Just because I tolerate your actions does not mean I condone them.
It does not mean they do not wound me, make me bristle or rattle my confidence in my own internal guidance systems.
Tolerance simply means that I am giving you room to be you – to learn and teach us both through your actions – to allow us to explore anger and fear, but also know patience, compassion, and forgiveness.
Tolerance is grace flexing its muscles. Tolerance is the power of my will to know my truth and allow you to explore yours.
There once was a bright and shining little girl who truly knew her path and her gifts. Even at a very early age, contrary to her young counterparts, this little girl spoke her truth. “I won’t eat that animal…I just won’t,” she would cry even when it was the only opportunity she had to be fed. I will dance and run. I will play on my breath. I will have struggles and need experiences along the way to help me remember who I am, but I will make my own way. What she didn’t realize was how many others she would touch with her shining light, like a glowing ray of sunshine. And so she grew, in her own way, finding adventures far beyond the comfort of many others in her circle of family and friends. Yet, she never stopped listening to that voice of her truth – she stood up as she needed, she walked away with forgiveness and grace at times when others fell into compliance and complacency, and she shared and shared all of who she was and knew everywhere she went. She didn’t need a title or a label for what she spent her whole life naturally doing. In fact, others took her guidance and called it theirs. Others wanted to ride the wave of her knowing as if they could capture that spirit through study or association. And routinely many prodded and questioned her, demanding validation and justification around the path she chose. Nonetheless, she carefully sifted through all the disingenuous tethers, all the glitter and temptations, and stayed on her path, flanking herself with friends, colleagues, and ambassadors of truth, of inner knowing, of love…and she let the rest melt away (not always without sadness, anger, or feelings of loss, but carefully on the rhythm of each breath returning to wholeness). She is a daily reminder of the gifts of expressing, honoring, and living as authentic self….of living as love.
Sometimes my roots seem so tangled. I think I have such secure footing and all I am is a jumble of knots — tight, restricted spaces, so bound by the clenching and grasping, all too familiar way of responding in a space of growth.
The more I try to stretch out and widen my stance, secure my foundation, the more difficult it becomes to untangle, the more I coil my roots in on each other with the trepidation of touching the unknown.
So I wait for the soil to soften, as when the rain comes or the warm sun shines. I muster the courage to extend just one small tip into the soft and welcoming space around me.
There this brave little part of me, this now untangled root, explores these unknown spaces. I find a stone. Another blockage, another stumbling point, another place to coil and jumble into knots.
Today, I overturn the stone. I dig up new opportunities to grow, not tangled where I’ve been, but stretching out to where I want to go.
As I stretch out, surprisingly I find the roots of others there to hold me and I to hold them as we courageously untangle from ourselves to grow together.
Here I sit in the middle of my couch. Extreme joy balancing on one armrest. Great challenge and sorrow on the other. There are pillows and soft coverings that support me as I lean to one side or the other.
There is excitement and movement, equal levels of engagement and doing required at either end of my couch.
There are days when I slide over to one side and days that I spend a large amount of time on the other. Neither better nor worse. Both engaging my heart and mind in ways that are good for me. Both providing opportunities for me to grow. Both utterly exhausting.
Today I choose not to lean or slide. Today I choose to curl up right here in the middle of it all, to feel the balanced rhythm of my heart, lulled into rest by my breath. Today I remember the weariness in my bones. Today I remember that laughter and crying use the same muscles.
I smile and melt deep into the cushions of my comfy little couch, so happy to have joy and sorrow by my sides.
