comfortably numb

The beginning of the year always arrives with a certain noise. Expectations, resolutions, invisible lists of what should already be happening. And here I am. In my bear mode. Not sleeping, but not ready to leave the cave either.

This state of comfortably numb (thank you, Pink Floyd) is not escape — it is self-regulation. A time of conscious pause, where the organism slows down in order to integrate.

Comfortably numb as a soft buffer between who I was and who I am still becoming. A place where I can be still without guilt. Where I'm not producing, not deciding, not moving forward — and still practicing being comfortable here. Without judging myself. Without rushing. Without feeling like I'm failing for not doing something. 

Comfortable even with failure. With dreams that became distorted, mixed with the harsh wind of everyday reality. With what didn't go as imagined. With what had to die to make room for something else — even if I don't yet know what that is.

This is a time for clearing out. Time to open inner drawers that have been closed for months, perhaps years. To gently touch what still lives in me but already belongs to the past. To do, as one of my clients said the other day, an internal declutter — not to throw everything away, but to understand what still needs to be felt, named, cried, breathed.

To be in silence — even when everything around is noise.
To allow the encounter to arise: me, with myself.

In Gestalt, we trust organismic self-regulation. The bear leaves the cave when it's time — not when the calendar says so.

For now, I stay. Feeling. Breathing. Forcing nothing. Listening to myself and respecting my "slow awakening." 

Creating space within me for what comes next. That, too, is movement.