Who holds? Tender share

Who holds the caregiver? Who helps the helper? Gabor Matés words about growth lives inside of me. Nature only grows in the tender and soft spots. In the opening. Then it makes so much sense with my "obsession" with nourishment. I can't just meditate into the silence and emptying out. I need nourishment. The calm voice in my guided meditation urge me to take what I need. I feel the colourful energy fills every chakra. With beauty. Soothing calmness and vitality. Harmonising.

Breathing exercises easily get too much for me. But Joe Dispenza guidance is good, at least the 7 first minutes. In the breathing, in the holding. Then I just need the calm, soothing music and myself.

Filled up. At peace. My cup is full. I feel recharge. For a few weeks I just gave myself this. Even when my head thought I didn't wanted it. But the urge was so strong and so clear. Nourishment. So needed. So deeply needed. And this week I'm with my teenagers and in my meditation they appears. They are both in their rooms but there presence are so felt in front of me. We need nourishment too. You are our safe ground. My root chakra is also their safe space. My womb still their home in so many ways. They are always in my heart and I love talking with them. My third eye and intuition are guiding me in their needs and my higher self always urge me to listen even deeper into what is alive.

Growth in all those tender places and spaces. So much healing and mending after years of pure survival. From survival to creation. The desperate need for nourishment and life gives it generously. So I breathe. I cry. I allow myself to just be in the expansion. Capacity. Room. Fullness. Overflowing. I walk slowly. I need so much sleep. But it's more energy. Less exhaustion. More vitality.

I feel held. By the ground beneath me. In the sweet moment of sunrise over the fjord. In the words of my favourite poem. By the smile from my customer. In the hug from my kid. Music always have space for my bigness. And I'm held by life itself. I choose to a bit naive. A bit child like. I choose to believe that something and someone loves me beyond my understanding. I can rest and breath now because I feel safe.

I hold your head

I hold your head

in my hands, like you hold

my heart in your tenderness

Like everything holds and are

held by something other than themselves

Like the sea lifts a stone

on to the beaches, as the tree

holds the fruits in autumn, such as

the globe is lifted through the planet’s room

Like this we both are being held of something

and lifted

till where enigma hold enigma in its hand.

– Stein Mehren, 1963 – (unauthorized translation by Petronella)..

( https://petronellas.wordpress.com/tag/stein-mehren/)