There lies a place in me that has grown numb and is forgotten, a place that in the cool darkness has fallen asleep.
The every day routines of existence have turned off the spigot of kindness, creativity and possibility. Even many of those rituals established to keep me awake and alive are void of meaning, passion, and connectivity.
I must step out of the sleepiness, the lethargy, and the isolation. I can no longer await the awakening. I must create it.
In the darkness I will dance until the vast potential and possibility within me are moved and my heart connected to the fullness, freedom, and gift of my essential self.
In the daylight hours and through the night, I will stay alert to those parts of my life that have fallen asleep, that are passing me by…and I will sing and dance and engage in such revelry and play that no part can remain unmoved, I cannot escape the awakening.
There I will find my essential self, my capacity to joyfully meet my needs as well as yours, and celebrate the wonder of life.
Special thanks to Greg Young of RGY Photography for the beautiful photo accompanying this post. See more at http://www.rgyphotography.comor on Instagram @randygyyoung.
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.
It holds me, carries me, represents and protects me.
Why do I judge it, harm it, ignore it?
My body has unconditional love for me, always doing its best to support whatever next idea I have about how to decorate it, what to put into it, how to use it.
It will not last forever and it may not always be able to do or give me what I want, but in the still of the night, no matter what I ask of it, if I listen very carefully, I can hear it saying, “I love you”…every organ, every bone, every muscle, every cell.
Can I ask “How are you?” for the sake of simply caring?
Can I learn of your pain, your mistakes, your successes, without judging?
Can I know that your different opinions, ideas, and ways of doing things are exquisite because they are you?
Can I trust that all of your decisions are yours, not good or bad, but those necessary to lead you along the path that is you?
Can I resist the urge to selfishly invade your experience just to feel more powerful from the distant shores of my perceptions?
Can I love and respect you enough to allow you to mind your own business?
Can we all just live freely and in peace to exist in the space of our own decisions, to learn and grow in our own unique ways, and just go to work at the task of being what we were made to be…our own selves?
There is just one of me – one body, one mind, one world.
Yet, when I am in the left side of my mind, my world is lined up in neat little rows of describers and stories that define all of my experiences, forming memories of the past and predictions for the future, a space of story-telling, label-making, and structure.
In the right side of my mind, I am larger, brighter, made of colors, shapes, and lacking concrete boundaries. When I step to the right, I feel free and open, joyful and full of peace. My world is expansive, allowing, and in so many ways limitless. In the right side of my mind, I am present and full of wonder, curiosity, and enjoyment.
I move back and forth from side to side, creating the dance that is me…but I do think I would be better off if I took a step to the right more often.