Here I am. I’m finally showing up after all the things I’ve said and done. I haven’t been living up to my written words. I’ve been tired and overwhelmed, caught up in no emergencies, but everyday life. All of a sudden, or so it seemed, I realized that I was stressed, smothered and snowed under. What other s word can I think of?
Here’s the thing. I had to stand back and let things go. I did get up, dress up and show up. What I couldn’t do was the doing part. I still held this space in my thoughts. Empty spaces are necessary. Silence has its beauty. We all need a break for something new to come in. I’m glad for having given myself this stretch of emptiness and silence. I’m more restful and peaceful now. My head was screaming and screeching something fierce. It took me a long time to hear it.
These last few days of October have been beautiful. The blue skies, the sunshine, the autumn leaves. I felt one with the universe. Sheba and I enjoyed longer afternoon walks, drinking and storing the ambience for lesser days. I’m making hay while the sun shines. I’m learning to take the good fortune when the opportunity comes. I’m learning to let go when I need to.
Thanksgiving Monday. All is well. The snow is falling gently on the spruce trees. The Buddhas sits unperturded, breathing in and out, beneath their branches. The earth is in repose, having worked hard all these days. I hear its rhythmic breathing along with the Buddhas. I do likewise. In 1 2 3 4. Hold 1 2 3 4 5 6 7. Out 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8. It’s so restful. Letting it all go.
For all the talk about letting go, I’ve just come to understand what it means. I suppose it’s the same with so many things. As we grow older, gathering moss and wisdom, our perceptions shift along with our body parts. We are the same and yet not the same. I see that now. There’s no need to berate myself for being stupid, dumb and all the other things. If I had known better back then, I would have done better then. But I didn’t. So here I am now. Resting. Restoring. Relaxing.
I’m giving thanks for the life I have. I’m grateful for this journey of hardships and wonderment. Sometimes it’s difficult for me to grasp that I was born a village girl in China, delivered by a midwife at home. Born but with no piece of paper called a birth certificate. I, myself am testament enough. Look at where I am now. Maybe that’s why I rant so much. I’ve been crying, I’m here! I’m here! all my life. It is to be heard. I like to say I will rant no more, but that’s most unlikely.
But I AM understanding and knowing about letting go. I’m learning from nature. Every year when it is time, the trees let go of their leaves, the flowers give up their blooms to seeds. The plants and animals go into hibernation. Now, when it is time for me to let go of ‘stuff’, I close my eyes and see myself as a tree, dropping its leaves. I hear Nat King Cole singing, Autumn Leaves.
My most difficult journey is the present one. The how of starting is always the first stumbling block. It is the cue to think back to my ancestor, Lao Tzu. He said that a journey of a thousand miles start with a single step. I step forward tentatively – one word, then two…I’m on my way. My most difficult journey is also my inner one. The one with lofty goals, the one which I hold myself to impossibly high principles, the one which I do not allow for mistakes, the one with no detours. It is the one that I, inevitably, have come to a dead end.
I’ve been at the crossroad for some time now. I’m sitting here contemplating my options. Which way are you going to go, Lily? is singing in my head. I know that I can only go forward. There’s no backtracking in life. I’m taking my time, dwelling in the quiet, listening to the beat of my heart. What is it telling me? I no longer trust other voices telling me this and that. They do not have my best interests at heart even though they sincerely believe so. I cannot hold them at fault. I am probably guilty of the same.
I’m watching the shadows on the wall, sipping my peppermint tea. It is peaceful here. I have time. It is a good place to linger and rest awhile. I’ve had a full and wonderful day. I swam 13 laps or 26 lengths this morning. Somehow 26 lengths sound more impressive. I’m pleased and proud of myself. I’m still holding myself accountable of doing my best of the day, living up to my commitments of showing up for the Ultimate Blog Challenge and staying the course of a healthy physical and mental diet.
I’m in a quagmire of procrastination. Caught in stagnation of unable or no desire to go forward, sideways or backwards. So here I sit, hoping to tap away my blues. Don’t get me wrong. I might sound morose and am feeling morose, but I’m A-okay. It’s the flux and flow of my nature. It’s what’s out there in the universe. It’s what’s in me. Sometimes there are blue skies. Sometimes there’s not. There’s cycles of the seasons. There’s the cycles of me.
I’ve been navigating my ship for awhile now. I’ve learned the ropes, when to ease and trim the sails. I’ve read the manuals and chartered the course. There are times when there are too many storms. I’m blown off course and/or too fatigued. I’ve allowed myself extra time and more rest. It feels as if I’m stuck but I’m just going at a different pace, in a different direction. I’m going with the wind.
I’m feeling a little better, a little unstuck. I’m learning not to fight the nature of things. Everything in good time. The world is still spinning around and around. I don’t need to. I can sit and stay for awhile.