being human,  embodiment,  writing

An Invitation

I find myself in a place I know well—a place of seeking less, a place of letting go, a place of learning to simplify. It’s a place I know well because I return to it regularly, mostly because I forget along the way. Life, it seems to me, is a series of forgetting and remembering—even some of our core qualities, the essence of who we are and who we want to be in the world.

In my life I’ve had major periods of growth as well as stretches of lifeless living—periods of time where I’ve been completely disconnected from who I am and where I’m going. Life changes all the time but while some of the change is initiated from within, from a knowing place, other times it is unconscious. I’m pretty sure I’m in a period of being fully (mostly) connected to life and spirit which, perhaps, explains why I KNOW where I want to go without knowing with my brain. It is in my body—in my bones and in my breath. And the place I want to go isn’t a place at all; it’s a state of being; it’s an attunement to the aliveness that is already here.

But first: Letting go. Surrendering. Simplifying. I have too much stuff …. belongings, services, mental drag, non-necessary demands I place on myself …. just too much, of everything, really. So I’m in a place of letting things go. So many things. Things I never thought I’d let go of—things I was too scared to let go of. Until now.

I’m learning to become the me I always thought I’d be, the me I always wanted to be but was too afraid, the me that doesn’t need to control every. damn. thing. because it’s an illusion anyway. I’m letting go of beliefs that no longer serve me. I’m letting go of expectations—of myself and others. I’m letting go of constant thinking, incessant talking and the need to judge people and situations as either good or bad.

Instead of the habitual movement toward constant doing, I’m inviting deeper presence, asking ‘why?’ more often and gently returning to the me inside of it all, the deeper me that has no beginning and no end. It’s enough. She’s enough, because she is held by something so much deeper than herself.