What is my grain, currently? Currently, I am afraid. I hold back. I let myself off the hook, and rather easily. I can work hard as a mother, as a daughter, as a wife, as someone who takes care of her home, as someone who works with myself toward greater growth and transformation. I have even shown I can work hard at being a middle-aged student. But—I don’t work hard at my desires—my desires to become a published writer, to be a business owner with any one of my good ideas. I also don’t work hard at making my overweight body healthier even though I have high blood pressure and thyroid issues. I guess we all have our weak spots. Here are mine.
The issue is I could get by with only working in the places I am strong, until now. Now, I face a body that has to get healthier or it will only continue its decline. Now, I face another fork in the road—follow my desires that are still very much alive inside of me or not. Both choices, right now, terrify me. All week I have faced myself in these weak places and mostly, I’ve been resentful. I resent the inertia I have created. It’s a tangled mess of weakness, fear, anxiety and doubt. It’s a place that has been accumulating for 20+years. It’s a place I have been avoiding for at least that long, and have always known is there.
On the bright side, yesterday, on a walk in one of my sacred spaces I could actually feel myself aligning with my desires. I know it’s time to walk through the tangled mess, fight and claw and probably love my way through until I stop for a moment and realize: I’m through. And, I’m through with doubting my abilities. I’m through with questioning the desires of my soul. I’m through worrying if my actions make a difference or not or where they may or may not take me. I’m through with anxiety clouding my intuition and instincts that move my desires forward. But, I’m not through yet. I’m still here, doubting, questioning, worrying—and still, moving forward anyway.
It’s so easy to distract from what we should not. It’s so easy to turn the page when we, instead, need to take a minute to grieve. My best friend died on my father’s birthday in 1999. She stood up … Continue reading →
The surface is ice and does not move- much like the way I’ve become. Yet beneath, the water keeps moving. It maintains it’s aliveness- much like I am.
It has been a while since I have posted on this blog. There hasn’t been much time for reflection and for writing much more than school papers. I decided to go back to college in the fall for social work. I also work and maintain the other responsibilities I have had most of my life: kids, home, relationships. But— I had two weeks off for the holidays and I have a month off from school. It took a week or more, but soon the Voice Inside was heard.
This didn’t just happen, however. I had to ask to hear it again. I had to desire the chaos in my head to dissipate a bit and I had to take a walk. I went right to the Mississippi River. Immediately I noticed the ice that formed. The lack of movement- the complete lack of moment frightened me. It seemed like death. But then, beyond the ice, a patch of moving water could be seen. This brought hope and became a metaphor for what I’ve noticed about myself, but could not be fully seen in the busyness of my life—on the surface I seem unchanged—that I am not growing. That a certain kind of death has snuck in and I have become stagnant and at times, icy. But even when this seems true, underneath life still flows. There is an aliveness that exists that is never stagnant or stuck. There is a presence that is fearless in the face of pain and suffering and love and life and doesn’t ice over and become numb.
There is more I could write, but this is a good start to warm the waters I suppose,
The Soul Reporter.
Happy 2015. May we all have many more moments where we see what is beneath the surface.