Love Like Water

lovelikewater

Reading my daily meditation book, Mark Nepo writes, “Only love, with no thought of return, can soften the point of suffering.” This little sentence allowed the release of some deep seeded tears this morning. I’ve been waiting. I’ve waited all week for some kind of major emotional surrender. This morning, before light casted over darkness, the soft tears rolled down caressing my face. With them they left a trail of confirmation: I have done all I needed to do as a parent. I’ve done what I could do under the circumstances. The rest is up to God.
Love has a way of erasing the deepest level of suffering. It also has a way of releasing. Many times we believe that the love part is what causes the pain in the first place. We carry the erroneous idea that “if I wasn’t so loving I wouldn’t be so hurt; if I turn away and was out of sight it wouldn’t be happening this way.” I believe the love part is what allows the humanness to surrender and divinity to make us whole. What causes pain is the insistence of trying to control another into what you feel is right for them. It is all a magic trick, an illusion, of the times and how we’ve been programmed to believe. We have little control of anything. But, we like to pretend that we do!
As I hold my book while drinking my coffee I continue to read his words: “Most things break instead of transform because they resist. The quiet miracle of love is that without our interference, it, like water, accepts whatever is tossed or dropped or placed into it, embracing it completely.” Ah! A deep sigh for these words echoing from the page.
My daughter has a decision to make today. She was given two choices yesterday that will be determined of how she lives this new journey away from abuse. In her lack of mental capacity to reason or logically analyze she will pick the one she feels is best for her. It’s up to her. She will carry with her the baby girl that has been a light in our home for a week and a half. This business of being a parent doesn’t get easier, but it is never boring. Love is letting go. Love is allowing spirit to do what needs to be done for the higher betterment of all involved. I wholeheartedly believe this with every breath I take.
Love softens that entrance of all suffering while releasing the unknowns. There is no formula to an open heart.  It requires faith. It is made of grace, compassion and forgiveness. All we can do is love another and allow for the love to return however fit. This morning it is all I can continue to do…to love unconditionally without expectations. All I am called to do is love….
“The stuff in our lives doesn’t change. It is we who change in relation to it.” – Molly Vass

Listening

Sitting in the doctor’s office today waiting on a referral to see a therapist I am reading Mark Nepo’s new book Seven Thousand Ways to Listen.  I put it down.  I hate this feeling of vulnerability, the past colliding after a year with the present.  The holidays aren’t helping, and every moment I feel poked, dug into deeply with sadness.  For someone who is usually pretty happy this feels foreign and almost ridiculous in nature.  The melancholy doesn’t happen all the time, just when I least expect it, when I can’t control the emotions as I clean the bathroom, mop the floors, take the trash out.  As I stop and breathe and continue on the paragraph the words stop me again and I begin to listen attentively:

With each small cry, it feels less a release and more like an irrepressible, unfiltered tenderness at being fully here.  The more of these moments I experience, the less a problem it seems.  For isn’t this what I’ve been after: to be this close to life, to be pricked below the surface of things? Now I wonder: isn’t anything that keeps us this close to life a gift? Now I want to learn the art of puncturing whatever grows in the way in order to feel that moment where everything touches everything else.  I’m coming to see that keeping what is true before us reminds us that there was never a better time than now.”

And, just like that the listening becomes too much for the sanitized and sterile room.  I smell the walls of disease, hurt, brokenness.  I feel the energy from the clinic engulf me.  I stop everything inside and begin to write on my phone:

 

I listen to the silence
shortly overpowered by
thoughts. It stops.
The quietude of nothingness
gets distorted. I stop.
I swallow in the memories
that prickle and pain me.
The chaos of it stops me
from continuing
the serene path of joy.
I pause, not erasing it all
or stopping the forces
but allowing the tears
to trickle gently down…and out.
Each one takes a little suffering
and then it all stops.
I can breathe again. It hurts
no more,
no less,
not anything. I am back to me
with a wet smile on my face
and the honoring and gratitude
from my spirit
that this too shall pass

once and forever

when I stop holding

betrayal– even while forgiving;

self-criticism– even with the lessons;

and grant the gift of unconditional love

for me

for once…

for all.

*************************

Just like that I was able to get through the morning.  It is never easy to admit that things need to be discussed, realigned and released with the help of a professional.  I am great at thinking I’ve dealt with the issues and quickly moving on to the next one.  After a year I realized I’ve just camouflaged them with beautiful ornamental masks.  It is good to finally be proactive and hopefully make amends with the holidays and those who tarnished them.  May you find yourself listening attentively to your inner voice and follow it!

You are never truly broken…

I spent the night participating in home movies of myself.  The scenes, characters, and situations all suffocated me with negativity.  My ex played a huge role in patronizing and embarrassing me in front of others.  My family turned things upside down to make a point of my “reckless-risky behaviors and decisions.”  Friends came out of nowhere to humiliate me and tell me “their truths” about how they felt in regards of my actions and choices.  These are the small gatherings of traumas leftover from some other time in my life.  Every so often sleep takes me to the subconscious house of pain.  While I am awake I rarely go to those rooms of anguish and agony.

Carl Jung would have a field day with the symbols and archetypes decomposing the brokenness from the collective unconsciousness.  Years ago mornings like this would leave me in tears, mangled and confused.  I would be paralyzed in making a decision without overly analyzing for days.  I would ask continuously, “What’s my purpose here?  I can’t contribute to this or that.  They are right.”  I would find myself spinning out of self-doubt, self-control while lacking self-worth.  Once in that space of inflicted hostility everything seemed worthless of my attention and magnified by inexplicable amount of fears.

Recently I was watching a show with Mark Nepo.  He was being interviewed by Oprah on Super Soul Sunday.  These words echoed this morning when I woke, “To be broke is not a reason to see all things broken.”   I know the past is a wilderness forest.  Once you pass the corner you can only see forward.  You can see shadows of those bad things in the far distance.  Nothing can hurt you any longer from back there.   I have spiritually evolved enough to know these dreams happen when a huge change is about to take place in my life.  They replicate and feed off the little scared girl in me. Their presence is a reminder of how much light I’ve acquired.

We have the inexplicable habit of seeing the world as broken when we are down feeling broken as well.  We justify the negativity as part of our community – the pity-party group.  In darkness all you see is dark unless you allow the spirit to find a switch to turn on the light.  It only takes an instance to do this.  This is what I’ve realized: we are never broken anymore than we are fixed.  It is a shift in our egos that allows us to choose which side we serve.  In being broken we minister to the dark side of our soul.  In accepting our imperfections as perfections we support the light of spirit.  Which do you choose to serve?  Which side will you be: the victim or the survivor?

As I am sipping on my java looking at yet another gray day I smile in contentment.  I am reminded of the great things in my life…right now this instance:  The dog lies near my feet; the cat is stretched out purring on a chair; the man I love is sound asleep down the hall; the smell of incense fills the room; and candles flicker in an erratic dance.  This is Divinity signing to my essence of the great shift in perception.  There is no more darkness.  I won’t go there in waking moments feeding the negativity from the night.

Stop counting your cracks, the imperfections, the shattered insecurities and begin to see what each scar has brought to you in strength.  There…in there…lies a loving spirit dedicated to live in harmony. You are whole…not a hole of pity.  Don’t let the sunshine frighten you more than the big black shadows.  Stop being afraid to live!  Each breath is a gift.  Don’t take it lightly!  God bless….