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Golden Thread

I've been sitting with a lot lately--not quite ready to blog about it all. So much has happened behind the scenes since I left Wild Road.

I really arrived somewhere.

I can hardly understand it. I'm not sure how to put it into words, or even if I need to.

I thought it was just in the Blogosphere that I was settling down to a new locale, but it was to be an arrival that bled into outer life. I'm still baffled.

Baffled is good. My mind short-circuits on the baffled setting. Then the real power generator kicks in.

If you'd asked me a year ago what my passion was, I would have said to help people break free from their chains.

Now, I am beginning to see things so differently.

I am seeing people as not needing me quite so much. Mother of the World, redefined.

I began my journey determined to see the world as not so broken. I just never imagined that it would actually happen, on more than an intellectual or emotional level, that is.

Seems now that I can just sit back and watch the dance--see why this and that needed to happen, how this plus this, equaled this, and that minus that, yielded that. And how the music of it all, has never been random, but has always sung sweet melody from the depths of new and strange harmony.

And the more I get out of the way, fuse less with my emotions, show up with love and the will to let go in each moment, the more spectacular is the dance.

I begin to see some divine plan at work. And where I thought I needed to help and spur the lost along--save them from the cross--well, I see that I am not needed in the way I thought.

Only my love is needed. And it is given with ease, when there is no agenda puffed up in awareness that I must adhere to.

Perhaps this is what has made me quiet. Who am I without the need to fix a broken world? Really, what is left?

And with all this gone, why do I feel more alive than I've ever felt? Why do the senses seem heightened? What is this undercurrent of well-being whose presence is becoming known more fully? How is it that I feel energized, desiring to engage in living?  How is it that it all feels so intricately woven? Asking, giving, receiving, as part of being. Powering down to power up. What is this secure knowing that the heart has always led, even into the fire, and in this there is cause for celebration?

Seems I'm to discover who I am, moment to moment. Which means, I'm bound to never pin it down. Neither will anyone else.

So, I just watch. Take in the dance, that doesn't need any help from me. Nope, I see that when I thought I was directing the dance, well, that was just me as part of the dance. I was never in charge. When I thought I was holding a light for the weary--well, I was holding it just for me--my own face reflected in the mirror, the flame rising out of cupped hands. How could I have ever assumed that it was I who made the waves dance?

I sit back and watch how the most beautiful things show up for those around me. Those, who I most thought needed me to save them.

My daughter, the one who starred in much of Wild Road, is one I watch closely these days. I keep my eyes peeled to the far reaches of her universe. It's so much bigger than I'd ever imagined. Still haven't found the edges. I watch the forces swirl about, giving her what she needs, teaching her, opening her up to great love--and all I did was get out of the way. I thought it was up to me to teach it all to her, but it wasn't really working, and then I finally surrendered.

Now what is left, is the joy of watching how it is all coming together for her. She is in a time of healing, of building trust, of joining her life in a way that she couldn't, when I was suffocating her so much with my fear, with my emotions.

I hold her so much these days. We smile together so often. I feel relief at how I can just listen to her experience, without needing to jump into fixing mode. She talks to me more. She gets excited when I come to kiss her goodnight.

Body check: There is a big pain in my heart right now. I know what it is. What feels difficult to me, is to adequately express all of the goodness.

Expression of it feels more important than ever, and less important than ever. Does that make sense?

It feels less like a lesson to impart to the lost, and more like the deepest clues to my own self-expression, my own precious and inadequate homage to a journey whose twists and turns were truly perfect in their imperfection. It wants to be honored like I never understood honor.

It creates a sweet sadness.

It is different expressing faith, than hope. Kind of like, I can't quite believe it myself, and what do I say to speak of truly believing--way past pretending--past desperately decorated hope?

And yet, I am drawn to putting it into language.

I want to get up on a mountain top and tell the multitudes that choosing love above all, really does something. That somehow Love beckons pain and joy come together to amass forces you could have never predicted, changing the way you see. Life really gets better. Love really becomes something unfathomable and new--reliable even.

And yet, I know that every soul is right where they need to be, experiencing what they need for their greatest birthing of themselves. That they will find their way, on their own, without my needing to hold a light for them. That it is inevitable that even those looking to someone else's light as a guide, will eventually close their eyes to shut it out, because it will be no longer be a suitable substitute for their own ability to be light. God, what splendor! 

I am in awe at how it is being shown to me, that each soul's deepest desire is to find their own way out of the darkness. In the meantime, all they want is to be loved right where they are, to know that they are not alone.

The pain that is here, is soft. It  feels like it just wants to pull you all close--especially those who haven't felt the light in a long time.

I just want to sit with you, and tell you to watch it all unfold--that you are not alone-- to be patient. Then I want to be quiet. I want to witness you discover that you've never been alone, and watch it dawn on your face, moving way past the wishful thinking stage.

Perhaps more details of my experience will show up here, just as possibility-- but mostly, I just can't wait for you to discover that you've never lost hold of your golden thread.

And I want to get out of your way. I want to rest as an indirect participant, as part of color and hue, as perfect poem that scratches the record, igniting the dance.

Comments

  1. I feel such peace and gentleness in your words. Wow, so beautifully expressed!!! I dare not say much, for my heart wants to linger longer in the insightfulness you have shared.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Brooke. How to express this? My heart has felt thirsty lately and sad and alone...your words felt like water, like fuel, like sunshine.

    I too want to linger longer in this softness.

    Thank you for reminding me that it's all about Love...I think I've been forgetting that.

    It was a gift to come here tonight.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Bravo Brooke,

    You have come a long way. The day I realised that there is nothing outside of me changed my life. My breathing became freer and my heart started to open, letting in the love that was always there - just simply waiting to be remembered. I enjoy reading your posts Brooke probably because there is always something in them that speaks directly my heart. Thankyou for being you Brooke.This world would be a dull place without you.

    Love Nige

    ReplyDelete
  4. Brooke. I can't put it into words. But somehow I know you know.
    Thank you. xxx

    ReplyDelete

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