I don’t need to fix anything, change anything, or figure anything out. Wait a minute. Did I just say that? Yes! Yes I did! I don’t need to fix anything, change anything, or figure anything out. I DON’T NEED TO FIX ANYTHING, CHANGE ANYTHING, OR FIGURE ANYTHING OUT! It’s a miracle!
My posts have been spotty of late, and my critical mind wants to lament and wail about my lack of discipline. Then the practical adult in me recounts what I’ve been doing with my days and nights and counters the critic with Now just where do you think we’d find the time to write when we’re not even getting enough time to sleep? The critic then makes it a bad thing to change my routine, to have a different schedule. It’s addicted to feelings of shame, anxiety, and unworthiness. It’s saying I need to go back to the way things were. But things aren’t the way they were. Not even a little. Things have changed. I am glad about that. I am a part of all things, even though my ego would tell me I am separate. I have changed too. I am glad about that. I don’t need to feel guilty for changing, for adopting a different routine, for using my time in different ways. Therefore, I am glad to write when I can, and not a minute before. (Takes a deep breath and lies down on the floor, looks out the window at a puffy, white cloud floating in the blue sky, relaxes and sighs.)
Relaxing into being, into acceptance of this moment… This is not complacency, it is sanity. When I resist this moment, I spend my energy trying to push reality into my contracted idea of how things “should” be. Living this way is painful. It’s exhausting. It’s hopeless. It’s insane. I’m choosing another way. I choose to accept this moment. I care deeply about what is happening, so I’m not going to accept it in apathy and silence. No, I will accept this moment consciously, see it for what it is, and then decide how I’ll respond, all from a place of relaxed awareness, with no attachment to a particular result. Grateful that this is a practice… I don’t have to get it right. I just have to try. Wish me luck!
As I continue to remain perplexed, and my mind resists the fact that healing isn’t linear, and so I cannot identify the end point— it seems to me that the key to peace must be acceptance. I accept that my healing is non-linear I accept that healing from trauma can be very messy I accept that there are no clear start and finish lines. And my mind expects that everything will change now that I have found acceptance. I accept that acceptance changes nothing except the way I relate to this moment. I accept this moment. I accept this life.
Its voice speaks all throughout the day: No, don’t do that, don’t put that there, that isn’t right, can’t you do better than that? C’mon, you know better, oh no! I’ts very exhausting. I really am doing my best. I really am tired so frequently, just wanting to take the time and space to rest and engage in conscious self-care. I’d like to shake this voice off, somehow, but it’s inside me, intimately acquainted with my deepest fears, of which it reminds me nearly constantly. Or else it attempts to distract me from my fears, by reminding me how inadequate I am, and so what’s the point of trying to shift into a conscious, spacious paradigm— I’ll mess this one up too, it tells me. Little by little I’m becoming aware of the powerful, deep current of thinking that influences all of my interactions, All of my insights. Little by little I’m realizing I can choose what I take in, and what I give out. Little by little I’m gaining the strength to discern which voice to listen to, and the will to stay open even when it’s difficult. Little by litte, I’m understanding that this moment is enough, just as it is.
The ground is shifting constantly, never the same, so how can I build anything right now? Maybe it’s time to let things fall apart, and see what’s left after the winds of change blow through. I’d like to have some kind of plan, a goal, a vision, something that helps me feel like there’s a future and I have some control over the outcome… But this is a war humans have been fighting since they knew they could fight and where has it gotten us? Maybe I’m better off simply breathing and allowing myself to be right here, right now. Breathing and being. Yeah. That has a nice ring to it.
After all this time practicing presence, all this work appreciating possibility, all this meditation on realizing my potential, I recognize that I’m just as attached to my carefully crated reality as everyone else. When faced with the loss of everything familiar, I can’t help but panic, mourn, grieve. It’s humbling to admit after saying so many times I wanted my life to change that now all I am I doing is craving the routine.
I am making peace with my humanness because not to make peace is insanity. I have come to realize that the struggle for survival is over, and so I no longer need to act as if my life is a struggle. To truly love is to be deeply honest and to move and speak and give from that deep core of truth. It’s normal to feel tired when you’re working hard and it’s normal to feel tired when you’re thinking about working hard yet feeling directionless, unsure. It’s ok not to know. It’s ok to make mistakes. It’s ok to be who you really are, without pretense, without the drive to impress. Authenticity is the new sexy.
This doesn’t feel right. It’s happening again. Sadness. Depression. Comparing my life to someone else’s, someone more successful. I don’t want to struggle to make ends meet. I don’t want to question if people really get me. And then…acceptance. I accept how I feel. I accept that this is happening again. I accept the sadness, the depression, I accept the comparison. I accept that life is a struggle sometimes. I accept my yearning to be understood. I’m still me with all my issues, but with acceptance, I’m a little more peaceful.
I’m learning how to simplify… I can’t anticipate what’s next, but I can be here now. I can’t know what will happen tomorrow, but I can attend to what needs to be done today. I can’t know if my friends will be in my life forever, but I can love who they are right now. I can practice this willingness to stay in the simple present moment so that when the time comes, I can simply let go, simply let go.