The Pregnant Pause and the Birthing of Peace

As I reflect on these chaotic times, I find it difficult to unravel one single thread from the knot of current events. We have so much coming up to be healed: a pandemic, racism, political division—the list goes on. 

Yet despite massive changes, society is at an unprecedented standstill. Collectively, we are stuck in a pregnant pause, trying to remember who we used to be while preparing for who we may become. We’ve had to meet ourselves and others in new ways, with distances between us and smiles hidden from one another. 

And as we adjust to external changes, we feel internal shifts as well. There is an energy occurring on the planet that’s so powerful it must give birth to something. 

As a woman who has felt that push of labor, I know there is no fighting it. 

As a breathwork practitioner, I find it meaningful that the pandemic is all about breathing. Coronavirus affects the lungs, which are energetically where we hold grief. In the midst of this, the world watched George Floyd’s horrific last moments as he cried out “I can’t breathe!”

Now all of us are guarding our breath with masks. 

I believe that everything occurs as a message to us. We may not know the bigger picture at the moment, but we can reflect on the insights we are receiving on an individual level. 

For me, the message is that we are witnessing a rise in feminine energy. I’m not talking about gender; feminine energy is a part of all things. It’s our pain and suffering and our connection to Mother Earth. It manifests as matter in our world. 

When healthy feminine energy has been suppressed, it pushes back into being with rage, fire, and an almost adolescent energy. Racism is a very old energy that has been repressed, just like the feminine. 

How profoundly sad that as George Floyd was being murdered, he called out for his mother.

Author and psychologist Marion Woodman has spoken on the urgent need for the world to consciously embrace the feminine: 

“We can no longer say I am right and you are wrong,” she said. “It is the feminine principle that can bring a whole different thinking process to the patriarchy as we have known it…. Instead of breaking things off into parts, it would say, ‘where are we alike? How can we connect? Where is the love? Can you listen to me? Can you really hear what I am saying? Can you see me? Do you care whether you see me or not?’… What I’m talking about here is presence and relatedness.” 

I would add vulnerability to that. We have a fear of meeting our humanness, but if we want to live life on its terms and stay grounded in the process, we need to remain vulnerable. 

Vulnerability doesn’t mean being passive. It means facing your fear and following your heart. I call it moving from your center. 

For some of us, vulnerability may take the form of protesting the death of George Floyd. For others, it means to go within and meditate. However you feel your vulnerability, let it begin with your breath. The breath brings matter and spirit together.

We can’t let George Floyd’s last words—I can’t breathe—become acceptable. A new way of being is gestating, one that can bring peace if we can only remain present and connected to each other.