I’ve learned from pain, now I want to learn from joy.
Riding on the Metro train in Paris during the first week of a six-week stay, I heard a voice inside say “Things will be hard at first, but then they will get easier.” After a day of doing battle with inner critics, those words gave me the courage to go on with this dream of living the Writer’s Life in Paris.
Something I know is there are Guides, Angels, and Beings all around waiting to be of service. I just have to sit quietly long enough to hear them. If I am patient enough to keep showing up, listening, and acting on the instructions I receive from the guides, anything is possible.
Sometimes I can sit back and have a Corona on the beach and let all the Depth of Existence go unnamed. Learning to lighten up means trusting where before I thought it was all up to me. Trusting that something wider is holding space for me, for my deep dreams and wild longings.
At last year’s International InterPlay Conference, InterPlay co-founder Cynthia Winton-Henry gave a speech about InterPlay’s strategic goals:
I’m not worried about any of this because none of this is supposed to be happening.
We let something else do what must be done. It’s actually quite practical to trust.
What I know is Reality makes me feel safe. Drama and delusion does not. Reality – the stuff underneath the Drama – is what I love to touch with my bare hands. Give me the raw, the unspeakable, the unholdable. This nourishes me in every way.
I know what June Jordan (pictured above) knew “I am not wrong. Wrong is not my name.” There is nothing wrong with me. Period. I am a treasure. I can trust that. What a relief.
It is fun to be a bodyspirit who dreams, wishes, dances, sings, tells, asks, plays, breathes. It is fun to do things, and then notice what you did. It is fun to gather the wealth of information that lives in each one of us.
What I know is life could be this simple, this rich.
Writing Prompt: Write a letter to the part of you that trusts. Write a letter to the part of you that doesn’t trust. Letters can be short. They can go on for hours. They can be written down, improvized aloud, danced without words, and any combination thereof. As usual, don’t think about it too much. Have fun and tell it like it is!
Copyright 2009. Beandrea Terese Davis. Please ask permission before re-printing.