The life-changing lesson of a flat tyre in Tibet
Accepting inconsistency, not forcing it + the magic of effortless action
Nothing ignites the fire of my inner critic more than my inability to turn on my creative tap at will.
And this past week has been particularly void of creative output, so she’s been raging like wildfire!
Whenever I’ve sat down to write, a flurry of notes and ideas flow onto the page yet I feel almost incapable of wrestling them into sentences that make sense for anyone else.
After a few minutes of staring blankly at the screen, the militant, productivity-obsessed part of me makes its outraged self known right in the space between my eyebrows.
Her frustration, irritability and impatience paralyses my creative spirit. So the blank staring continues and the frustration gets more acute.
It’s a taxing cycle that reminds me of school and corporate work; the expectation to consistently perform every day.
Everywhere I look these days is someone proclaiming how consistent action is the key to yielding the desired result; As if it’s essential for success.
It’s not that I disagree, it just feels so at odds with how I experience my unpredictable and contrary self.
Consistency seems contradictory to human nature, yet the ego thrives on it!
Oh how my ego HATES inconsistency
I’ve learned during these past few years of ‘unlearning’ just how inconsistent I am; Much to the frustration of my aggrieved ego parts.
Every day brings new emotions and expressions. My physical energy and mental clarity shift like the tides.
Speaking from my experience as a woman, I have become acutely tuned in to my cyclical patterns. I’ve also come to accept they change too.
A year ago I would be bouncing off the walls with energy during my follicular phase and now it’s the opposite!
Change is the only constant in life and one that I am continually trying harder to accept.
Last week I set several arbitrary goals to accomplish. On Monday I felt motivated and enthused to add them to my to-do list. By Wednesday I was staring at the list in dismay. By Friday dismay had evolved to distain.
FYI I was in my follicular phase. It’s now Saturday and my energy levels have crept back enough for me to tick one task off the list; writing this newsletter. God help me if I hadn’t!
If there was one part of me that has evaded the ‘work’ these past few years, it is the part of me wired for productivity, accomplishment and the incessant need to be doing.
This part of me holds on with dear life as other parts relish the opportunity to let go and free fall into the bliss of the unknown.
What I am trying to teach this up-tight part of my insecure ego is that nothing good ever came from forcing it.
Forced conversation, forced affection and forced fun, yield little more than resentment. Whilst forcing yourself into shoes that don’t fit, jeans that are too tight or those Spanx I told you about last week, produces pain and shame.
Forcing myself to write when I didn’t have the energy would have produced incomprehensible word vomit (which I hope this isn’t!).
A lesson in using less force
My Qi Gong teacher, Mimi Kuo Deemer shares this story in her book, Xiu Yang:
She was travelling in the remote region of Tibet when the Land Rover she was in got a flat type; The spare hadn’t been removed for some time and the bolts were tight and rusty. Concerned that it was getting dark, the driver and other passengers attempted to use their strength and might to force the rusty wheel bolts loose. After some time and to no avail some nomads who had been watching them approached and offered to help. One young nomad carefully “set to work quietly”, shifting his weight and gently repositioning the wrench until the bolt eased loose. He knew to use just the right amount of effort necessary for the task.
Mimi’s story perfectly illustrates the difference between trying to force something with the energy of frustration or desperation versus using calm, soft intentions.
I think about this story whenever I feel resistance or compulsion to force something to happen.
Whether removing the lid of a pickle jar, sitting down to write, trying to handstand or finding myself frustrated in relationships, finding a sense of ease and softness usually results in the most appropriate and supportive response.
From the teachings of the Dao, this approach is Wu Wei: effortless action.
It’s become such a mantra in my life, I tell everyone I can about how these two simple words change everything.
They diffuse arguments, create space for compassion to surface, and save many a broken fingernail from trying to break the seal on boxes without a knife.
Learning to embody Wu Wei has given me a new tool in my arsenal.
Whether I sense myself tightening or contracting over something I can’t control, I take a breath and say “Wu Wei”.
Whenever I recognise my inner critic light up I whisper “Wu Wei” and she softens.
You can see Wu Wei everywhere in nature. Look for the birds gliding in the air streams, the rivers carving their way through the countryside and the forest trees negotiating space to grow amongst each other.
Notice how everything seems to just happen. Easefully and without resistance.
That’s what I aspire to.
And on that note, I’m heading into the mountains today. I’ll be untethered from Wi-Fi for the next week or so which might mean no newsletter next week. We’ll see. Either way, I won’t force it ;)
Until next time. Let's live, one breath at a time.
Farah x
Wu Wei all the way! It’s so easy to get caught up in producing and producing 😨