Notice the Bubbles

That thing that keeps bubbling to the surface of your knowing?

It’s probably a good idea to pay attention to it.

Sometimes I'm aware of a background kind of knowing. Accompanying it is a soft sense that whatever the knowing is, it would be good for me. Then I promptly go about either resisting or ignoring it. Every. Single. Time.

That's an odd reaction to a personal knowing. Maybe it's a habit from who knows when, maybe I don't trust myself, or maybe it's just plain normal because now that I think about it, the knowings I resist are usually things I perceive as difficult. Like a conversation I've been putting off, a habit that needs tending to, a question I need to be asking.

Luckily the same knowings bubble up every so often, so I have many chances to pay attention. It also means I have become pretty skilled at pushing things aside—I've had lots of chances to do that too.

Here's what seems like an easy example but wasn't: biking. It bubbled every so often over several years. Sometimes it was an idea to ride my bike somewhere instead of drive. I drove. Or when my husband was cleaning out the garage and keeping my 30-year-old bike came into question. "Yes, I want Big Blue!" My bike had a name, and I wasn't riding it?

I tried other things instead, like hiking and jogging, all while coming up with a lengthy list of reasons why not to bike. Changing my clothes before and after would be annoying. I'm not a real biker (whatever that means). That time I free-fell from my bike into the woods when I was a teenager.

It's super helpful to resist something if you have any number of logical reasons. It only takes one.

To my credit, I did try biking a few times, but it didn't last. And yet, it kept bubbling.

The bike bubbling started before I became aware that I wasn't really living in my body. As I became more aware and comfortable in said body, biking occasionally resurfaced and eventually I tried again—on something like the 503rd bubble. Then through a period of stopping and starting, at some point it just clicked.

I'm working on trusting those quiet knowings more. The first step is not ignoring—turning towards instead of away from. Sure it sounds simple, but put into action takes practice. It's kind of like going to the shed, which I learned about thanks to an Oliver Burkman newsletter and the book Time Surfing by Paul Loomans. The idea is this: if you have something undesirable that you need to do, first just be with it. So if you need to deal with a shed full of stuff, go into the shed and have a look around. "Observe and take stock," says Loomans. I imagine myself taking a seat on stuff in the shed, because I would absolutely need to rest after making that oh-so-big leap into awareness. Then you leave without doing anything.

Why did the bike thing keep bubbling? I don't know. The bubbles do seem to catch the light just right though, marking a path forward, even with stops and starts.