Risk

At the prompting of Patti Digh (and life, and timing, and the universe), I'm doing one thing every day for 37 Days, and sharing that journey here. You can read about what I'm doing in this post.

And then the day came,
when the risk
to remain tight
in a bud
was more painful
than the risk
it took
to Blossom
~ Anais Nin

Resistance, resistance, struggling - but I just don't feel like writing. I'm tired of being on the computer! It's boring, anyway. No one cares. Do you think anyone cares?

I'm coming to find, it's less about the revealing of me, and more about the clever ways I can continue to remain hidden.

Because if I stay hidden, then I can stay safe. I can remain in my bubble, and not be touched by others - because, ultimately, connection with others leads to pain. Why would I want that?

That belief: "Connection to others means pain" was revealed to me during some intense coaching I experienced last summer. Since last summer, after being thrown for a loop and acting out in old ways - spending money I didn't really have, allowing the house to get ever messier - I kind of unplugged from connection.

I'd come out every now and then, but overall, I've stayed deep within. Stayed home more, asked for help less (with getting rides and things).

It's been an exercise in deep connection with the boys, because I can even keep myself "safe" from connection with them, too: staying on the computer when they're speaking to me, not making eye contact, thinking of a million different things rather than BEing with them when we're together.

That was the first thing I noticed, how I can still hide from them. So, the first thing I started changing. It's like a spiral, I've mostly been connected with them - but this is on an even deeper, more honest level. It's like - running toward them, connect, run away, run toward, connect even deeper. Since that session that kicked my ass last year? Lots of running, some connection. So, over the past few weeks, I've really been focusing on being present with them. Making what they're asking for a priority, whether it's a sandwich or snuggle time or a book or to share a youtube video.

It feels thrilling, this deeper presence. What strikes me most is, I'm Safe. It's OK. It's really OK, and better than OK.

It's how we were meant to live, and how I so rarely remember that.

I'm afraid something happened when I was little to make that belief - connection = pain - be what has dictated my choices, without my even knowing that. I am afraid if I open more, connect more, I'll reconnect with that initial pain.

I have to remember that even if I do, I'm safe now. I'm OK now. I'm 43, a grown-up, with a grown-up's power and choices in the world. Not only can I keep myself safe, I can keep my little self safe, too.

Pema Chodron has said, 'Typically what happens when we experience pain is that our habit of avoiding pain gets stronger, or the pain gives birth to other sorrow-producing habits based on the fiction that there's something wrong. But when you taste experience fully... the doorway opens into what I would call "a timeless now."'

She means - feel it. Feel the pain. Stop creating distractions from it.

So, I'll keep writing, even if it's stupid or boring. I'll be gentle with myself. I'll love those around me.

I'll keep blossoming, into the timeless now.