These two words have been my intimate companions for the past nine months.
I have reached out to them in the middle of nights, at the beginning of days, in the forest, on the beach and in my car.
I have reached out to them when I have known that my little human mind and my big human heart were no match for what was needed.
I have reached out to them when I was afraid to not be smart enough, tough enough to find my way on my own.
And I have been guided. So beautifully.
Guided to say “no more.”
Guided to get on planes, cabs, motorcycles and buses.
Guided to go and guided to stay.
Guided to break and guided to mend.
Guided to love, too.
Guided to share meals, my heart and my home.
To let go of what I have loved, to let go of what made sense and to welcome the wobbly unknown, the barely formed soft-fleshed of what will be.
There is a restfulness to being guided and I know that Rest is part of our healing.
Here’s what I know:
Change can be messy.
One minute we’re clear, one minute we’re lost. And yet, we take action because it’s how we move forward.
Change requires Trust.
Change requires Support. VERY gentle Support.
Change requires Courage.
Change allows us to grow while simultaneously demanding that we grow.
Change kicks our butt and grows our lives.
I find that more and more so many things DON’T matter.
They cross my mind and very quickly something inside of me does a little shrug, a tiny wave, a small “meh.”
I let them go, bless them away like dandelion puffs.
Thoughts, questions, opinions, regrets ...
Making room for the round shiny pieces that do matter. That always did.
SCARED OF THE SACRED