The Field
Urgency is not truth.
When someone or something starts a sudden timer, it is not reality that is speaking.
I used to move toward pressure the way water moves downhill — without deciding.
I thought I was being good. I thought love filled gaps.
I came by my responsiveness so honestly.
If you close your eyes when you sense this pull you can feel it. Tentacles up your throat. Suction in your lower belly.
Through this rhythm I became the water in someone else’s well.
The pressure is an attempt at extraction.
But there is another door I have found.
I enter the moment I feel the clock start.
There is a place in the body below the mind, older than mental choosing, that generates.
Not for anyone. Not in answer to anything.
It simply — wells.
Stay there long enough and the noise of pressure passes through like wind in an open window.
One gust, and then white space.
And nothing essential has moved.
The source of the thing I was always running to provide to other —
it was here. It was always here.
Funny enough it was always just for me.
I am learning what it is to be thirsty for myself.
I write primarily to support my small business, christinaelaine.com
I am a somatic coach, writer, and curriculum creator writing about the interior life of modern relating, weekly on Medium & Substack. I also host interviews on YouTube.