Day 22: Gratitude beyond measure

Divine mother Kuan Yin

Last night, I prayed to the divine mother to lift the heaviness that's been at my back and to let me take the steps I need to take. 

I got all humble. I spoke out loud. I asked nicely - not too beggy, but most definitely heartfelt. I offered myself to her. I was grateful in advance. 

Unnamed divine mother
(equally divine, obvs)

This morning, a lightness in my body and in my heart. Still sleepy and slow, but what a difference! No paralysis. A different filter altogether. New eyes. 

I'm beyond grateful for this. I'm beside myself, but in a 'still there' way. Thanks for the listening ears of source (not sauce - sauce-ears not practical) and for the holding. I'm VERY grateful indeed. 

Step time.

Day 21: Phooooo

Phooo. This is what is. This is what demands to be worshipped today. 

Deeper, wider, less forgiving is my mental river

I'm holding onto gratitude like a boat-smashed swimmer clings to a makeshift raft.  The eyes I'm seeing through paint it as a hunk of deck that just about holds my weight and the irony is that gratitude is a speedboat, a hovercraft, a beautifully crafted tallship, a spaceship, even, that can carry a city of people to safety, or a whole planet.

Perception is a beast of a thing. It is reality - in that it's as real as reality gets. Do you remember those 70s walls made out of glass squares? I feel like I'm looking at life through one of those walls now. You could just about tell if there was someone standing on the other side, but only if the light was right. 

Pema Chodron in a hat

And I haven't posted for a while, which never helps. There's a sanity in writing, whether it's worthy of being written or not, whether it's useful, good, valid text or shit-in-a-bag, laughable titwank that shouldn't be formed into sentences. It doesn't matter. Writing it matters, to me, anyway, and knowing I'm going to press the Publish button and share it. There's something about its publicness that gives it power, and that breathes life into it. 

Pema Chodron teaches a whole workshop based on the hopi elders' prophecy about pushing off into the middle of the river  (I've pasted it right at the bottom of the post, if you want to read it). I think I'm an edge-clinger. I don't think I've pushed off. 

The workshop suggests that pushing off into the middle is counter-intuitive, challenging and terrifying - there is no guarantee of safety there - but that holding on is the most painful. It's still a fight and a challenge, but a lonely one that can never be anything but a battle.

The river's flow, even though it flows too fast and takes you over rocks and rushing over weirs, is flow nevertheless. It's possible to relax and let its power carry you. Holding on is thankless and futile. In time the bank too will have gone or changed its shape. And in the middle are the other brave souls who have taken the leap. 

It's not a pretty sight, the realisation that my courage has scuttled off to hide. Not pretty, but no doubt useful. I'm not entirely sure what to do with it right now, or which direction to turn its face in when I coax it out of hiding. All I can do is trust. 

Relief?

Trust that this fighting has been the right thing up till now; that there is a place for me there, or somewhere. That even if I hold on until earth I'm clinging onto heads off to the middle of the river before I do, there is still value in it, and the water will take me when I finally let go. 

And pray. Pray for the courage and the heart to take the leap, to let the cleansing happen, even if I might drown in the process. Trust and prayer. And hopefully, somewhere, a little bit of fucking humour, please. 


Here is a river, flowing now very fast.
It is so great and swift that there are those who will be afraid;
willing to cling to the shore.
They are being torn apart and will suffer greatly.
Know, that the river has its’ destination.’
The elders say, ‘Let go of the shore.
Push our way into the middle and keep our heads above water.’
They also say, ‘See who is there with you and celebrate.
At this time in history, the time of the lone wolf is over.
Gather yourselves.
Banish the word struggle from your vocabulary.
All that we do now must be done in a sacred manner and in celebration;
for we are the ones we have been waiting for.