Oh, if only this journey was about beautiful words, quotes, meditations and prayers. If only it weren’t about the pain, frustration, resistance, the pull to blame, to withhold love when I believe I’ve been wronged…
I walk hand in hand with my teachers. They are, for the most part, the people I live with and love. They hold a mirror up to me each and every day, reminding me of what is still within me to heal.
As much as I love to think of myself as the calm, quiet, healed and right one- they are here to show me I have so much work to do. I can’t keep sticking to that story. The truth is in my face and it says: “You are resisting what is. It will be painful until you let go.” I try to skirt it. I try to walk around it and turn a blind eye, but each time I drop to my knees, each time I close my eyes to search for the silence, I am reminded: this life is the way Home.
There has been a lot of conflict in my world lately. I hate conflict. So. Goddamn. Much. But too bad. If I don’t start looking at this with the intention to heal it, it will only deepen and widen. It cannot be avoided. It cannot be blamed away. It must be transmuted and the alchemist is Spirit.
He said to me, “I’m being honest with you. I’m not going to tell you what you want to hear.”
And I could feel my back go up defensively, could feel my teeth grit with indignation. All the words that would prove me right bolted from my mind straight to the tip of my tongue. I held them there. Eyes pooling with anger, hands clenched with determination, I was ready to unleash my wrath until I heard a voice within me say: “Your only job is to love him.”
I breathed. And I, Danielle, couldn’t love him just then. I had to be willing to let Spirit do that for me. That act of willingness would be the way to love us both. That prayer would affirm he is no different than I. That miracle would heal an ancient wound.
I said, “I know you are. Thank you.” And pulling him to me, I stood on my tippy-toes to whisper in his ear, “I love you. We’ll get through this.” His body heaved a sigh of relief.
And this is the work. All the prayers, meditations and beautiful words are good. But the work is in my willingness to be kind and grateful. The way home is through loving everyone as they are, myself included, and to call on Spirit on a moment-to-moment basis knowing full-well I cannot (and do not) do this alone.
Each day I grow gentler. I soften. And I forget often.
This is the way Home.