There are so many reasons to be concerned. We are concerned about having so many concerns and judge others for their concerns because they don’t jibe with what we think are the real concerns and we get concerned about that.
You know why we keep hearing that whisper, the one that keeps us up at night? Because we are meant to do important things with our lives. That whisper is God/Universe/Shakti/Soul directing you to your inner fire.
Anne Lamott says to write a book one must take it bird by bird. To build a nest a bird must do it twig by twig. We will do it the same way this little bird did – with love and perseverance, brick by brick, stone by stone, and heart by heart.
I have had some breakthroughs during quarantine. It is as if one part of my psyche said to the other parts, “Her distractions are gone y’all. She’s doing great right now so this is the best time to bring up all of our issues. Let’s meet tomorrow, make a list, and present it to her over the next week.”
This week I came up against the same block every day and I was terrifically frustrated. I dug in and gave it all I had but that only seemed to make it worse, with stilted words cracking across the page in wont of meaning. I cannot write with heart when the walls are up and I was reminded of that this week.
I think it is because we know, and the knowing is becoming louder. I think that there is sorrow at the calling that we are not answering. When we know enough to hear the call but not enough to have a plan, that is when comfort, apathy, and terror keep us there in the place where everything turns grey. To leave anything can be terrifying, even a move down the street.
With such a lack of distraction these past weeks, I have been curious to see what would arise in my now smaller world. All of those excuses justifying the endless reasons why I did not write every day, prioritize meditation or prayer, take a walk in nature, stretch, spend an hour on the phone with a friend, were atomized overnight.
I wrote this because I see myself in you, especially my younger self. Wrapped in beautiful things but filled with such interesting juxtapositions of dark and light. Behind the scrim, a woman on her knees in gratitude, wisdom, strength, sorrow, love, and depth. Such depth.
Are you growing weary? I have had my moments too. As the sense of security slips away and the illusion of control transfers to a very clean kitchen and too many loaves of baked bread, I have had moments of a sort of existential tenuity.
What has come up in this time is an investigation into my urge to help others versus my human need for self-preservation and the wish to fulfill my own obligations to myself and do my work. When can I be selfish and when should I be helpful?
What is calling you in this time? Can you make a clearing for the hearing to catch those subtle sounds, the ones that require you to be quiet enough to hear? I implore you to listen, especially right now.
