Big Enough to Hold the Now

I’ve always prided myself on my adaptability, on my flexibility. Today I am seeing this word: Resilience—bouncing back after a setback or surprise.  That set me to pondering the difference between flexibility and resilience.

I’m flexible. I can bend and shift, stretch and shape myself to fit into many situations and relationships. I’m discovering that isn’t always a healthy thing. I see that by doing that in my life I have often given up my own shape to make room for another’s.

Being resilient, I am noticing, retains my own boundaries; my own desires and needs while taking into account what is happening around me. Being resilient is a response to the present moment, to the now. Adaptability looks at the past and takes that into account in shaping who I am now.

I’m not saying that one is more important or necessary than the other. This is a both/and situation. Yes, I can look at the past, but recognizing that the past is Not Now, my resilience in bouncing back to a balance and stability that can navigate the now gives me the opportunity to learn from the past and maintain those boundaries that serve me and my relationships in health and safety.

In energy healing I am encouraged to experience a container that is big enough to hold all the emotions present in the now, whether they are exacerbated by my own past experiences or are being expressed by the other and I am feeling them empathically.  Having resilience makes it possible to take some of those “learned behaviors” from the past that have shaped my container in less than healthy ways and stay aware to the fact that I am big enough to hold the Now.

Building Sacred Space

When I turned 50 I was guided to build a labyrinth in my backyard. It was a 7-circuit classic Labyrinth. I outlined the path with small, white marble chips. Lo and behold, the earth rose up over those chips creating an embossed effect. It was as if the Earth embraced the pattern becoming one with it.

That labyrinth was green, moist and mossy. The one I am building here in Pennsylvania, exactly 10 years later, is brown, dry and dusty. There was a perfect spot for it in the woods next to my house—one of those wonderful glades I am attracted to. A little bit smaller than the spot in my backyard, this space will hold a 5-circuit labyrinth.

It’s like a magnet. Even as I create it, I am drawn to it. It’s like the land is thirsty for the water of my emotion. The labyrinth radiates peace and safety, and I find, as I did before, that my day must start grounded in this Sacred Space.

A Return to Wholeness

I was meditating on the prayer I shared with you last week. May I be “found by wholeness . . .” For me, the concept of wholeness is multi-faceted. I am whole when I consider my mind, my body and my spirit. I am whole when I allow myself to reflect the Divine. I am whole when the choices I make also reflect this connection to Wholeness on all levels.

Supporting this wholeness, and creating the environment to surround me is a life-long endeavor. My body needs light, air, food and water. But we are becoming more and more aware that it makes a difference if the air is pure and the food is organic and not genetically modified. It makes a difference if I can go out and relax in nature, relieving the stress of this modern-day life, if only for a time.

Creating a new choice for the environment within—one that feeds my mind and spirit is just as important. A positive attitude and a faith-based intention have been shown to heal. Doing good works and having integrity also creates an environment that is conducive to something new.

Carolyn Eberle writes: “Freedom comes when your wholeness is a consistent force you can tap in to for support.” When I find myself weighed down by patterns of behavior learned through pain, abandonment and betrayal, I re-member that letting down my defenses allows me, once again, to be open to be found by Wholeness.

Letting Go of Dead Certainties

It was foggy today; so foggy that I couldn’t even see the house next door. I was certain that it was there though.

I sat outside to do my meditation and that’s when I noticed the spider webs. There were webs everywhere—on the grass, in the plants, in the trees—bejeweled webs, made visible by sparkling drops of dew.

Curious that a limitation can be so revealing!

When Mom was dying, a friend gave her a prayer. Mom read it and gave it to me saying, “This sounds more like your kind of prayer.” She was right:

“Gentle me,

Holy One.

Into an unclenched moment,

A deep breathe,

A letting go

Of heavy expectancies,

Of shriveling anxieties,

Of dead certainties.

That, softened by the silence,

Surrounded by the light,

And open to the mystery,

I may be found by wholeness,

Upheld by the unfathomable,

Entranced by the simple,

And filled with the joy

That is you.”

The Space Between

I am always drawn to the space between. Whether it is a sunlit glade in the woods, or the stillness that lies between each breath, that creation has always caught me. That beauty, I have found, illuminates my soul.

Often these moments of stillness or clarity come when I am in  nature. They can arise from poetry or artistic beauty, or relationships as well.

"One moment of your breath

Holds the emptiness of eternity

And I find the Beloved in the space

Between our lips." 

 This space between has the power to transform expectation into contemplation. It can turn my push into the gentle touch of I Am, and it is Enough. D.H. Lawrence writes:

"This is what I believe.

That I am I.

That my soul is a dark forest.

That my known self will never be more than a little clearing in the forest."

 And it is in that light-filled opening that our greatness is called forth. It is here, in our stillness, that we find ourselves full of grace.

Centering

No matter how much my mind is paying attention, it is only when I am ready, when I am drawn to the right place at the right time, that the universe reveals herself to me. Hmm . . . So my focus is on centering rather than awareness or revealing. Secrets, no awareness, (can I say truth?) is here. When I am centered or vibrating in openness—this is what releases the awareness.

Standing at the doorway—and crossing the threshold. Liberation—and release. It’s not even about learning or growing or expanding. It’s about disappearing into the oneness—like the shadows disappear at high noon. Are there really no shadows? No, they still exist, only in this moment they are transcended.

This then supports the importance of a spiritual practice—a path, a place, an exercise in centering. Experiencing my core essence, the seat of my soul in every cell of my body. It is here that what is false is stripped away and I become honest in the face of my strengths and weaknesses. In this moment I open to trust myself to take the next step—the next breath—releasing “patterns of deception”, as Angeles Arrien would say.