Panic at the Disco

Did you know there is a background frequency that’s always playing, subconsciously influencing every decision you make, outcome you experience, and your overall level of wellbeing?

The other day I was tuning into my physical health and feeling frustrated by the amount of effort I put into it vs the progress I feel I’m making. Yes, I did my version of the 75 hard, am still doing it, and I dropped some weight—which, funnily enough, was truly the least impactful thing on my list of issues when it comes to my day-to-day.

Yes, it feels good to have taken off a little more of the insulation I’d put on over the years.

No, it did not make all of my other issues magically disappear.

• I’m still not sleeping as deeply and waking as rejuvenated as I would like.

• My ears are still ringing—not nearly as badly as they were before, thankfully, but it definitely takes a toll.

• My digestion is meh.

• I’m not making any more gains when it comes to adjusting to the 8,000 feet of altitude at which I live.

So on and so forth.

Most of my efforts have been directed at the ear ringing. I can get it to go away and then it comes back. It’s quieter, but lasts longer. It goes away. It comes back.

I was focused on it again just a few days ago when I was intuitively directed to make an all encompassing list of every physical complaint I had. It included all of the above plus a few more.

Once I compiled the list, my intuition asked, “What’s the common thread that holds them all in place?”

I heard the answer immediately.

Panic.

When you hear the truth and you know it to be true, it tends to reverberate throughout your body, as though every cell is exclaiming in unison, “YES, that’s IT!”

Panic has been the frequency running in the background of my life, the soundtrack to my movie, ever since I was 2 years old.

The awarenesses came hard and fast.

The sleepless nights.

The gasping for breath, never feeling like I could get enough air.

The hurried ways in which I pushed through my life, always thinking that I would somehow be ok if I could just make it through whatever was in front of me and onto the next thing.

It’s almost funny to think about, that tennis before and pickleball now have been such mirrors for me and the way I’ve lived up to this point—and also the greatest reminders that my physical health isn’t where it could be.

I take more steps than others. I’m always more out of breath than anyone else. Looking around, thinking to myself, why doesn’t anyone else look like they’re about to die?

I’m rushing. I’m forcing. It almost feels like my intentions are being hijacked.

What a metaphor for life sports and the way we play them can be.

Panic has hijacked my intentions.

I’ve done a lot to turn down the volume of its influence over the years, but nonetheless, it is still there—doing its best to convince me that I’m not safe. That I’m not ok. That I must always be on high alert.

But does it have to be this way?

I don’t believe it does.

Sometimes, you can simply reclaim your power without identifying the specifics of where, when, and how you lost it.

Sometimes, it takes bringing what’s been lying just below the surface up to conscious awareness.

And that opens the door to moving forward differently.

To changing the composition of your soundtrack.

Years ago when Borders, the bookstore, was closing down, I remember picking up a book called The Discovery of Witches. Witches, vampires, and daemons. I rolled my eyes, put it down, and continued perusing.

Next I knew, the book was back in my hands.

This happened more than once. I took it as a sign and bought the book. It’s part of a trilogy that’s since been turned into a very well done television series.

In the TV version, they did an amazing job at depicting what it looked like when Diana Bishop, witch and main character, wove together threads of light to tie the knots and cast her spells, while untying the knots of spells cast against her.

I’ve returned to this visual many times throughout the years and found myself here once again.

Pulling at the loose threads to disrupt the frequency of panic.

Weaving threads of joy together in its place.

Teasing apart the items on my list from the glue that had been holding them together.

I played pickleball yesterday for the first time since. My movements were calmer, less frantic and chaotic. I was able to be more intentional. It was easier to breathe.

It gave me hope.

I know that I’m made for more than the level at which I’ve been creating my life and I’m excited to see what that will look like.

But I’m not in a rush.

I will keep following my intuition, standing in my power, and loving myself. All while Joy freely plays in the background.

Who knows? I may even give alternate nostril breathing another try.

Maybe you would like to make your own list?

What challenges have you been trying to face individually, physical or otherwise, that are actually being held together by a common thread?

What frequency is influencing the soundtrack of your life?

Would you like to do something about that?

I would love to hear your thoughts and reflections, please post in the comments! And, if you enjoyed this blog, please give it a heart and share it with your friends.

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Thank you again, Sally, for sending me this sweet message, seen on a hostel window somewhere along the Camino de Santiago in Northern Spain.