For me, this much is critical: knowing how to ask for support, actually asking for support, and surrounding myself with people who are willing and wanting to give it.
As soon as I open myself up, I feel the fear. Then I breathe and expand. Allow the fear. What is under it? Can I be the full sense of me, even with the fear? Can I be ok with letting you see all of me? I open, I feel the fear, I let you in, and I am full. Now you see me, complete, whole.
I am open.
I don’t have much experience with conflict – usually I shy away from it because a bigger need for me is to know that I am liked. There are times, though, that my warrior picks up her spear, yells at the top of her lungs and charges forward. The part of me that wants to be liked, at all costs, tries to hold the warrior back, with voices saying that I have done wrong, that I am bad, that I am too aggressive. It takes a lot of effort for me to remain grounded in this, and to know that I don’t need to be liked by everybody.
What am I waiting for? What is holding me back? Can I take the leap beyond my stories, beyond my fears, and jump into the unknown? There may not be another opportunity.
Right here. Right now.
Can I wake up from my stories and fears and worries and distractions, and become aware of what is right in front of me?
“Right here, right now. There is no other place I want to be.”
Surrender. (Allow this moment to be as it is.)
Surrender to my feelings. Surrender to my pleasure. Surrender to my pain.
Let go. (Nothing is forever, anyways.)
Let go of the need to control. Let go of everything. If I hang on too tight, I will suffer, guaranteed.
Trust. (I chose this life. Everything is perfect as it is.)
Absolutely. Know that this is it.
Yes! I so easily get caught up in my own stories and forget what is real, or don’t see what is real, or choose to ignore what is real. Sometimes I let these stories take over my thoughts, allowing them to colour my reality. They are a way for me to believe I’m not enough, or too much, or somehow not the way I “should” be. In reality, I use them as a way to keep safe. They are like a well-worn blanket, held tight with familiar scents and feels. I know them so well.
More and more, I am choosing to recognize my stories for what they are, and see what is really happening , see who I really am, see what I am really capable of, see how I am really safe, even without them.