Stretching Toward the Light

Every now and then I am moved to share something from my personal journal.

I ran across this photo this morning and it just seemed to fit so perfectly with what I wrote this morning! I thought…perhaps it’s a sign. Maybe it’s time to peek back into my blog.

It’s been an interesting journey. I’ve been around the United States…to Paris…to Burning Man and to Ireland and London. It’s been a journey through leaving the job I had and selling a house. More importantly, it’s been an inward journey of seeing things in new fresh ways. It’s been a journey of allowing myself to simply “not know”, to let go and tentatively begin to trust something greater than myself.

28 March 2019

So, this is how it feels. This is how it feels to begin to nurture a small seed within myself. This is how it feels to slowly grow through the rubble of everything that used to be and push toward the sun of something new. This is how it feels to breathe into the cracking open…and into the stretching. Sometimes peace. Sometimes a simple faith in the “what is” of right now. Sometimes the electric static of “what’s happening?”

There has been fear. There has been grief. There has been rage. There has been confusion. All the while I have been learning something. I am learning how those things can be held in the body. I am learning how they can be loved…tenderly. I am learning how, when they are loved they can gestate. When the body responds with love, something new is born.

As I write, I notice a feeling of reaching out toward the miracle…a feeling of holding on…and also a recognition of its wispy nature. It won’t be held that way. It asks for my respect…my honoring. “I’m here,” the miracle whispers. “Don’t get grabby.” The miracle is somehow the nature of this life. I have only to get quiet to enter its presence. I have only to remember.

Let the hows come unraveled. Listen to the soft music of your body. Listen to its rhythms. Let that be your devotion.

My wish is to be free…not necessarily rigorous. My wish is to be devoted…not lazy. Somewhere in the middle a dervish spins with delight…pouring her heart out to God.