Often, if we’ve have been walking alone for some time, we may suddenly see someone also walking their path, who may appear more certain in their stride than we. So, we find ourselves trying to catch up and join them, because we’re struggling to trust ourselves and we’d rather walk wherever you’re going and get there, than stay here and get lost on our own.
Yes, we can catch up and walk together for a while, but the only time the path feels like our own, is when it is. But how do you know?
There's an art to trusting your own compass and setting your own course.
We’re all fellow travellers. Then there’s people like Orly Avineri. She is a guide.
This was my second workshop with Orly. The theme of this workshop was hollow spaces.
In my last post, I wrote of the hollow girl I see when I revisit an earlier time in my life. I wrote that it still hurts to remember her. I wrote about how I’ve come to understand why, but that it still packs an emotional punch. Enough sometimes to make me cry.
What I didn’t write, because it’s what I hadn't yet reconciled, is my relationship NOW with that hollow girl. As if some kind of ghost, she has continued to haunt me.
I realise I've been afraid of her. Afraid she will return.
All hollow places are, by nature, functional. The trick is to understand their purpose.
Orly spoke at her workshop of what she meant by hollow spaces. Her view is that a hollow space is one where life is accommodated and facilitated. The nests, the vessels, the wombs. The nooks and crannies that house aliveness. I hadn’t thought about it that way. I think I have continued to identify and associate hollow spaces with emptiness, bereavement, loss.
The irony is that it was out of that hollow space that my yearning to feel alive surfaced. After this weekend, I understand now that my hollow space contained a gift. It’s where THIS life, the ME I am today, was housed.
My hollowness was a gestation, a pregnancy, my creative life waiting to be birthed.
In that post, I shared also that a fundamental part of my recovery process was the practice of noticing what made me come alive and seeking out these experiences. I did that instinctually, this blows my mind!
Just as the acorn contains the blueprint for the oak it will become, emptiness contains the blueprint for fullness.
That’s why it hurt. Because deep down, I knew exactly, the me I was failing to be. My hollow space contained the blueprint for the life I was meant to live.
By the end of these three soul stirring days, I had come to change my definition of hollow from something empty to something hallowed. Today I sit here re-aligned. My compass calibrated and my spirit inspired to set off down the path again. I have a new understanding of where I began and why.
Once again, Orly has worked her magic.
She led me back to my hollow space and allowed me to understand it,
not as an abyss, but as a dwelling.
Buíochas Orly, thank you.
So, fellow traveller, let me ask you this…. What is the blueprint in your hollow space?
You can read the full poem here. Sweet Darkness by David Whyte