Ok, so where to begin? I recently dodged two bullets and celebrated my close calls, having lived through three years of celibacy and discovering that I’d rather be alone than share my time with a man who cannot slow down, breathe, rest, and truly see me.
Can someone please tell me just what is enough? What is a big enough house, or how much is enough food to be able to live in health? And why are there those living with very little who manage to be happy, and then there are those who live in excess who are miserable? And then there are those who simply don’t have enough and they live in despair, and there are those with a surplus who are celebrating their good fortune… And then there is everyone in-between, fluctuating with gratitude and trust, allowing, resisting, judging, surrendering. And then, and I’m still wondering about this— there are people who don’t have access to clean drinking water, while I take luxurious baths with candles, and epsom salt and essential oils, and I really can’t understand why this disparity exists…. It’s a good thing we humans are so resilient. Otherwise all this variety could really make us lose our minds.
I’ve been practicing this Wim Hof breathing video every day for almost a week… It’s eaten into my music time on my cushion, but now I’m breathing more consciously— and maybe when my breath is strong enough, I will breathe consciously as I play my music. I have been preparing for this moment for so long: Where I feel totally free and at ease, allowing myself to create authentically from my deepest center, letting the love of life, of presence flow from me, radiating harmony into the world.
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.
Just breathe. Just relax. Look around you. This moment. Don’t try to figure it all out. The moment is always changing, and the understanding you have now is different from the one you will have tomorrow. It is enough to just be who you are. It is enough to just breathe. This moment. Look around you. Just relax. Just breathe.
There is so much wisdom in surrender, knowing that I don’t know, opening to guidance, keeping the faith that there’s a reason, relaxing deeper into trust. When I could finally let go of the life I thought I had, the life I felt entitled to, I finally had the space to welcome my real life, as it is, right now. Then the real healing could begin. I had to let go of my marriage and I had to let go of my anger toward my children’s father for abandoning the marriage. I had to let go of control (I had none to begin with). When everything fell apart and there was nowhere to go but through, I learned to get clear and sober and fill my mind with prayer. I learned to turn everything over to a power greater than myself. I turned over my thoughts, words and actions, my hopes, dreams and fears, my beliefs, perceptions, my ideas of success and failure. Somehow, grace pulled me through the darkest nights of my soul; somehow I survived the changes that took time… I am grateful for prayers, sacred words spoken that bolster my courage and soothe my bodymind. I am grateful that my whole life has become a prayer.
I have this power to choose and I choose freedom. I choose to see how inextricably connected I am with All That Is and to communicate deeply with consciousness as it presents itself in the present moment. I choose to surrender into being to dissolve the illusion of confinement within me so that I can truly experience the ultimate freedom. I let go of my definition of this moment. What arrives is truth, reality, the freedom to be exactly who I am, accepting my humanity, in love with life the way it is…
We might feel haunted but what needs to get done. We might feel driven to achieve success, and we might believe that we’ll be happy once we do. I am one of those people. I am also fortunate to have teachers, mentors, guides and wise ones show me a different way. When I feel haunted by the to do list, I can pause. When I think I need to be more successful, I can pause. The household chores don’t all have to get done at once. I don’t need to achieve overnight success. I don’t have to prove myself to the world. I can pause to enjoy where I am and who I am right now. What a relief!
When he decided our marriage was over, I didn’t know how to let go. When he collected his family, colleagues, clients and friends and drew a line in the sand, I didn’t know how to let go. When he began seeing another woman and spending nights out, I didn’t know how to let go. When he introduced our children to the other woman, I didn’t know how to let go. When our house went into foreclosure, I didn’t know how to let go. And I was dragged. I was dragged. I was dragged. And it hurt, how it hurt, how it hurt. But I survived. I began to pray to God Show me how to let go. Show me how to surrender gracefully. Slowly but surely, Life revealed to me what remained when what was no longer serving me was dragged away. I’m finding more stable ground, and learning how to love what is here, now. I’m discovering that I’m happier by myself, healthier living in alignment with my deeper self, more confident speaking with my true voice, grateful for the simple things, the simple grace of being. I am grateful for this sweet surrender to life.
I was sifting through mountains of papers looking for something. One of the mountains shifted, sending an avalanche to the floor. And then in the next second, another avalanche. And I said, Okay, me too. So I fell to the floor, lay down on my back, stared up at the track lighting on my ceiling. Here we all are, on the floor. Now what? I felt my body was tired. I didn’t want to search anymore. I knew that whatever it was, either it would turn up, or I would replace it. So I went upstairs, and I got in bed, and had dreams about mountains and avalanches.