Fill me up

The clarity I get from being by water is unmatched. Moving water. Stormy water. Calm water. It all comforts me.

I have needed to be close to the water lately. But somehow I am denying myself this simple pleasure. The simple joy of doing something that fills my soul up is exactly what I am depriving it of. But why? Why do we hide from pleasure and hide from joy? Why do I dodge something that fills my soul?

Of course, for me parts of this are rooted in the fear of over indulgence…or at least appearing to be over indulging (pretty hard to avoid as a chubby middle aged lady). Hustle culture has gotten so real and if I can be real for a minute - I hate it. What if I want to feel good for a minute? A month? A millenium? But what message will that send to the universe? And (horrors), what will everyone think of me if I do something (or too much) for myself?

Isn’t it time we put down the need to prove ourselves to anyone but our self? Shouldn’t SELF come first? I am all about the hard work…but it’s been at the cost of my own sanity. I am fearful I have forgotten the importance of where I begin. I have become a prisoner to proving myself to others.

In this next year of my life, I am choosing to find joy. Fill my own cup. Wait for no person and put nothing before me. Recovering from a bad illness this month (I’m looking at you COVID) and battling a life long one is only making it more obvious every day and every moment that I need to choose me first.

So if you need me, look for me here - by the water. Or in the sunshine. Or even under a lovely canopy of trees. And if I am smiling alone, know that I have once again found space for me.

Spaciousness

Space.

I am looking for some space to clear my head these days. Clear my lungs.

I seek it everywhere. At my desk. On my back porch. Near the water. In the quiet of my bedroom. I need space. Air so full it washes over me like a waterfall - powerful and full of life.

So each day right now, I come here seeking that release… that special moment. Each day I come here to this very spot to find some sanity in this crazy, mixed up time. Hoping for the winds of change to speak to me.

__________

You see, I was healed here once before. My heart heavy with grief and fear, I walked this lonely mile every day wondering if life would get better. Each day, I made silent prayers to the universe that this, too, would pass and that one day, I would wake up and things would be bright again. Each day I seemingly got a message that life, indeed, does go on: a family of foxes playing in the grass; a bobcat resting in the shade, dolphins leaping out of the water, tails splashing; a pack of deer crossing right in front of me; an owl perched on a branch so obviously watching us, it gave me chills; blossoming jasmine; the scent in the air dripping heavy with honeysuckle. Life was there. Every day. It kept proving itself to me.

I kept showing up. Noticing things. Breathing in that fresh air I so desperately needed. The first days were hard. I felt like I had cinder blocks attached to me, to my heart. I dragged them behind like anchors weighing down my soul along with all the years of love and loss and pain and heartbreak I had gathered in those bags around my heart. I lost a sister, a mother, a father. I lost a family , an identity, a lover - all these things once knitted together, now frayed at the edges, torn apart by life.

But it was that air that kept me coming back. Full in my lungs. Clean. New. Blowing out the old, toxic air…the toxic thoughts. The grief and sorrow all washed away by the spaciousness I created.

_________

In the face of this time, I am admittedly not doing well. This stuff is hard. It’s scary. I feel the same anxiousness I did before, darkness seeping into my soul like the night stealing away light, forceful and stronger than me. But I know the light will chase away the darkness soon enough. Night always yields to day. The wind blows the old away, making room for new seeds to germinate.

The thing is that I know where to find the wind, the spaciousness I seek. I know it’s there. I just have to be patient and wait for it to come once again.

Ebb and flow

If there is one thing I have learned about life, it’s that cycles are always prevalent. The tides ebb and flow. The sun rises and sets. The seasons change and progress. We don’t doubt these things. We count on them to dictate the rhythm of our days.

Yet somehow, I forget that these cycles happen in my personal life as well. I forget that work comes and goes, or that relationships wax and wane. I forget the gentle push and pull of everything and wrestle with the notion that rhythm of my life SHOULD be good, abundant, happy, joyful and full all the time.

But what would I know of life without the dry spells? What would life be in only fullness? Would I recognize the tide if it only kept pouring in? Wouldn’t that mean I would be under water. Wouldn’t that mean I would never know solid ground or the sand beneath my toes.

As I watched the tide roll in the other day, I was confident in what would come next. Just as it flooded the lowcountry, soon, as it always does, it would flow out again, leaving behind treasures and findings and room for the little fiddler crabs to breathe again. I never doubt this. I only know with all my heart. I know it will because I have seen it before. Time and time again.

It made me realize that life flows the same way. Life flows. Things come and go. Its a never ending cycle. Practice and trust. Trust and forgiveness. Forgiveness and grace. Grace and practice. It just keeps on going. Always there. Always flowing. Always ebbing.

Forge Ahead

When we are caught in a sea of uncertainty, the best thing to do is to find a spot on the horizon line to focus on and paddle towards it with all your might. The seas may get rough. The winds and currents may be unforgiving. But you will always end up at your destination if you keep focusing on where you are headed. 

So eyes forward. And forge ahead.