Crises shake me awake, so that I have little choice but to pay attention and attempt to understand the storms, conflicts and extremes of opposing emotion that roil and boil inside me.
I know that the stirrings in me which crises cause are like clear waters suddenly made muddy. I know the transparent calm where all was clear and simple to see is gone.
The plateau of my heart’s ease, where grass is green, and no wind ruffles, is a gift to be accepted.
The calm of uneventful days is like the sun that shines on a jet plane – I am to trust revolutions of power beyond my understanding and voluntary control are churning, burning, and keeping me safe on the inside.
I accept the days of ‘nothing doing’ in the same way I down the first drink of cool water in the morning. I absorb bright colourless refreshment certain it will reach into my darkest roots.
But I also know to stand back from insisting to myself that I must thrash out sense and meaning out of turbulent emotions. Death inside, or at the very least continuing ignorance, is the reward for panicky reactions where I am drawn in to fruitless fights with my own shadows.
I know that the swirl of sediment that now blinds my view of where I am going is composed of mysterious particles.
These are the smashed up, mashed up micro fragments of old certainties!
They are more valuable than gold dust, more alive than my own breath, because, unlike mud which petrifies into rock on settling, I know they will recrystalise into brand new beauty.
My road was secure. But now it is blazing into a lava flow. My tears explode where they fall!
My old road will rearrange and recrystallise to recreate – like resolidified titanium – my new spiritual bones.
I know I will give myself the gift of time, waiting in faith and trust. I am 100% calm, because I have confidence that the primordial roots of my origins are active, though I have not the least intimation of their motion, intention or direction.
This is how trees await Spring, how birds the Sunrise, and it is how “old earth is new earth in the dark seed’s eye”.
I will have stood aside and observed the swirls of pain in my chest. I will have felt them retch up my throat. I will have committed to memory the dried tears I see on my own face.
And, at the end of all of this, I will see walking towards me, with the magical mutual smiles of recognition spreading over both our faces, myself and I, as we fall into an embrace for the first time.
~ Love is present E v e r yN o w