Shifting through the mud

Mud is dirty, icky, and gleefully squishy.

“I give myself permission to walk through the mud.”

That was the first of (approximately) one trillion insights offered to me during tonight’s Wholly Shift session, and it immediately resonated.

I would rather not get dirty. I take pride in keeping clean. However, dirty is part of the deal when I choose to grow and transform (or simply stay alive), and so instead of avoiding the mud, I might as well walk through it.

Sure, mud is messy, but I’ll get to a river or shower soon enough, or it’ll dry up and dust away. However it happens, the dirty never stays.

The clean doesn’t either, of course, which was another lesson the universe wanted to teach tonight. Just like washing our hair—the cycle of fresh and clean, to greasy limp, to wet and clean again—life is a flow. I might as well go with it.

And I don’t have to flow alone. Mud walking is slow going–it’s slippery, and requires awareness and careful attention. (Not unlike walking through snow.) Sometimes it’s yuck, yuck, yuck.

But it’s also affirming. Because when you’re walking in mud, you KNOW it. There’s no mistaking the terrain for smooth sidewalks or grassy meadows. Every squishy step is invigorating in its own way–there’s no doubting you are dirty and ALIVE.

Some people think mud is bad, and that’s okay. I don’t have to hang out with them, and I don’t have to feel bad either. Because I’m dynamically supported, I can holler, “Hey! I’m in the mud!” and be assured I’m in good company.

“When you’re in the mud, you can be experiencing the mud, and at the same time you can experience yourself being with yourself in the mud.”

That’s something Laura said near the end of our session, and it sums up one of the many ways I’m shifting. I can trust that it’s okay to get dirty, but with compassion, I don’t have to get stuck.