full circle

My attraction to The Church has

meandered a bit.

As a youth, it was a curiositypeople go inside of a building to hear words and play music and they call this holy or meaningful or special?

All I knew was the joy of the wind in my hair, the sand under my feet and the natural sense of awe at the setting sun.

As a teenager, it was an anchorI will cling to the church, its beliefs-rituals-assurances and thus take a moral high ground.

My family, as I had known it, imploded and scattered to the wind.

In my twenties, it didn’t existf*ck yoU-there-is-no-god-for-me-but-me-and-I’ll-do-as-I-please-thank-you-not:

I wanted experience, and I wanted it hard and fast – until I didn’t.

In my thirties,  it provided useful contrast: I want peace, not promises built on the words of others.  What am I?  what is knowable and what is unknowable? What is freedom?

Am I coming full circle?  Are we as a species coming full circle?

All I can know is my experience.  Experience such as the wind in my hair, the sand under my feet and the joy of the setting sun.Lighthouse

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DamesBond or Inner bonding?

I attended a conference yesterday geared towards helping women in business (Damesbond).  While I was there I heard several speakers and some lovely oration.  One speaker with whom I resonated is named Suzanne Roberts of Womengenerating.com.  Her work in polarity therapy and somatic trauma resolution has allowed her to be an effective coach for anyone wanting to feel safety and support within their own body.  She also defined the word Confidence as meaning “not wanting an outcome.”

What? Did I hear her right?  not wanting an outcome?  I was taught early on to portray confidence to appear like I don’t care about outcomes, when in fact, I cared very much (Don’t let them see you sweat – a popular deodorant advertises).  And yet this definition feels like entering into the benevolent grounds of loving detachment.   How often do I want an outcome for myself or my children, for example?  especially when in the process, I judge it all as “messy”.  I heard a teacher once say that the soul prefers things messy.  Perhaps it is because it is more honest?

 

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Baby steps

Baby steps

Babies may ask you to hold thier hands

while they find their footing.

Is it uncomfortable

to go slow?

To know

that I am falling forward

again and again –

embracing the unknown with each step?

I become tranquil

as I slow down

enough

to be aware

of where my attention

is focused.

“Don’t be a baby”, “She’s a bit slow”, “hurry up!”, “Go for it!”, “Get with the game” and so on and so on

the familiar din goes.

There is nothing inherently

wrong

with time, or speed, or taking big steps.

And yet,

babies’ faltering steps

are full of lightness and the gift of spontanaeity.

There is the joy of movement, the excitement of

risk, the experience of strength from taking a fall and

it being okay afterall.

So much heart in a baby’s step.