Skip to main content

Wanting


Photo Credit J. Scott Bovitz

I find myself wanting. This is an unfamiliar place for me as of late. It is something I know I need to work through to find inner peace, because the wanting hurts, and because I understand that with the wanting, a monstrous iron gate comes crashing down onto the myriad of possibilities, that if left to take on a life of their own, would create their own heaven on earth. Rather they become limited and lifeless by the interference of fear.

With wanting comes a desire to have it all now, to act recklessly, to vie for control of situations, to push and shove out of the way, to cause harm.

So, I struggle with the desire to let go and trust the process, and the desire to control and get what I want now. Torn apart by the knowing that it is actually inner peace that brings all that you desire, but that it takes a sweet surrendering, hard to find when you are feeling impatient.

I can't suppress what I am feeling. I know that much. I must honor my desires as helping me to return to a memory of peace and love. The desire of wanting isn't something to be ashamed of, but being in the wanting is to hold in permanence a feeling of separation; to stifle movement and release.

Healing is a return to wholeness, to actually being whole, because you perceive wholeness. Very different than wanting wholeness.

It is a mental reframing, (and perhaps a discipline) to feel wholeness in the moment as opposed to wanting wholeness in the moment.

The ego loves pleasure. It loves stories. It loves to entice you with them, lead you down the path after them, only to feel the emptiness in the end as it lifts the veil off of your dreams, to reveal the same old painful stories, the same endless patterns of ruin.

There has to be a better way than following these tired paths of disillusionment.

I bring it back to me. I have no other choice, just my own business to attend to. Only me, not my family, my friends, my creations, my world. Just my own thoughts; listening within to the realization that on some deeper level I really do not have control of the forces of my life, even if I like to believe I do for my own security.

If I relinquish control, I am in a better space to allow, to accept, and to heal; to open to all possibilities, to see differently, allow new paths, to lead with peace.

I must suspend judgement, however, because I'm increasingly aware that I really don't know what anything means. I am careful not to construct my own illusion outside of the illusion, which is really just my sneaky mind trying to get what I want.

No, I am not a good judge of what is best for me or anyone. I don't know what the world of form really means, why some structures stand and some fall away. What better motivation to let go of control?

Clear, unconditional, expansive, love is my only beacon in the storm. It is the only reason I find myself skirting around the illusion. It is the only thing that feels real after I am done commanding and demanding. But in a world that reveres its structures I must patiently watch them fall and be rebuilt, merely holding the space for it to become clear and soft with(the illusion of)time.

I believe what the little me has to say less and less these days, because I have been able to stay for longer and longer periods in places of peace, free from needing life to appear a certain way--and the surprise of it? that in this place I am given bounty beyond measure; movement and change happen of their own accord, coming together for peace and harmony. In this peace and recognition of freedom, surrendering control has been reinforced: synchronicities have abounded, love beyond measure has appeared in so many forms as to create a new world, and new experiences that edify and cleanse.

Now-- not to attach to this sweetness and push it away when it gets really good.

Yes, I remember now. Stepping outside of my heart life becomes precarious, haphazard, deadened, personal. Stepping back in there is divine order, surrender, and a knowing that in this present moment, all is perfect, all is whole. And it makes it that much easier to move--to just let go, fall into the void, and soar.

A leap of faith to be sure, but how can I choose otherwise when the air is so sweet, when the feeling of being held is so sure, and the peace radiating from within becomes the only guide I'll ever need to listen to again--if I just give it a chance to show me.

To feel held from within creates our experience of feeling held from outside.

In this moment I let go of wanting control. I let go of wanting. I move into the space of having--let go of the illusion of separation determined to tear my soul apart. And I feel it. I know it. On a deeper level it is shown to me, that nothing was ever lacking, and this realization just keeps getting clearer.

It is the little me who wants me to suffer, but it is the bigger me that knows that my heart's desires are here and already expanding, and transforming--giving me doses of what the bigger part of me knows are the desires that will expand peace and love, and they'll come even faster, without my arrogant desire to take over and impatiently paint only part of the masterpiece.

Comments

  1. Thank you for putting into words, so eloquently, what i know to be true.

    "how can I choose otherwise when the air is so sweet, when the feeling of being held is so sure, and the peace radiating from within becomes the only guide I'll ever need to listen to again--if I just give it a chance to show me."

    Amen.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Hi Brooke,
    It's okay to relax, let go, and surrender to the flow of life. You are safe and loved.

    Love Nige:-)

    ReplyDelete
  3. Just what I needed to read right now. Thank you for this.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Thanks again for another thought-provoking, soul-stirring post.

    Regarding the little self and the big self, I like to think of them as in breath and out breath, high tide and low tide, pulse, expansion and contraction as our soul labors to born. It's a rhythm. It's all good.

    Love to you!

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

♥ Thank you for taking the time connect with me here. ♥

Popular posts from this blog

RIP Poltergeist

After over ten years of an incredibly intense journey as a seeker, I find myself lying fallow. Taking a rest. When I first discovered this uncomfortable fact — threat to the hamster wheel that was my spiritual rat race, I surrendered for dead, but something wouldn’t let that fact sit as truth. I was lying fallow, but this implied that after a good rest, fruit could follow. This had nothing to do with death.

I am humbled at the courage it takes to write. For many years I kept a blog read by only a handful of very supportive people, and you’d think that after sharing writing for so long with perfect strangers, writing would have gotten easier. Actually, it got harder. In fact, at one point I was so paralyzed, I just stopped writing altogether. It was just too vulnerable. There was no trust there anymore, and I attributed any courage I had had to my youthful ignorance.

However, life continues, as it inevitably does, and there is still this pang to write, and it grows stronger and strong…

Here With You

Photo by Daria Obymaha on Pexels.com
Sinking lips into your tiny round cheeks, I'm home. Holding your tiny head to my heart, caressing my chin to your downy baby 'chicken fluff' we'll come to call it later, I'm home. Taking in your baby magic scent, I'm home. Pressing nose to nose, forehead to forehead, staring wide-eyed into each other's eyes, I'm home. Toting little bum and dangling legs around my middle, I'm home. Filled with purpose as you point where to go, what you see, I'm home. Your eyes, new windows to a world I thought I knew, I'm home. Holding you with fever, picking you up when you fall, I'm home. Navigating the years between, boxes of your firsts, every paint brush and pen stroke a miracle, I'm home. Saving pottery penguins, turtles, shiny red roses, a burrito with all the fixings immortalized in clay, I'm home. Kid sister fruit and craft stand on the corner, change clinking in coin purse, magic for the neighborhood…

Storyholder

Photo by Ben Herbert on Pexels.com

I’m standing on a cliff overlooking the water’s edge. The sky is present, hanging there in its vastness, holding this moment with symphonic strains of gray and electric buzz. Watching, suspended, sensing.

I see to both sides of me vast white cliffs carved out by relentless grasping of the ocean extending down the coastline.

The earth where I am standing up above gives just the right yield and welcome, with its soft grass and dainty yellow flowers, falsely giving the impression of delicacy, when anyone can see that they are hardy to withstand the harshness of forces here.

There is an undeniable tightness of gravity here, pinning me down, tugging at me, slowing down my step. I feel as if this force could just sweep me away with the littlest of a flick, like an ant off the table. It screams danger while it beckons.

My life had been recently taking on new grander design dimensions when this place and I met. Dating a new man, after being a single mom for…