One of my first chores in the morning is feeding the birds. After setting out their food, I pause for a quiet moment, watching as the sun rises and the birds begin their morning routine. The big, fat squirrels feast for hours while the birds wait their turn. I marvel at how each type of bird perches high above, planning its flight path, swooping in for a seed or corn kernel before zipping away.
Sometimes, a skirmish breaks out—a quick peck to establish dominance. Other times, an unseen force startles the entire group, sending them darting away to seek higher ground and safety.
At first glance, it all appears calm and systematic—like a dance. Yet beneath it, there’s an ever-present undercurrent of survival, a constant state of high alert.
Isn’t that what we humans do, too? We balance between calm and survival mode, seeking safety in our inner center until an outside flashpoint sends us into fight, flight, freeze, or fawn. (As I type this with one eye on the feeding flow, a huge crow swoops overhead, startling everyone into a frenzy. Instinctively, I fling open the door like a wild woman and shout into the morning air, asking if they’re letting the birds eat too!)
A few hours after writing the above, a devastating air collision occurred, claiming the lives of all on board. It’s heartbreaking. So much is happening in the world that is difficult to comprehend.
I wish for the collective to recognize the cycle of survival mode and the toll it takes. These are signs you may be living in constant survival mode:
- Are you neglecting or forgetting to take care of your basic needs?
- Are you feeling unusually exhausted, even after simple tasks?
- Are you struggling to regulate your emotions? Do your usual coping techniques feel ineffective?
- Are you experiencing memory issues or forgetfulness?
- Are you finding it difficult to multitask, needing to hyper-focus on just one thing at a time?
I have been experiencing many of these myself. The only way I can reset in the moment is to breathe—deeply in through my nose, out through my mouth—and then exhale while envisioning a white-blue protective bubble surrounding me. I call upon Archangel Michael for protection and comfort.
If you need support, please reach out. You can contact me at kristen@kristendarcy.com.
Since writing this, more plane crashes have occurred, more shock and awe as life continues its deconstruction. Please don’t hesitate to reach out if you need someone to talk to.
