inviting in

heart shaped things * the birdie chatter & song outside my window * the abundant sunshine * energy * activism * time with family * letting go * a visit with a friend from washington, dc * a visit with a friend from the berkshires, ma * beginning * claiming my momma-hood * hope * intention * smiles from people i pass on the street * being outside * strengthening my body * excitement * this understanding: i am doing my part & i am connected to the all of life & the all of life is doing his/her/their part(s) & i don't have to "do it" solo & i can take comfort in this & rest when i must rest & rise when i must rise & i am not alone; i am so not alone * planning * dreaming * imagining * forgiveness * aligning with spirit * integrity * cleaning up * cleansing * stillness * healing * process * endless, unfolding beauty * breath * gratitude * listening * being brave & true * love * celebration

just

i've been receiving these "just" messages lately:

*just breathe.
*just do the time. [for me, this means doing the time of grieving & doing the time of healing...as if my life depended on it...which it does.]
*just write.
*just this.

what messages are you receiving lately?

how 'bout it?

what if we related to every surface as an altar?
our bodies as temples?
and, our hearts as shrines?

there is nothing wrong

do you ever have times when you can't stand yourself/your way(s) of being? when you are exasperated by your own darn self? to the point of tears i had this experience on friday evening. it wasn't an isolated, one time incident that caused the frustration and trembling (i was literally shaking with upset). it was the awareness of a repeated way of being in a particular space in my life which is so far out of alignment with who i want to be, who i know my highest, fullest expression to be. no, it was not the first time i had this awareness; it was more like the (without exaggeration) 1,000th time i had this awareness. i was uncomfortable, disgusted and ashamed. ugh.

i'm talkin' years of reacting the same way. yet, more than anything i wanted it to be different NOW. yes, years (over 4 of 'em) of reacting the same way and i want it to be different in a second. effective immediately: no more complaining; no more scowling; no more gettin' hysterical; no more little miss pissy pants; no more lookin' bad; no more justifyin'; no more spiraling out of control. when that doesn't happen i get defeated. you can imagine how defeated i've felt/been feeling.

it's like i want to rub out that this way of being is even a part of who i can be, who i be, sometimes. just get rid of it. then i launch a very unhelpful attack on myself: "what's wrong with me? why can't i be different? i know the difference between reacting and responding! i've been doing this for years. STOP the madness." i end this rant to me where i began: "what's wrong with me?!"

i have been sitting rather uncomfortably in all of this for a couple of days now. i've been trying to be compassionate towards me and remind myself: it's a process. this morning, after some tears, a mantra (to support and accompany me) emerged, piece by piece: "i am still. i am quiet. i am listening. i am responding." nearly complete, this mantra. then the true first line of this mantra was revealed: "there is nothing wrong."

there is nothing wrong.
i am still.
i am quiet.
i am listening.
i am responding.

all of this mantra is great and help-full, of course. and, the piece that saves me and inspires me is the beginning. i must start with: "there is nothing wrong." there is nothing wrong. there is nothing wrong. there is nothing wrong.

sprout

this evening after work i went to get a manicure and pedicure in preparation for a very special event this weekend. [the tips of my fingers are sparkling light pink and my toes are gushing deep heart red.] while i sat patiently and obediently, with my hands and feet under dryers, i looked out the window and i experienced myself really seeing what was outside. even more, i experienced myself being a part of it. being a part of the flow of life. connected. grounded. here. alive.

a word came to mind as i walked home to my little nest: sprout. i feel like a little sprout. a sprout even as i grieve a loss unlike any other (bella's death) and as i heal the wounds from all that has come tumbling down in these early decades of my life. i know i will break free (sprout!) from the weight of the concrete and rubble of years and years and years of heartache, loss and sadness.

i've been getting power-full glimpses of this lately. moments when i feel something like hope. something like spring. something like being on the edge of a miracle. something unlike anything (or, at least with a texture unlike anything) i've ever felt. so grateful am i. as i enter this new month. this month of bella's physical death. bella: my great love, my darling babe, my sister, my friend.

i know (intellectually) i will be okay. it is something else entirely to feel that i will be okay, that life and living, that my life and my living will be okay, brilliant, even. it seems, the depth of my grief and brokenness is giving birth to a healing equal in proportion.

before coming here to write tonight i opened up one of my favorite books, The Soul Support Book by Deb Koffman, to a spread with an orange background. at the center of this spread is a panel/series of images of buds. the last panel contains the image of one of these buds bursting open. underneath it all are these words: "Everything happens in its own time." yes, yes. yes, indeed.