Trust your senses to guide you, my intuition said.
The air currents are too complex and the terrain too rough for you to navigate said my mind…
Are you sure you can find your way?
It’s too risky said my body to go out on your own and ride the sky.
It takes confidence and a release of all fear.
Against the advice of familiar patterns, out-purposed behaviors, and nagging beliefs, I spread my wings.
I launch and take flight unsure of where I will go, unsure of what nourishment I may or may not find, what challenges I may or may not face, and what gifts I may or may not discover.
As my feet lift off the ground, euphoria fills me knowing that my destiny is in the flight itself, not what it brings or where it goes but in the unbridled courage and curiosity that soar with me, reminding me who I really am.
I had no idea that as I tore down the wall to rescue my abandoned self that I would nearly smother in the rubble.
Even when loss is experienced in a way that relieves abuse, abandonment and betrayal, the disruption it causes and the pain of breaking through the barriers to healing oneself are great.
And those who helped to build the wall, who reveled in the obstructing and ostracizing of that true self, walk away unphased by the devastation left behind. They go on to build thicker walls around themselves and others.
While their departure ensures the wall they left behind is not reinforced, it hurts that they do nothing to help remove the heavy stones, broken shards, and pieces of what they worked so relentlessly to build.
That burden rests on the shoulders of the self behind the wall. One by one the stones are slid aside. The dust settles. The light starts to shine through the piles and pieces as the opening grows wider and wider.
The power in seeing that self emerge, pale and weak at first – labored breathing, heavy and slow moving, still patiently and methodically forging ahead and finding its way – is so sweet to witness…even in its efforting.
That self digging out from the rubble need not feel animosity, anger, or resentment. No, that self is not needing to be rescued.
That self is triumphing in the freedom of self-acknowledgment, self-care, and self-worth.
Much of the power in healing comes from the self not needing to be rescued. The power is in putting aside the rubble and freeing oneself.
My survival relied upon having my needs met by others.
I developed coping strategies to optimize the potential my needs would be met.
I had to believe I would survive. I was reliant on others.
As an adult, I can survive on my own.
I can need nothing.
My needs are now replaced with wants.
Wants are preferences that guide my choices and mold my experiences.
From the space of wants, I transition from believing I can survive to knowing I can thrive.
I move from engaging coping skills and relying on others to making choices in collaboration with those who authentically support my growth along with theirs.
There is power in wanting and knowing.
Wanting and knowing bring assuredness, clarity, and focus.
Expectations fall away, choices become simpler, and I begin to align more and more with my sense of fulfillment, harmony, and success.
So many times I have wished for a window into the future, into the consequences of my choices.
Seeking certainty in my decisions, weighing my intuition against the feedback in my environment, just to be sure I am getting the best deal, walking the right path, doing the proper thing.
All along I have sought clarity to fuel my certainty. I thought that clarity would provide assurance as if my choices could ever be right or wrong.
The day I chose acceptance over assurance is the day I began to realize there are no good and bad choices, no right or wrong.
When I seek assurance in my choices, I am doubting my capacity to be flexible, creative, and resilient.
When I seek to accept my choices I engage compassion for myself and confidence that I will be ok no matter what choice I make.
Standing on the precipice, mountains before me and behind me, I contemplate briefly the ascent or decent into the unknown.
No worries that the fog hinders my view because I feel my feet. I know that each moment, step by attuned step, I will find the earth and the sure footing that only comes with internal clarity.
Like the goat that climbs the rocks and edges of the cliffs with certainty, I approach the present, with the same attention to which I have all too often focused on my future and my past.
Looking back and looking forward the fog distorts the view. The lack of clarity forces me to see here, only that which is right in front of me.
In this moment, I put my hooves to the ground. I see the steps I need to take right here and now. I do not need to see the mountains in the foreground to know my way.
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.
Monday Mindfulness 