Stagnation isn’t always a bad thing

Not long after a giving a psychic reading with themes of fruit, decay and seeds, and just a couple hours after sending out the last newsletter, I was walking in Prospect Park following a night of rain. After a long summer drought we had finally gotten some real precipitation a few days in the week. The park had a strong, damp smell; and thick, warm air rising off the ground. Tall flowers and reeds were arcing down towards the ground, top heavy and still wet.

All around me were themes of stagnation. Ripeness and decay side by side. The seed and rotting leaves. Moss and mushrooms growing out of falling limbs and logs that were only inhabited by insects just a few days earlier. The Blue Herons were out in force gliding along the water easefully.

We might use (indeed I often use!) the expression of “not letting something die on the vine.” But rotting fruit is a potent and nurturing environment for the seed. It falls cocooned in its own little womb. The plant having pumped every last bit of vital nourishment into it, falling only when the decay has loosened its grip. Aside from being eaten and expelled, this is the best way to set it up for success, placed gently onto the ground by its own stem.

As I walked I saw so many examples of this cycle, decay and growth side by side. The beautiful and the grotesque. The distinction depends on what you consider nutrient. For the trees, we provide a vital gas that allows them to literally make food out of air and sun; an abundance of this same gas will kill us. Stagnation is in the eye of the beholder too. 

How many times has a period of tremendous stagnation, feeling hopelessly stuck, lost, and adrift preceded a profound and massive change?  When you search for the pivot points in your life, did they have a gradual and steady change upwards and onwards— excelsior for your whole life up to that moment? Or did the pivot actually develop from contrast, from its opposite?
In many of my recent meditations I have found myself contemplating these themes of what is this distinction of life, death, life? How often is a death really a death? How often does life not require sacrifice and letting go of things we think we need, in order to grow?

This resonates with my feelings towards Energywork and the idea of blocks. Many of you know I don’t really believe in “blocks” as a term. The phenomena exists but I usually say stagnation, and from the perspective that stagnation develops for a reason, a positive purpose. It remains stagnant until it is ready to move. We move it with compassion and courage, not with resentment or shame. Love is one of the frequencies that moves energy, along with a counterpart I might describe as rage. I received a message from one of my guides recently about “divine rage” and she said that we call it rage because we typically access it in association with that emotion and experience, but it is a universal frequency of creation and destruction. When channeled in effectively it becomes a dynamic source of alchemy within us. When we direct it poorly it drains our energy. If we can separate the emotion and content from the energy, we too become the plant which transforms “waste” into new life.

What stagnation within you has the potential to be generative, to transform? 

How do you know when it is “ready?” 

Where are you still working with that energy in its heavy form and how can you tell what is the most effective use of it? 

Are there places that you can accept “yes, I’m actually not ready. This isn’t done yet”?

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