March 8, 2011

Spirit is Bugging Me Again

And I have finally given in, which in retrospect is always the best thing to do. I surely don't know why I put up such a fight before submitting.

I am being led to write more. I am being led to write as ministry. And not now and again, as I feel like it, or when I like the message that is forming within me. But I am to write faithfully, about all the pieces that Presence uncovers for me, even when I haven't really figured them out to my satisfaction. This writing is not to be about writing well. [Oh no, I can feel my ego reacting, my stomach tightening, and my hands going cold.] This writing is to be about vocal ministry. To say what is given, without serious editing. [Actually, I just heard that I can edit after the fact for structure, grammar, that sort of thing. But that I am to leave off any sort of editing until the piece is finished. Feet are getting cold now, too.]

I am put on alert. I have been trying to harmonize with that which I call God, have been offering my energy in service of the unity of humanity and nature. I have known for some time that all of the personal healing work I have done, and continue to do, is in service of this goal. That my own healing and the healing of the planet and her creatures, including all humanity, cannot be separated from each other. And now it is time to step up to the plate.

I thought I would be traveling, working face-to-face with Quakers. But I am being called to place more energy into this writing business. This is not what I expected.

Here is the trouble. I hate to write. When I write, I cry a lot. It is literally painful to me because it is so friggin' SLOW. I would much rather sit in Quaker worship, experience the ecstasy of God, be filled with the Presence, sit wordless with the Light, be at Peace. Or channel the Light in healing work for myself and others, toning, singing, rattling, drumming, ACTING. I want the ecstasy of feeling, the pleasure of action. A life filled with that would be my bliss.

But Spirit wants words, and that worries me. Words are solid. When I try to describe my experience in words, it feels like trying to shove tender little baby feet into high tops that are too small for them. It is hard for me, and I fear it hurts the baby feet. So I am deeply reluctant.

Still, I trust this bugging feeling. When it comes to me, this swelling in the chest, this readiness to break into tears as I think about the invitation, this quaking of the limbs, this warmth in my heart, this fearsome awe that arises within – when this feeling comes, I know it is Spirit knocking. When I have ignored that knocking, or tried to numb myself to it, I have gotten depressed and ill. I have learned over time that Spirit does not invite me into anything other than my fullness. So it is when I ignore my wholeness, or when I try to numb to it, preferring a smaller, more comfortable life, that depression and illness come.

There really is no choice but to say "yes." Because what I really want - deep down where it matters - what I really want more than anything, more than love and holding, more than being right, more than comfort and security, is this: to use my body, mind, and heart as fully as possible to help the community of the Living Presence become manifest on planet Earth. I tremble with the daring of it.

And so I begin.

Aho.

1 comment:

Joann said...

Bless those tender little baby feet. Let 'em run with no shoes also!