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.
The voice clearly said Bring your guitar and sing them the song. And she shook her head, thinking, No way. But the voice repeated Bring your guitar, and sing them the song. They went back and forth a few more times, until she acquiesced. She brought her guitar, she sang them the song. And then silence… So she asked the voice Why would you have me sing if they didn’t even acknowledge the song? And the voice said, It’s not about them, darling, It’s about how you relate to yourself when you step outside your box and let your voice be heard. Now, keep singing.
I’ve had this lingering cold since September, finally went to the doctor yesterday; she wants me to squirt stuff up my nose, gargle with salt water, and rest. I’m tired of feeling draggy, tired of living surrounded by boxes, tired of being tired. So today, I rested. And it’s nuts what the voices in my head tell me. Don’t be lazy. It’s not so bad. Look at your house! It’s deplorable. You should be ashamed of yourself! My overworking made me sick. And now I’m trying to get better… but somehow I’m not allowed to do the things that will help me get better? Another voice speaks. Discern the voice of truth. Listen a little more deeply. Hear the song of being. Let yourself heal.
What would happen if I just let go? What would happen if I set down the illusion of control, and I just let myself be held? I’ve been praying for guidance, yearning to yield gracefully to the flow of life in and through me. But how does one actually let go? I can grasp the idea, but holding a thought is different from the actual experience of surrender in my body, heart, mind, spirit self… I’ll keep breathing and praying, hoping that eventually I learn how to simply be…
As a teacher I can be in control; I tell you what to do, and I expect you to do it. But when I’m the student, I get antsy…I want to fiddle with things. Tonight I was a student in a breathwork class. I remembered the necessity of trust and surrender, allowing the teacher to hold the space for me. It felt strange at first, because I am chronically the one who does the holding. As I breathed and the layers of my emotional body were peeled back to reveal what was percolating underneath it all, I remembered the saying How you do anything is how you do everything. I thought about how LIfe as my teacher must get so frustrated with me, my fiddling. Life just wants me to trust and surrender, allowing the space to be held for me, allowing myself to be held.