Welcome to a very human post from me.
Sometimes I am strong, resilient and unshakeable. And other times, I want to be held and told I am enough and that everything I am experiencing right now is normal. I want tears and feelings to be easy. I want to be one of those people who loves vulnerability and exposure. Oh wait.. they don’t exist; because we are human and we hate that shiz. By nature we are designed to pull back from pain in order to preserve life.
Ironic how life to be lived and not just survived requires us to sink into the vague, uncontrolled and timeless of feeling.
Sometimes I can write as if the secrets of the universe are imprinted in the synapses of my brain and sometimes, I want to crawl into the foetal position until the fear that’s gripping me takes its effing leave.
I grasp at books, articles, people, music – any sign at all, to remind me I am going to be okay. In my head, I give a serving to the friends who aren’t mind reading and coming to save me. I curse my strength.
In the midsts of this haze, I have the truth. The universal principle of impermanence settles me. This storm inside of me will pass. Might feel like eating glass, but it will pass.
I relax just a little and sit back. I feel the urge to run soften as I trust a little more. I remember what it takes.
Staying. Compassion. Kindness. Curiosity. Observation.
That’s it. That is what surrender looks like.
Not running. Not trying to fix or fight. Just hanging out in the tornado.
Sometimes, I can feel the tears burning in my throat, wanting to bubble out and pour down my cheeks, cleansing the bullshit stories of “you’re gonna fuck this up!” or “who do you think you are?”.
I feel my guts tighten and churn as today’s breakfast moves north, reacting to my attention which has been snagged in fear. My energy and emotions obeying accordingly. Crippling worthlessness.
My mind wants to find a solution, because, it is the mind and it thinks that it can control something as wild and chaotic as our human motions.
But no, alas, the energy of emotions cannot be contained, controlled, boxed, bypassed, or figured out. They need to be felt. Ahh.. I know. GROSS. I want anything but to feel. I want to figure it out, the puzzle. I want the lesson, I want to be able to journal or meditate, or run or cry and be rid of it.
“That’s not how human-ing works, Amber”, I remind myself.
That is called running. It is a foolish and vain version of a life.
It is wise, wild and extraordinarily courageous to smile at the darkness and invite it for a cuppa. Knowing neither of you are going anywhere until you kiss and surrender, together.
Oh, the romance.
Life versus survival is the chase of fleeting pleasure versus digging deep for the strength to sit and let this uncomfortable part of life move through you.
Sitting is a skill. Staying is an art.
So here I will sit. In it. The middle. One foot in alignment, stillness, confidence and inspiration and the rest navigating through fear. Fully alive. Being a human.