Free Fall
When Things are shaky and nothing is working, we might realize we are on the verge of something. We might realize that this is a very vulnerable and tender place, and that tenderness can go either way. We can shut down and feel resentful, or we can touch in on that throbbing quality. There is definitely something tender and throbbing about groundlessness.
Pema Chodron
Recently I had one of those "noticings" that many of the ways I avoid that edge of discomfort, were no longer working. I didn't occur to me I was on the verge of something.
In what felt like a place of surrender , I called a friend. She was delighted. To say I was befuddled and a bit taken aback at her reaction to my distress, would be understated.
A dear friend suggested to me not long ago," to give up the fight". To say she suggested would be too soft. She said you "have to give up the fight, breathe, take in the prana, the life force that is yours and rest, really rest. She said the next part is, to get still and quiet and really listen to my own inner voice, and when I got used to hearing it , to live by what it says. She told me this would be the hardest part.
I thought , not so hard, after all I listen daily. Her words spoken lovingly, strongly, urgently had only a fraction of the impact until I met my fear and felt I had no more fight, no more resources to back away, redirect. I had to lean in and see where I am stuck, to really hear the voice of my higher self.
I began writing this 2 years ago while in the process of making the biggest move of my life. This is no understatement....
We sold our home of 30 years, a place we raised our children, lost children, and lived the bulk of our marriage. This was the town I had lived in or around my entire life.
I had always had a vaguely chaffing discomfort in this community. I yearned for the quiet and clean air of the north.
The process of selling and moving was more, much more daunting than expected. After arriving in Maine, we camped waiting for our home to be completed. And I slept! We camped for the first months and I assumed the rhythm of the forest around me, rising and retiring with the sun. The opportunity to rest as the body calls for is immensely special... what a gift.
I had been pushing and pushing for so long. The idea of give up the fight was foreign. I had been running for years. So as I read the beginning of this post, I see how prophetic it was. I love that I can look back and see the seeds as they were planted. The process in between the command to "give up the fight" and today was, of course,indescribably messy. In the mess I was unable to see what a gift was coming my way.
My arrival here in Maine was a bit rocky, camping for months,dealing with contractors. In this mess I connected with the most amazing group of gifted, talented compassionate women who are my support. I'm in awe and so grateful at the same time at this special group of women who have eased this transition.
All this support has enabled me to become....Last week one woman said, "remember the person you always wanted to be". I think back to the sensation of vague chaffing and notice it's absence.
I am home.
Pema Chodron
Recently I had one of those "noticings" that many of the ways I avoid that edge of discomfort, were no longer working. I didn't occur to me I was on the verge of something.
In what felt like a place of surrender , I called a friend. She was delighted. To say I was befuddled and a bit taken aback at her reaction to my distress, would be understated.
A dear friend suggested to me not long ago," to give up the fight". To say she suggested would be too soft. She said you "have to give up the fight, breathe, take in the prana, the life force that is yours and rest, really rest. She said the next part is, to get still and quiet and really listen to my own inner voice, and when I got used to hearing it , to live by what it says. She told me this would be the hardest part.
I thought , not so hard, after all I listen daily. Her words spoken lovingly, strongly, urgently had only a fraction of the impact until I met my fear and felt I had no more fight, no more resources to back away, redirect. I had to lean in and see where I am stuck, to really hear the voice of my higher self.
I began writing this 2 years ago while in the process of making the biggest move of my life. This is no understatement....
We sold our home of 30 years, a place we raised our children, lost children, and lived the bulk of our marriage. This was the town I had lived in or around my entire life.
I had always had a vaguely chaffing discomfort in this community. I yearned for the quiet and clean air of the north.
The process of selling and moving was more, much more daunting than expected. After arriving in Maine, we camped waiting for our home to be completed. And I slept! We camped for the first months and I assumed the rhythm of the forest around me, rising and retiring with the sun. The opportunity to rest as the body calls for is immensely special... what a gift.
I had been pushing and pushing for so long. The idea of give up the fight was foreign. I had been running for years. So as I read the beginning of this post, I see how prophetic it was. I love that I can look back and see the seeds as they were planted. The process in between the command to "give up the fight" and today was, of course,indescribably messy. In the mess I was unable to see what a gift was coming my way.
My arrival here in Maine was a bit rocky, camping for months,dealing with contractors. In this mess I connected with the most amazing group of gifted, talented compassionate women who are my support. I'm in awe and so grateful at the same time at this special group of women who have eased this transition.
All this support has enabled me to become....Last week one woman said, "remember the person you always wanted to be". I think back to the sensation of vague chaffing and notice it's absence.
I am home.
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