thrive: independent, accountable to me first, compassionate and wholeheartedly happy.
I am grateful that, three years ago, I listened to the signs. Three years ago, I felt like I was on a ship in need of an anchor. But change is the only inevitability in life so I was set only for failure. So bit by bit, I learn flow. It’s about picking which waves to surf and which to dive under. It’s more about trusting where my sails will take me, if I pay attention to the conditions around me. Nowadays I just try to be a better ship.