Browsing through Anne Lamott's illustrated quotes this morning brought me to tears. In my unwritten (mostly) manifesto, one of the basic beliefs is that everything is process. Everything takes as long as it takes and that is often very, very long. It is the unfolding of an intricate origami piece to see how it was created. All is patience, patience generously drizzled with the tangy-sweet lemon glaze of love. Evolution is the teacher that causes us to fall in love with ourselves in spite of how unsuitable we think we are. A self-identified usual suspect.
So once again I am in the midst of process. As familiar as this terrain is, I hope I am not merely dragging myself around in a circle, covering the same ground again and again. I trust it is the spiral path described by Ellen Bass and Laura Davis in their book, The Courage to Heal. Though the view seems the same, we have actually reached another level.
A few weeks back I wrote about a sense of change. In a tribute to intuition and my willingness to pay it heed, it seems I was not mistaken. The newest increment of self-acceptance, enhanced self-care, attempting to usher shame to the exit and not for the first time for it is a stubborn lodger, and intensifying compassion for self and all it/I have experienced, finds me considerably older than I once was, more weary yet more optimistic. I have become better at quieting the fear-driven mind and linking arms with the love-centered heart and spirit. I can, I do, show up. Everything is process. Here we are again.
(In case this might interest you, I'll share the link to a recent podcast by an energy healer whose work I admire and trust. Her name is Jo Dunning. A long-time friend studied with her and introduced me to her work. In this program, she speaks of the difference between mind and intuition, of radical compassion, especially for self, and explains the way her energy is able to be transmitted even via electronic media, even replays. And she talks of finding our own way through our greatest difficulties, of not coming to a teacher as anything but an equal. I found it strengthening. We each have our unique journey. http://mywellnessrevolution.com/wow-joreplay/ The replay will, I believe, be available through this weekend.)
4 comments:
Oh, as if you didn't need telling, Marylinn, you are so loved. You say so clearly what many of us are still in the corner, cringing over, unable to even mumble what still feels unspeakable. And we come here, and between you and the forthright Anne Lamont, we're given the next paving stones which we have to put down in our own lives in order to move forward.
I know from my experience that, though it feels like we've come to the same place yet again, it only looks identical--it isn't, for the process has taken us far afield, and brought us back to a nearby peak where we have the chance to see where we once were, and to start--not over again because it isn't the same path at all, it's only familiar---to start a fresh, to start anew, iin shoes that may pinch less, with a practically invisible swag in our step, breathing more deeply, head a little less bowed. Shame, that quisling (oh, how I love your style!) is exceptionally hard to rid oneself of. Shame will not be dynamited out of your life lightly. But given how much you love, the generosity of your heart, the wisdom of your soul, you are clearly more than good enough. But that revelation, the light that dawns on Marblehead, will come when it's ready and not before. It's a process. And so many people are walking with you, who know you well, who love you just as you are, who will walk to the ends of the earth and further, knowing absolutely how perfect and very human and incredibly dear you are. xoxo
Melissa - Dear friend and blessing, thank you. Even if I shuffle, don't step out smartly as a friend used to say, it is still showing up. Right now, songs with the theme of "I drove all night to get to you" seem to be playing in my head. I suppose we are always in process of coming home to our true selves, we knew we were out there somewhere, or certainly hoped we were. Our own soul mates, antsy behind the wheel while also sitting on the porch steps, studying the pleasing design of our flowered socks as we listen for the car that slows, turns the corner and glides up to the curb. xo
This is such a powerful post -- in describing your own intuition, your own hesitant process, you've helped me to think about something intensely personal in a different way. THANK YOU. Sometimes it's just overwhelming -- this community of souls.
Elizabeth - Thank you. This community of souls, for it is just that, astonishes me every day in one way or another. I'm so glad there was something here for you. xo
Post a Comment