Heeding Your Inner Compass

After a very long silence on this coach blog adventure, I suddenly feel called to write. It was a weekend full of people, while simultaneously trapped in mental perception and judgment. 

Why am I not doing more?
Why am I so disinterested in participating?
What's wrong with me? 

Confident that my fluctuating hormones were at play, I still couldn't shake the desire to address my nagging concerns. Finally, in a conversation with a friend -- in true extrovert style -- the depth of my resistance sunk in: 

I've created a lose-lose -- damned if I do, same if I don't. I've done this, I realize: I've led kids in the wilds, guiding them, teaching them, putting up with their sh%t, enjoying their quirks, their growth, their laughter, fears, revelations. I've packed trips, taught first aid, organized, resisted resistance, and absorbed it. I've learned knots and taught classes and built fires -- and all of that with an age group that lights me up. 

Do I need to do it again with an age group that doesn't?!

I've worked so hard to learn to relax (oh, the irony). I've come so far to be able to be OK doing less, and even close to nothing. Why, then, do I beat up on myself for sinking into the Tamara that I've wanted and created, simply because I think there are things I should do and be?

Old patterns?
Perhaps. And likely. 

Sadness that I lived 'that life' before Kaya gets a chance to experience that part of me?
Partly. And yes, that. 

Because I feel some regret, some angst, and settling into the lifestyle that I used to judge so harshly?
Yes. This, for sure. 

I hang out with people with RVs and trailers and campers. I have a camping mattress that's huge and amazing. I buy new gear sometimes that does more than I use it for and does little to respect the planet. I avoid backpacking trips because I fear headaches. I have gear that I don't use, to not explore the wilds that I miss. I pressure myself to go at times, but sometimes, I just want to be home. Sometimes, I feel trepidation. And sometimes, I just want the easy life. 

Is the easy life so bad?

Do we judge ourselves because we're soft, or slow, or however we now are which is different from how and who we were?
Should we live the life we think we should simply because we used to, or because we used to judge those who didn't?

Clearly not. But my ego sometimes says we should. 
And this seems like the question:

How do we live the simpler, slower, relaxed life we're wanting while avoiding the judgment from our past selves and old patterns?

The old Tamara would have searched outside herself. 
There were no answers within -- at least she couldn't hear them. 

Be. Here. Now. 
Your body knows.

But this is what I now hear when I wait and listen. My inner compass.
Loud enough to hear, now that I've slowed down enough to listen.

I don't have to be all that.
I can be this. And that's enough. 

Because after all, it's what I've worked towards.
And now that I'm here, I really want to enjoy it. 


What is your compass telling you?
Would love to hear in the comments below!