Watching the sunrise is such an awe-inspiring experience. I hope you enjoy this and are inspired to walk into the world today with your heart leading the way!
After a life-shifting trip, I am missing the beautiful sunrises and sunsets on the Nile, so got up before dawn and moseyed myself down to the beach to catch this beautiful site. I am allowing the sun, Ra, to warm my heart and soul. I wish the same for all of you!
This thought came to me today as I was on the beach searching for shells….”a balance between busy and be…busy and bee…like the busy bee that I seem to be and how it is often a challenge to find the balance between being busy busy busy and just allowing myself to be.
I realized about six weeks ago that I had become busy in my life again…and I thought I was happily busy. I love doing all that I am doing – running my own tutoring and mindfulness business for youth and adults, writing, creating materials, spending time with my family and friends….but there was something amiss once again…and I couldn’t see it right away. I kept hearing my friends saying that I was busy…and a little bell chimed in the back of my mind….I heard it clearly..it was a faint ding, somewhere far off in a world I thought I’d left behind.
As a public school educator and short-term building administrator, I lived my life for my profession, saw it as my identity, my livelihood, my existence, and purpose in this lifetime. After thirty years in brick and mortar schools that had changed so much, I finally realized it was time to change my outlook on my purpose, and see how that might unfold. I was blessed to be able to take a year of leave from work to make some decisions about my future and realized that education is my purpose, but it was in need of a different container.
Now that it’s been two and half years of creating my own business and working part-time with younger students, I find myself busy, busy,busy again, and have lost the time to just be. I have lost the time to be with my friends for longer periods of time than between 12:30 and 2:30 or just hang out for an entire day with my husband. I have lost the time to just be with me…in the woods, on the beach, on a trail, exploring the unknown and creating with colors and objects, and doing all the other things I love to do.
I am grateful for the times I have been sitting in meditation again and have had the presence of mind to turn my mind off and let my body feel. Within those times of feeling, words come…and specific ones at that. I was able to hear that it was okay to cut back at my part time teaching job and eventually to pass it on to someone else. I only have a few more weeks of this busy bee time, but am reminding myself to find ways to “be” in each day as I wait for the extra time in my days as I move forward. I stop and sit, look around at the beauty I see outside. I walk in the grass in my bare feet, look longer into my husband’s eyes, stretch my body….
I am surprised at how much “I know” and how much I do that is unknown, seeing myself creep back into the behaviors of a workaholic that I used to be. I thought I’d “moved past that” but am reminded that the old adage “old habits die hard” is a force on its own. As I move forward, I strive to make my life a true balance between “busy and be.” My jodibees – a hive of learning will continue to be a success and I’m sure even more so as I allow myself the times to be. I look forward to this next chapter of my life and hope I can help others continue to find this balance as well.
I am Orange
A Unique Concoction of Red and Yellow
Crimson, Flaming
Golden, Lemony
Fierce and Bright
Blended and Connected
Grounded in Action
My Core, my Nucleus
Fiercely Loyal
In Dynamic Fluctuation
Aspiring Creativity
Purposeful Passion
Juicy, Sweet
A freshly picked Cantaloupe
I am Orange
A scream….footsteps…I spring to my feet looking in all directions as my heartbeat increases to meet the urgency of the distress. I quickly walk to the back door of my Montessori preschool classroom. Before I get there, in rushes an assistant ushering in a frightened little one. With blood on his lower lip and tears streaming down his face, I understand at once that the previous fun of his loose tooth has turned its own corner. From fun to frightened after another boy’s elbow found his mouth while playing.
The handoff from assistant to teacher is complete and I grab a cup of cold water and ice pack . I hope to help alleviate the blood flow and even a bit of the pain. Still crying hysterically, I guide the wounded soldier into a chair all the while hearing through the sobs, “I don’t like this.” We chat briefly about how growing up is exciting and sometimes a challenge. When I hear him say once again through loud sobs and short, rapid breaths, “But I don’t like this,” my mindfulness toolbelt magically appears before my eyes.
This young man has practiced deep breathing and meditation with his classmates throughout this school year, so when I ask him to take a deep breath in, I watch him close his eyes. This alone makes me smile. Before closing mine, I ask him if he’d like us to hold hands while we breathe together. He nods, eyes still shut and I follow suit. We breathe in unison; his tears stop flowing and his breath lengthens.
Opening our eyes, I ask him if he’d like to try a new strategy to help him stay with this peaceful feeling inside. Having our breath work be such a success, he readily agrees. I teach him how to do the Emotional Freedom Technique (EFT), otherwise known as tapping. We go through the process together, saying things like, “Even though my tooth is falling out and I don’t like it, I am okay” and “Even though I don’t like the feeling in my mouth right now, I am safe.”
Somewhere in there… I had phoned his mother to pick him up (about 15 minutes early) and she is now at the door. In my experience, when an upset person appears calm and then sees a loved one, the floodgates start or reoccur. That’s what I’ve done in the past myself! To my surprise, this was not the case. He ran to his mom and hugged her, just holding on to his pure first love, feeling the safety of her embrace.
I’d like to think the breathing and tapping put him into such a peaceful space that he not only felt safe and okay, but truly felt it. I’m still smiling….
This is one of my favorite meditations. My version is adapted from various others I have experienced.
By repeating a series of statements, or mantras, either silently or aloud, the meditator will mentally send happiness, warmth, kindness and compassion to others as well as to themselves. When practicing this meditation, you may feel your heart fill with joy, an increase in your self-worth, increased empathy for others and so much more! You may even feel your mouth curl upward!
I always like to settle into myself as I prepare myself to meditate. I may close my eyes and connect with my breath, or place my feet firmly into the ground or onto the floor, feeling the connection of my body to the earth. However you like to begin a meditation, do so.
When you are ready, repeat these statements silently or aloud:
For you:
May I be happy.
May I be peaceful.
May I be well.
May I live with ease.
Thinking of another person you feel neutral about (a grocery cashier, bus driver…):
May you be happy.
May you be peaceful.
May you be well.
May you live with ease.
Thinking of another person you have negative feelings about:
May you be happy.
May you be peaceful.
May you be well.
May you live with ease.
Thinking of the world:
May we all be happy.
May we all be peaceful.
May we all be well.
May we all live with ease.
You may repeat these as many times as you’d like, or say them just once if you’d like. Whatever you choose to do will be the right thing for you at that moment.
A quick dart seen from the corner of my eye, I turn to see if I saw something go by. I look to the right, the left, up and down, All the way down to my feet and up to my crown. What is the motion that caught my attention? My head is spinning, was it my mind’s invention? There it is again, but now it’s still as can be, The first hummingbird of spring is what I see!
I have names for the two bookends in my life. Some may call them husband and daughter. I call them Rex and Miranda. They are the bookends that hold me up, keep me in their minds and hearts, hold me up on the shelf of life. I am a treasured book of a person. I am important. I am special. They make me feel like my words have meaning, are of value, others will want to ingest my words for thought and consideration.
These bookends hold me up in so many ways. It’s been more than a year since I began my business and I am reflecting back on the beginning days. My bookends were hard at work supporting me, not only in heart, but in action. I recall hearing a knock at the back door of the building I started in. It’s my younger book, Miranda. She found a couple of wall hangings and a table that she thought I could use and was hauling them up the stairs and through the hallway for me. I then looked out the window and saw my older bookend, Rex. He was hauling a heavy container filled with sand with a mounted, brand new mailbox. Not only had he cut a wooden post and mounted the mailbox, he designed a container sturdy enough for our town’s requirements. When I went out to see him and look at all the wonderful work he did, I saw that he even placed number stickers on the mailbox for the address. That specific detail, although important, could easily have been overlooked. These bookends support this book, me. They are like a hug, wrapping their supportive arms around me.
My book is open, has been read by many people and has continued to be supported by my bookends. If my words reach others and make a difference that is wonderful. My book, me, will have done its small part to help serve the world. My book is on life’s shelf, ready to be taken off by those who are supposed to read it!
I’m one book or the many millions of books in the world. Each book is unique, has value and is worthy of being supported by loving bookends. Who are the two bookends in your life?
I opened my book “1,001 Ways to Live in the Moment” by Barbara Ann Kipfer and read the Nigerian Proverb: Hold a true friend with both hands.
This really spoke to me. Holding with both hands means being able to give and to receive. Receiving is often the hard part for many of us, and I know it is for me. It recently took me days to ask a friend for some help. As I processed it for the nth time, my husband finally said, ‘You know you’d do the exact same thing for her without hesitating.’ As soon as he said that, I gave myself permission to ask. I continue to work on not only asking for help, but also being able to receive from others. I am learning to give myself that permission more and more.
My mind continued to pop with bubbles of thought. Both hands….masculine and feminine. At what degree do I put action and effort into my friendships? …do I kindly empathize and lovingly support them?
Do I create friendships, occasions, items for my friends? Do I work for these friendships. I so love my dearest friends and feel satisfied with my reflections, but I often want to do more, connect deeper with others and wonder why I don’t. Is it a time factor? A place? The giving up something else in order to do so? I believe that I am always where I am supposed to be and with whom I’m supposed to be with. So, I need to remind myself that it is okay. All is okay. I hold my true friends with both hands – either in the past, present or future, and the amount of times makes no difference. Each interaction is special and meaningful in its own rite, as long as I use both. I will continue to give and be open to receiving all the gifts of friendship I encounter.
Our hands are an extension of our heart. Reach out and receive loving friendships with both hands. They may develop when you least expect them!
Ah….just took care of Little Jodi again – I’m so glad I’m getting good at this Self-Therapy gig I’ve got going! In leaving my safe, yet unfilling, job last year, I recently had to obtain health insurance on my own. I can see why people make the choice to stay in a job that no longer brings them joy because they want health coverage. For me, my decision fell in the direction of daily happiness and knowing that I was meant to do more at this stage in life.
I experienced a step off of my path to Oz into the dark forest with a quick look from my dermatologist to her assistant this week. The doc wanted to biopsy a few spots so I replied that my coverage had changed. She stopped, locked eyes with her assistant. Seeing that, my heart immediately detached from its string and fell, banging off my tin ribs, empty belly, off my shiny pelvis and down my rod iron legs into my right tin boot.
My heart screamed along its way down, “Oh no! What have I done? What if <my husband> has melanoma again? How has my choice hurt my family? Me? Who is going to take care of me? I’m all alone and it’s all my fault!” Tears came to my eyes and my eyelids turned to tin so they wouldn’t close and betray me. No tears would be seen by anyone. I tuned into the doctor’s voice already in response to me.
“….save this for another six weeks and you can see what you’ll have to pay for the biopsies and let us know what you want to do then.” I nodded silently and when they awkwardly departed, I dressed as quickly as possible and hobbled out of there.
Once in the privacy of my car, I let the tears fall and felt my heart make its way back up into my chest. I became aware that this heart was not 55 years old, but only 8 or 9! It was Little Jodi. She was sad and scared, feeling alone and shameful, selfish and confused. Acknowledging that she was the person feeling and expressing all of these emotions, I gently spoke to her explaining that everything will be okay and that the Universe is always taking care of us. I now have a skill set that can handle this adjustment with just a bit of oil from the oil can and she would be taken care of. My outer shell of tin disappeared and I was mobile, flexible and ready for my next steps of the day.
As I rode home, I reflected on Grownup Jodi’s old ways. An old choice I would’ve made was to go home, crawl into bed, feel sad, mad, resentful,…. You name it… because that was comfortable, normal and familiar. I understood that was a coping mechanism that protected me from further negativity, but that I had an entire tool belt full of tools to use now.
I pulled in my driveway, went straight to my gardening gear and worked out in the yard for the afternoon. Moving the leaves, earth, stones and plants allowed me to get out of my head, into my body and feel gratitude for all things in my life. I was so happy that I was able to see the light at the edge of the dark forest and quickly find my feet upon my yellow brick road again.
Wow! That is even hard to type let alone know that I am going to send this out to the public to view, read, and possibly be judged by it. But, it’s true and it’s something that I am finally coming to terms with. When I say coming to terms with, I mean I’m processing it all as I think, cry, write and remember.
I finished reading The Murmur of Bees by Sofia Segovia last night – in between sobs, my nose dripping down my face and deep breaths of agony. How could I keep reading with all of that going on? I just kept swiping at my tears, blowing my nose and refocusing on my kindle. I HAD to know what the character, Francisco, was going to say about the years of resentment he had for his beloved brother. I was Francisco and Francisco was me. I HAD to find out what happened… and what was going to happen to me!
Francisco’s resentment stemmed from feeling abandoned. I felt the same exact way and can recall the first day I felt the first heart-crushing blow as an adult. I was 43 and in a horrible relationship with a narcissistic alcoholic after divorcing my husband of twenty years. On the phone with my mom one night, after breaking it off with him twice and getting back together, she said she wouldn’t be able to speak with me again until I left him. It was too painful for her to know that I was hurting myself in such a way. Of course at the time, I couldn’t see that at all, well, I had an inkling, but always dismissed those feelings because narcissists are really good at manipulation! Anyway, all I felt was that she was shutting the door on me – leaving me alone – turning her back – abandoning me. You’d think such a statement would snap me out of my relationship hypnosis, but that took another six months.
Since my mother had lived on the other side of the country and I didn’t see her often, it was somewhat easy for me to set the betrayal I felt to the side. Of course, it never left me and would come up in my thoughts at night, when I woke in the morning, and when I looked at my daughter who wouldn’t have a grandmother to talk to either. I carried on, finally restarting on my own as a single person, knowing that the typical rebound relationship I was in had to end and I made sure that it did. Even though I called to let my mom know that I had ended the relationship, I never really trusted her not to abandon me again and felt a chasm between us I had never felt before.
The second blow, the one that knocked me to my knees, was the day she said she wouldn’t let me fly her in for my wedding. I was then 47. I found the love of my life, the perfect person for me and she didn’t want to come. She had her reasons, but all I felt was a deep stake in my heart. At that time in my life I hid most of my feelings, said it was okay and hung up the phone. I crumbled to the floor, doubled over in pain. I sat there for a long time crying – hard, angry sobs, gulping for air. For a moment, I actually thought I might stop breathing. Survival instincts won out and I eventually got up on my feet again and carried on like a good little trooper – onward and upward! Ha! Who needed her? I even fooled myself!
For the remainder of her years, which came to an end when I was 53, I continued to feel like she had completely abandoned me – me, my brother, my daughter and my niece and nephew for that matter! But back to me – because that was my focus for all those years – me. Why did she abandon me? What was wrong with me that she didn’t want to see me? Be with me? Be with her granddaughter? Did she not love me like I loved her? Did she not need me like I needed her? I convinced myself that all of these beliefs were true. I loved her. She didn’t love me. I needed her. She didn’t need me. I didn’t leave her. She left me.
In The Murmur of Bees, Francisco held these feelings toward his brother for almost his entire life, until he was a great-grandfather. With a new look he saw things differently and showed me to do exactly the same. I am seeing things anew thanks to this fictional character in a book that I read at the exact time I was supposed to read it.
My mother didn’t abandon me. She knew that I needed to live and learn on my own. She had raised my brother and I as wonderful young adults and had other work to do up on this earth. She had to serve others in a different way than being a mother. I was fortunate to have her in my life for many years. We played, learned, traveled and explored the world together. She encouraged me to be happy in my life, to have confidence and be courageous. She exhibited pride one has when serving for one’s country. She taught me that learning was a key to unlock any door and that sharing my knowledge was valuable as well. She showed my brother and I how to persevere through dark, ugly, awful events and how to come out victorious. She modeled how to set boundaries and that serving the higher good is our life purpose.
She had other work to do and knew that I was on my right path, taken care of and not in need of her any longer. She knew that my learning would not end, but would be done without her. She was called on another path, a path of service. Who was I to think she should only be here for me? To come running when I called? When I stomped my feet and threw a tantrum? She had to follow her inner guidance, her own calling, not my calling for her. She did just that, inspiring and touching people’s lives all over the world in her missionary work. She advocated and cared for people living on inner city streets. They were lucky to have her. My mother had to follow a path that she was driven to walk.
My mom walked her path and I now walk mine. Her passion took her into a direction that I just wasn’t able to see and only saw that it wasn’t toward me. She was never mine to begin with, I was gifted with her as a mother, and a friend, for decades. Instead of gracefully giving her back, letting her move on to her next phase in life, all I could focus on was betrayal and abandonment. I am sorry I didn’t see her living her dreams and being so happy in doing so because I couldn’t see beyond my own needs and desires. I am open to seeing it now, thanks to Francisco.
Thank you, Momma, for being such a light and inspiration in my life. You walked a hard, lonely road in your last years knowing that I didn’t understand your choices and only resented them. In resenting them, I resented you. They were for you, not against me. I do see that now. In seeing this, I ask you for your forgiveness and I forgive myself. I now walk upon my own path of service, following in your footsteps that still linger with me here upon the earth.
Do any of you have your adult children back at home with you due to the current pandemic? This could be a small population of people I guess, but I seem to get asked if the kids are home with my husband and I a lot. One child lives in South Korea and the pandemic is keeping him there. Another lives a few miles down the road, so he’s all set. Our youngest lost her job while living in another state and came home to live when this all began, last April.
What a wonderful gift it has been! Instead of always wondering what’s she doing, if she’s okay, or how she’s feeling, I know. It is so comforting to have that knowledge and makes me happy that my husband and I have this extra time with her. I am going to treasure this gift, focus on this bright light in the shadows of all the illness and fear. I am grateful to have her energy back in the house, her singing in our ears and her smile right when I enter a room!
At least one of our grown-up kids is home again! This is hands-down one of the best bennies of COVID!
A very good friend of mine began a facebook group about one of her passions recently. I loved the idea and so did many people! People are posting and utilizing the platform to share their beautiful garden photos and get questions answered.
I decided that I would do the same and began a facebook group entitled Maturing Mindfully. I was so excited about it and still am.
But here’s the funny thing – my little Jodi (aka inner child) had all these thoughts: Will my friend Courtney think I’m copying her? Am I not being original because of that? Will mine be as popular? Big Jodi started to smile at her little self.
I looked her in her big blue eyes and said, “Follow your heart and do what makes you happy. Remember, imitation is the biggest form of flattery. Ideas are to be shared, and shaped to fit the likes of the creator. You, Jodi, are that creator!” I took her hand in mine and started the group together, happy in mind and in heart! No fears, no worries, just following the yellow brick road to our own version of Oz!
Although our nation’s current situation is extremely sad and quite disturbing in my opinion, seeing my daughter’s passion brought light to the subject. The systemic racism in our country and world is just horrendous.
My “little” girl of 24 years old purchased materials, made signs and found local protests scheduled for the weekend. With signs in our front yard, I watch the many vehicles slow down on this major thoroughfare in our town to read them as they drive by. She turned the sadness she felt these past days into a drive to help stop this inhumanity. As she planned to attend the peaceful protest organized by the Youth Foundation Protest organization, I felt the need to protect her. I volunteered to attend with her, to support her, Black Lives Matter, and keep my protective eyes on my only child. She agreed and I was relieved that I would not need to worry about her while she was walking from Central High School to the State House.
I woke up yesterday to my dear one asking me to speak with her. She shared that she felt that it would be better if I stayed home so she would not need to worry about and protect me! Ah, how the child becomes the parent. I had to let go, to trust, let my birdling fly on her own.
This morning I awake, my heart filled with pride. For so many reasons, I smile.
So I sit here on my couch, at 1:15 am. My feet are propped up and crossed on our coffee table that’s had a long history. (Thirty-plus years ago, my husband and his friend went on a cross country trip and this is one the items he brought home.) Anyway, I sit here wondering Why did I do that?
I awoke to the familiar sound of snoring. I curiously looked up the etymology of snore while writing this. It is from the Middle English for snort. As I picture a hog in his pen, I decide that is a good description of the sounds emitted from his body unbeknownst to him, but quite “beknownst” to me. That body, next to me, trilled with many different snorts – some short, some loud, some that change pitch…I listened for a bit and then began responding to my beloved.
I began to mimic his snores, snorts, sounds. It was as if I was responding to his call. As if we were two birds calling to each other – our very own bird song. I responded to my true love with all the different versions of his call – mimicking each sound back to him. I did this for a few minutes and then smiled and thought Why did I do that? I laughed and popped up out of bed, remembering I the recording I recently made of his snoring. That morning, I let him listen to his beautiful, unique, just meant for me, nightly love song. I wonder what this morning will bring. I’m going back to bed!
Dive into the joyful waters,
See the sun shine above its surface,
Let the rays permeate through the water,
Let its warmth, fire and action envelope you as you dive deeper,
Deeper, into the water’s darkness,
Meet the fear, the worry, the guilt face to face,
As the warm comfort of the sun’s cloak holds you,
Reminds you that it is with you,
You can feel it, it’s always there,
Just above the surface,
Thank the fear, the worry, the guilt for trying to protect you,
Let them know when you need them again,
You will dive down into the darkness to retrieve them,
Joyfully kick your way toward the light again,
Feel the light holding you while emanating from inside,
Your heart sings its song,
Your unique song of desire, action, adventure, courage and love,
The light reminds you of who you really are,
As you kick toward the water’s surface,
Kick, kick, kick,
You are just an arm’s length away from breaking through,
To feel your true self again,
It was always there,
Your heart’s aria calls to the rest of the world,
As you break through the cleansing water,
and remember.
As a leaf blows into the wind, a bud is beginning to form.
“When you lose a second parent you essentially become an orphan,” a friend told me after my mother passed last month. Interesting thought that I’ve been contemplating…. I never considered myself to be an orphan when she passed, although I understand the statement. I did however feel the loss and the loneliness of not having her here on this Earth. It’s interesting that although she lived nearly on the other side of the country, knowing that she was there and happily enjoying the sunshine, warmth and mountains of her favorite state was a comfort to me. I knew she was happy and was where she wanted and needed to be.
In deep gratitude, I have experienced such an enormous amount of love that I haven’t felt like I was alone or on my own. I am reminded that I although my parents and grandparents are no longer on this earth, I have an enormous family, a family full of biology and friendships. We all have this family. We are all connected as one family. We can hold each other up, listen with deep attention, feel with compassion, forgive without apology, and love unconditionally. As I experience loss – deep, heart-wrenching, incapacitating heartache, I also feel the love of my family – those members close and far, biological or not, new or old.
My family is changing, and although I’ve lost, I have gained a family that is ever-expanding.
As a grade eight teacher, some days I’m especially reminded of the harsh world the students live in. Since I primarily work with adolescents struggling in school in some form or the other, I am pretty familiar with the many ways a student suffers on a daily, even minute to minute basis. Sometimes it pains me in such a way, I cry for them, for me, for us, for humanity.
A student’s comment caught me off guard today. As we worked on multi-step Algebra equations, we were also discussing the difficulties of Algebra in general. After saying, “This is really hard work.” The reply was, “If it’s so hard, why can everyone else do it?” My heart broke right then and there, sitting in the classroom, another crack with another student’s name to add to the roster of 30 years. We continued our chat, but I don’t think I was able to turn that student’s thoughts around. Sometimes I just hate math!!
This is the post excerpt.
I am writing…to write…to connect…to learn…to grow…to change.
I have been reflecting on my life and thinking about ways I can spend the next chapter of it. With my many changes, I have been evolving into a person with positive attitudes and growing gratitude. As I connect to others with an open heart, I find myself understanding more about the world and more about myself.
Hope you’ll join me in this adventure!
The Autumnal Equinox officially arrives at 2:50 am on Saturday. It’s on the 23rd in 2023. I love numbers and the number 23 is a path to find your divine passion. Follow you passion to the end and make your life count for all its worth!
A friend, Christina, reminds me to ask myself this question: What am I willing to take action on that I feel passionate about? I love that and am doing just that! How about you?
And what in the world does this picture have to do with the equinox? It’s a time of harvest and my husband’s nephew was married last weekend. We ate this wonderful meal which felt like a true southern harvest! It was made and served by Brother’s N Arms BBQ – a group of vets continuing to serve in a new way! They continue to follow their passion of service and we were so grateful to enjoy every bite! Little do they know, they also inspired me to take action!
Vitus, a yoga instructor on ibod, formerly known as Beach Body, mentioned some words of wisdom during his recorded class. I can’t say I know exactly what he said , but the gist of it was this: When we come into balance, we have to work through the unbalance, which feels uncomfortable. As I stood on one foot, feeling the unbalance and the balance within my physical self, I thought about how this idea is also true in my emotional self.
I often hear this thought of ‘unbalance’ as the shadow self. We work through the shadow parts of us to come into balance. Doing that work is indeed uncomfortable. I feel like there is another big shift coming my way and I’ve had this inner knowledge for some time now. I don’t have any idea what it may be, or what it will feel like on the other side of it, but I do get the intuitive nudge that getting there is going to be more than uncomfortable. I think there’s something I really need to accept about myself that I haven’t quite done yet and it’s something I don’t either like, or want to admit. Even thinking about what it might be makes my stomach tumble over and over like a dryer spinning a clump of wet laundry.
Do I want to clean this dirty laundry of mine? Indeed I do, but the thought of whatever I will have to do to see the light makes me a my belly do flip-flops. I generally don’t get the jitters about life happenings overall. Well, perhaps the time I was in an airplane circling higher and higher, waiting to get to the exact altitude for climbing out on the wing to jump back down to earth would qualify….ha! That was a bit more than nerves, and in the end and even as I climbed out onto the wing, harnessed to a professional parachuter, the nerves were quickly replaced with exhilaration, then joy, then awe. It was worth it all!
So I know that whatever this is coming down the road of life, it will be worth it all. But as I imagine it now, it feels like it’s going to be, at the very least, uncomfortable. I see a lot of tears and shame and forgiveness for myself. It may all happen gradually, like a balloon being blown up one deep breath at a time, or it may occur all at once, as a loud POP! I shall see, and in the end it will be what it will be and I know that it will be for my growth, my greatest good, as well as benefit all others that I may affect.
I am ready for the unbalance, although a nail-biting feeling bubbles up from my core when I think about it. I am as prepared as I can be and know that my loving family and friends will support me if I need them. I will also support me, nurture the child within, console the teen inside, and counsel the adult I am now. I love knowing that the child, teen and adult will all come out with freshly cleaned clothing, smelling like lilacs or fresh air, or something sweet and earthy. We’ll all be wearing our brightly laundered clothing, ready to take the next steps along the path of balancing the emotional and the physical self that I am.
Thank you Vitus, for an outstanding yoga class and an even deeper, thought-provoking, comment! I wonder what tomorrow’s yoga class will bring….
