The last 2 weeks have been riddled with large and significant stresses. Messy gifts from the universe. In their wake(s), I am learning that no matter how much comes, I can handle it. I am capable. Might I sit down on the floor for a minute and spoon sunflower butter into my mouth while I contemplate whether I have time to cry my face off or not? Sure, but I am handling it.
To stay afloat, I am getting up early, and working hard to focus my intent where I will it to go – Essentially away from the catastrophe and soul suck of the things we can distract ourselves in while missing the point entirely. You know, the blaming, shaming, elaborate escape planning, the talking trash, victim thinking and the ugly fuss. Because when you are handed an awkward landscape of things you have little control over, the point is this – we need only sit with it a minute, quell our reactivities, accept what we are wired to fight/ignore/defend ourselves against, and plan our strategy. Don’t climb over it, run around it, or construct an elaborate webscape of glorious ladders and acrobatic swings – just thoughtfully, gracefully, tenaciously, plan.
My family is healthy, my children are happy, and my home is full of love. The rest is just the chaos of a busy world. This morning I sat with a cup of coffee, in the quiet of my house – before the children woke up, after my husband left for work, and I prepared myself for the day. These days, I am choosing to take it in stride, do what needs to be done, and make some hard calls. It is empowering and equally terrifying. I feel safe in the knowledge that I am capable. I am being brave against fears of rejection, judgment, and a flawed feeling that I am imperfect. Those are not my truths.
From this place, I moved pencil over a piece of good, bright rose, card stock paper – which I unearthed from a pile of craft clippings and supplies my daughter had “art on fire” mowed through last evening. I wrote what I know to be true, and what will guide me in my purpose to stay calm, centered, and strong today.
First, I can only provide what I have to offer. I know my limits. I am ethical. I can’t be or do what every person I encounter wants or needs. If I do not have the answer, I can help the seeker broaden his or her search. I honor the path of discovery. This is not failure.
I can be gentle and assertive. Sadly, I cannot prevent others’ reactions, though I am always kind in my approach. Avoiding hard conversations, that are necessary, to avoid provoking a reaction, serves no one.
Staying in my hub, awake and watchful, collected and calm, does not make the stresses go away, but it protects me from being used up by them.
Through the last days’ challenges, I have found I am part of a collective reservoir of love, compassion, and strength. I have peeked in there, and am just beginning to understand how deep this pool truly is. Now that I have seen it, I know it’s not capable of being empty – though sometimes, often, its tributaries become blocked. So, when it has dwindled down to a trickle or even a noisy drip-drip-drip through me, only I hold the key to deconstructing the dam and adjusting the flow. And I hold only the key to my flow. Thus, my simple responsibility is to keep the magic moving though my being. I can do that.
