Holding on. No, Letting go
Doing a guided meditation. ‘Letting Go’.
I am so afraid of Letting Go that I can hardly pay proper attention to what the person is saying in the meditation. Yet I keep trying to listen to it and I try to hear more and feel more of what she is saying. This evening I follow the process almost as though it is a hypothetical, but I come to feel how letting go can bring comfort. At exactly the same moment, however, I come to feel exactly why letting go scares the becrumbles out of me. Letting go, feeling what I am feeling, riding with it…that’s all good and fine. The problem is that there are other people around. And what if they know exactly what I am feeling? Letting go means that I have no curtain, no facade, no defense, no illusion that separates me from them, that keeps me safe from their exploitation, their criticism, their reaction, the pressure to please, the desire to flee and save myself… I don’t think there is anything between me and everyone and everything else.
Boundaries. Mine are rough and tumble. Honesty is just a trap in my mind. Honesty is a lure into someone else’s trap. Something that someone would fool me into. Their own secret passage into my soul to steal everything they can by only knowing it. If they know me they can take me. They can make me worthless. Make me disappear.
Strong, self-loving Shantelle must make her entrance. Take my little S under her arm, then hold her up with the biggest and brightest force field that is her undeniable ubiquitous indispensability to the world. She is a pure and invaluable embodiment of the God’s creation. No less necessary than the largest ocean or or a wild cat’s camouflage. No one questions the power in their beauty or necessity. People only forget and neglect. And when people do forget, neglect and abuse, the ocean and the cat’s camouflage remain, with their power and purpose, despite us, serving the cat, serving the earth… They can’t not be what they are, everything they have become as a result of their existence and their encounters with everything else. They cannot not be.
I cannot not be.
I search for the self-love as well as the humility to face the fact that I am one of everything. That I am beautiful, and i am only one of the infinite numbers of beautiful things, and I have a responsibility to be here as I am, so that life may play out as it is supposed to, rather than based on my fears.