Who says I'm too old to write? Probably the same folks who say you can't teach an old dog new tricks. Or the ones who say you can't find love after 40. To this, I say, I am reinventing myself at 50. I have found love at 50. And, I am 50 times a writer! My mission is to write, out of my Being, words that illuminate and evoke honesty, liberty and connection.



Monday, October 24, 2011

I Am Still. I Am Open. I Am Listening.

Upon awakening this morning, I decided to roll over from my side-sleeping position to laying on  my back.  Normally, I would immediately begin to talk to God:  Good morning, thank you for another day and praying in a pondering-type fashion whatever came to my mind.  This morning was different.  I remembered Kathy Freston, the author of Quantum Wellness, saying that one of the pillars to wellness is getting still.  Taking time out of your busy day--just a minute--to quiet and get centered. This unction, if you will, meshed with the mantras Iyanla Vanzant led participants in Oprah's Friday Live Webcast to repeat after they asked for help with stuck places in their lives.  Lying in bed, I tried different ones that I recalled; but something fresh rose out of me:  I am still.  I am open.  I am listening.  When I breathed in deeply and exhaled, these words lifted me out of myself. Out of my agenda.

I am still.  Rather than launching into reflection or meditating on the highs and lows of my life, I decided to still myself.  To settle into the moment of just waking.  I am alive.  I am here.  It's a blessing.

I am open.  I'll admit that it's easy to bring an agenda to praying.  Lord, help me with this. Lord I need that.  But this time, I decided to let God lead.  That Wiser part of me.  I am open.  I am not expecting something to happen.  I am not seeking relief or release.  I am just open to whatever.  I have no expectations of this moment.  No preconceptions.  I will not judge, try to legislate or even hold myself or God to any ideal or construct.

I am listening.  I am attentive to what my body is doing.  My breathing.  I am allowing my mantra to go from my mind to soaking into every part of me.  Everytime I say these words aloud or hear them in my head, I feel them sinking deeper and deeper.  Not only do I hear what's bothering me--things I have used busyness to avoid--but I am not intimidated.  I am still.  I am open.  I... am... listening.

As I moved from a posture of stillness, openness and attentiveness to embodying it, I became aware of a thought I had tried to ignore.  Nonetheless, it was persisting.  I felt my inner light dim with the negativism of that thought.  I had never noticed that before.  I also became conscious of how allowing that thought was robbing me of the joy and gratitude I felt before the thought came.  I was intrigued.  Maybe I was more sensitive due to all the Life Class work I had been doing, still I was glad that I recognized the toxic nature of that thought. When I realized it didn't fit my core values or the person I am or what I wanted my takeaway to be, I felt my breathing in and out take on a purpose.  I took in a d-e-e-p breath. "I inhale Light," said the voice of my Enlightenment. I let the breath go.  "I exhale darkness."  I breathe in what's good for me.  I breathe out what's toxic. 

I saw it for what it was.  My ego.  My ego wanting to control what other people did.  My ego trying to villify them for not meeting my expectations.  "See," it said, trying to make someone else pay for my own insecurity.  That is what the ego does.  It seeks to avoid being responsible for itself by blaming something or someone else.  I am reminded that I am in control of what I allow to affect me.  And when I say I, I am talking about the real me.  The spiritual part of me.  The conscious me.  The loving me.  In stillness, my insecurity masquerading as ego usurping itself as a persistent thought was exposed, expelled and I felt the warmth, the joy and the love, that is me, restored.