Don’t read this with your mind,
read it with your heart,
because your heart will know that it is true:
There is nothing missing in this moment,
and you are whole and complete as you are.
Don’t listen to your mind respond to what you just read!
You’ve got to hush that thing up, give it a vacation.
Say to your mind,
Yes, dear, I know, you don’t like this…
why don’t you take a nice hot bath or something?
Meanwhile, just run right out the back door,
get back to the love that is this moment.
It waits for you like the best lover you have ever known,
open, available, ready to give you everything,
if you just show up and allow yourself to be held.
You can’t heal what you can’t feel…
and so my biggest task
has been just allowing the feelings to rise,
to be seen, acknowledged, embraced,
and finally felt.
For a long time I attempted to deny my feelings,
because they appeared too painful to accept,
and I was afraid of what might happen
if I allowed the tidal wave to crash over me.
It turns out that I was giving my attention
to my fear of the difficult feelings
rather than to the feelings themselves.
The fear made it all seem so much worse
that it really was.
Once I peeled back all my layers
of distraction, denial and defense
and exposed my tender heart to myself,
I saw that there was nothing to fear.
As the grief came up, the doubt,
the self-blame, the regret, the anger,
the loneliness, the abandonment,
the resistance and all the others
emerged as a procession,
one by one, to be fully received
and welcomed by me.
As I allowed these feelings to flow through,
I sensed underneath them my resilience,
my strength, and finally my hope
for new feelings to arrive
once I’ve made enough room for them
by letting the old feelings go…
I should be used to living in uncertainty by now
but I suppose my brain is hardwired for familiarity
because this not knowing is generating so much…fear.
Or is it resistance, disappointment, frustration?
I don’t know.
I just remember there was a time
I expressed gratitude to him
for saving me from my uncertainty
and then a short time later
he was done saving me.
And that feeling of rejection, betrayal, abandonment
Years later, it lingers.
Can someone tell me when and how
I’ll really feel and know
at the deep core of my being
that it’s all going to be okay?
Sitting in ceremony this weekend,
I realized how very much my mind
still wants this moment to show up differently
and how much suffering
this wanting things to be different
stirs up in my life.
If I could only love and accept this moment as it is,
how would my experience be different?
Could I soften into this beauty?
Could I accept my own wholeness, my completeness?
Could I love this journey I’m on,
and learn to accept that uncertainty
is an integral part of the adventure?
I’m walking on the razor’s edge
between acceptance and resistance,
every moment, between peace and suffering.
I see how much choice I have,
and how much responsibility
to make the choice that will help and heal
instead of hurt and hinder.
As a mother, the choice becomes even more impactful.
My kids are watching me make meaning
out of all of these life experiences.
I’m teaching them every moment
how to love or how to fear this life.
God, please show me how to love.
God, show me how to love this life,
so that by the time my kids are my age,
they’ll know which choice to make.
Suddenly I recognized
I didn’t have to worry anymore,
I didn’t have to struggle anymore,
I didn’t have to prove myself to anyone,
I didn’t have to fight to survive.
Suddenly I realized that peace is here, now.
I didn’t have to change anything,
understand, analyze, anticipate,
modify, regret, like, dislike,
or hope for anything.
I didn’t have to communicate anything.
Suddenly I realized that this moment
holds the key to everything
and there is nothing lacking.
And for the first time I felt free.
If healing were easy
everyone would be doing it
but there is no switch,
no magic wand
no quick fix.
And it doesn’t work to focus on the surface,
shining up the exterior
while the interior is full of darkness;
the light must shine everywhere.
it doesn’t work to replace one extreme
with another either.
It’s not about eradicating the darkness
so that there is only light;
we learn through contrast,
and the darkness has its place
in this great wheel of life.
Balance is the key,
and acceptance that everything changes.
If we could drop the unreasonable expectations
and open our hearts to what is alive in this moment,
we might discover that the antidote to our pain
lives within the pain itself.
Our adversity is our greatest teacher.
I’ve arrived at that barely functional place
at the end of a long, busy day.
My body feels ready for sleep,
my mind is surprisingly calm.
I float in and out of awareness
that this house I’m living in
is no longer my house
and my children and I will have to leave
someday very soon.
The feeling isn’t as terrifying or devastating
as it was before…
Have I come to a place of acceptance?