The winter solstice has come and gone without me sitting down to look at the intention of the past year (where I shifted “the start of the year” from New Year’s Day to the Winter Solstice. Something in me beckoned the solstice as the starting point.), the intention that read

For the next year, I want to integrate all parts of me, my intuition, my senses, my felt experiences, my intellect and rationality, all of me, learning to play the instrument that is me better, fuller, learning when to do more of intuition, when to go all in with my intellect and so on. This has me leaning in to all bits of me, and listen very carefully and closely.

Ask – Listen, to all parts of me – Act.

Now, a week after the winter solstice, is the time for me to reflect, having given myself a few days of rest and relaxation after a couple of hectic months.

Ask – Listen, to all parts of me – Act is an intention that has been with me throughout the year, very clearly. And also, not.
I’ve forgotten about it, now and again. Falling into patterns and beliefs that has me very much not listening.
At other times, it’s been in-my-face in a glaringly obvious way, totally impossible to ignore.

I am not done with this. I have a long way to go to truly listen and act.
There’s so more for me to unlearn, to deconstruct and reconstruct, to re-learn and learn.
But I am dropping deeper into it, much more a part of me today than before, to listen before acting and pick up on signals within. And during the process oriented therapy I do on a weekly basis, one sensation has been very present throughout the year, so present, in fact, that it’s presence is the intention for this new year, running from cusp to cusp of Winter Solstice (December 21st, 2021, at 16:58 CET until December 21st, 2022, at 22:47 CET).

Me in front of street art titled ‘God giving a fuck’ by Carolina Falkholt, on barricades covering road works between Nordstan, a big shopping center in the center of Gothenburg, and the Opera.It’s a physical sensation, a bubbling sensation stemming from the very root of me, as if a champagne bottle has been uncorked deep within the ground, bubbling up, through my yoni, the birth canal of life.

These bubbles tell me to Be alert. Observe. Notice. Respond. Act.
They tell me to Beware, sit with it, don’t re-act, sense into me, sense into life, there’s something of importance here. Heed it, be it in action or inaction.

It’s The Year of Bubbles.

A year to focus on the bubbles, on the life force coming through me, through my yoni. Life force comes through her like a laser beam. Focussed. Collected.

Which is not me shutting down or lowering the volume of all other part’s of me. No. On the contrary.
These bubbles sometimes arise when I am not heeding a particular part of me. Inform me to open up, to receive, let go of preconceived notions, step away from residing solely in my Intellect, urge me to scan all of me, all parts of me, all aspects, facets, characters within.

It’s like a door bell.
A clear signal, that I cannot ignore (even though I sometimes try).
The bubbles make themselves felt, experienced, heard.

Similar to feelings. They also act as bells, guiding me in the journey of life. Warning me when I am about to veer off-road, gently encouraging me when I am on track. But feelings can sometimes be easier to ignore. (At least for me.) I’ve learned to pick up on bodily signals. Back pains. The nerve-induced fluttering eyelid. Torticollis. I don’t always understand the message, but nowadays I notice.

Perhaps that’s why these bubbles feel so helpful to me.
A physical sensation hard to ignore, insisting that I pay attention.
That I stop, pause, get my bearings, listen to the message, pick up on what’s at the root of this calling.

The Year of Bubbles.
I vow to heed you and act accordingly.