The day before I left Tanzania, I was already grieving. I had been filled with such energy, such life, it was hard to leave. We had just spent several hours hiking the semi-tropical rainforest of Mahale on Lake Tanganyika, basking in the wonder of frolicking chimpanzees in their natural surroundings. I looked forward to one last walk in the mountains the next day, one last morning to soak in the sounds and images and energy of Africa, before I said good-bye.

My group was standing by the boat that would take us back to our tented lodging. Our guide asked us how many wanted to walk in the morning. He needed to tell the ranger to meet us, as no one is allowed to walk alone in the rainforest. I raised my hand. The only one. I immediately fell back into an old pattern of not wanting to cause any inconvenience. I didn’t want to make the ranger come just for me. “That’s ok,” I said. “I don’t need to walk.” Our guide looked deep into me. “If you want to do it,” he said, “then do it.”

So many things about Africa opened up the closed places in me. This last gift, this invitation to stay fully alive, given me by this generous-spirited guide, so alive himself, reminded me one more time how easy it is to slip back into a non-feeling place. Even in such a dynamic setting, when I was feeling so vibrant and so connected, I could make a choice that deadens, numbs my feelings and drains my energy. It struck me then, it strikes me now, how subtle such choices are in us.

Every choice I made in Tanzania impacted my energy and aliveness. Who I chose to ride with in the land rover for the day, whether or not I allowed myself to try a new experience,  how I chose to interact with the group — all this made a qualitative difference in my experience of Africa, in my experience of myself in Africa.

The more energy I put forth, the more energy I had. The more I connected with and was available to what the moment had to offer, the more the moment offered. The more I allowed myself to feel, the more I could feel. I see now,  energy and feelings and abundance are connected. The more you’re open to, the more is available.

Our feelings keep us close to our authentic self, where our real energy is. Identifying and honoring feelings releases energy held in the body and in the mind, producing new energy and making available energy that had been trapped. Energy comes from unknown parts of ourselves, released as we try new things, as we push our limits, as we reclaim parts of ourselves we previously split off, put down, neglected, often our most delicious parts.

When we don’t allow ourselves to be energized by this waking energy — when we disconnect from, trivialize or deny our feelings, for example — we walk around in a self-imposed malaise of discontent that robs our energy and prevents us from being open to the true abundance around us.

I find I trap vital energy in that black hole in the back pocket of my soul with a simple, “It doesn’t matter.” It doesn’t matter I looked forward to walking the mountains in the morning, soaking in sunlight through that lush canopy of green, delighting in the sounds and images of an African rainforest. It doesn’t matter I can draw on that energy and presence long after I’ve left this sacred ancestral ground. 

If you want to do it, then do it. With that simple phrase, our guide cleared away the blockage I was building between myself and my vitality. I was able to see clearly how I put to sleep, sabotage, discount the very part of me I enjoy. I was not asking too much, being too aggressive, too self-entitled. I put forth a genuine need that would satisfy something deep and wonderful in me, connect me more deeply with myself, something that would enlarge upon the energy and wellness I had released in myself those three weeks in Africa.

His words become an inner guide to shepherd me through my slippages and forgetting moments: Don’t put anything in your body, don’t put anything unsaid between yourself and another person, don’t put anything untried between yourself and a more liberated you, that will rob you of the aliveness, the passion, the energy you so want in your life. Know in your own mind what will be enough to fill you for now. Ask in a clear, specific manner. Then, let go of the outcome.

The ranger came that last morning in Africa, for me. I walked that holy gound through the rainforest alone, priviledged, graced, full to the brim.

It did matter.