March 9, 2011

The Million-Piece Life and Its Imminent Demise

Yesterday I "began" my writing ministry in a conscious way. Now I am left with the road before me. And how to navigate it when I am supposed to write what is given – nothing more, nothing less.

What is given today? Sitting here in Michigan on a dull, wet, cold March day I am yearning for the spring and the sun, and this yearning for warmth and light feels also like a yearning for God. As if the winter has dried up my soul along with my skin; as if being inside under too much artificial light has diminished my capacity to see the true Light shining through grey skies and disturbing news stories.

My spiritual practices have fallen off a bit, even while my sense of being called has increased. It is as though backing off from practice might be a way to numb down a bit so I don't have to pay such close attention to the call. Gad. Winter and I have been in collusion this year to dampen down and hide away.

I can continue to bellyache, or I can start to do something differently. Immediately my mind objects – every little bit of my life is mind-mapped to a million other pieces. Move one piece and the whole thing comes tumbling down.

That's the idea, says the Voice. This life with its million pieces is not serving us well anymore.

"Who is us?" I ask.

You, me, and all the rest, says the Voice.

Well, I can't complain. This is what I wanted, to serve the Unity. And I guess it is true that nothing changes if nothing changes. If I just keep wishing for change, that's all I'll have in the end – a bunch of wishes. So here goes. I am about to step off a cliff. I am girding up to ride into battle. I am about to push the baby out. I am about to allow Change to have its way with me. I am about to leap into the unknown, because, for all I know, moving a piece of this life may end up with someone else being disappointed in me, or getting angry with me. It might mean that I lose connection with someone or something that I have cared about. It might mean I have to live with less money and comfort. It might mean a lot of things my ego would not choose for me. I am afraid.

And then the Voice again: I will not lead you into anything except your fullness.

My fullness. Yes. I want that, very much. "But will the ride be bumpy? Will it be scary?"

Probably. You will not face it alone.

My body shivers. My heart swells. Here it is. Consent rises up. The tears come.

"OK. Which piece do I move?"

Which piece do you want to move?

Swelling heart deflates rapidly!

"I beg your pardon?! Didn't you just say you were leading me?!"

I feel indignant. Tricked. And then…..

Oh. I see. The call is to get simpler. It's up to me to follow the path of my heart's content.

I feel the physical sensation of "coming together." Yes, this is right. This is always the way it has been between us. I am led, but must also navigate. I am given the map, but it's up to me to decide the route.

So - which piece will I move today?

3 comments:

Joann said...

Whew! Were you listening in on my worship this morning? The "where do I start" question was on my lips as well. I'm jealous of your body connection -- "body talk"? I need my body involved to "hear" the answers as clearly as you. Maybe THAT's the piece I want to move? How to claim my body?

Merry Stanford said...

Body claiming is pretty important, I agree. And yes, BodyTalk can help with that, from my biased viewpoint. But just listening to body, in the way we listen for Spirit, can also be very powerful. Sounds like body has more blessed conversations in store for you, one way or another! Yippee!

Peter said...

What do I do?
What do you want to do?
Your inner voice answers you like a good therapist. Of course, I WOULD say that.