How often do we feel the sword thrusts of a deep wordless anguish as we sense the awakening of primal longing, a choral thrill of homesickness surging through us; a cosmic wave of loneliness crashing upon the shores of our awareness, seemingly unbidden? This hunger for the solace of home-coming is so entertwined into the most banal moments of our day, that even though it comes as an apparently uninvited guest, it feels as familiar to us as our own bodies and minds. It surely is no stranger, but an intimate friend, asking us, pleading with us “let me in, welcome me as your own”.
Inhabiting this body and mind is the journey. Doing this with the full permission of life’s invitation to be, as we are, just as we are, through each unfolding moment, this takes learning the art of resistlessness.
As unwelcome or downright embarrasing, or even deeply offending thoughts, feelings and urges come to us demanding that we respond in ways we constantly struggle to contain, then know.
Know that what you have habitually ignored, shut down, smothered, suppressed, denied and shunned as not yours, are the very orphaned children of your totality asking you, no, begging you, to recognize and own them as yours.
Those unwanted parts of you which make you feel unworthy, unloveable, unforgiveable, a failure, a waste of space, which make you want to check out, to distract yourself from their irrepressible signals, are the very parts of you wanting to give you their secret gifts hidden in the darkness you refuse to willingly enter.
What you refuse persists. Until it shouts so loud you can’t pretend anymore that it isn’t there demanding attention, love and the deep respect all our wounds deserve.
The practice, as so beautifully demonstrated in a recent visit from a young non-dual teacher (Jeff Foster) is to simply sit with oneself and do nothing. Just sit in an atmosphere of receptivity and resistlessness to whatever chooses to show itself to you. However absurd or ugly or shameful or just plain boring or pointless it is, to offer deep loving acceptance, to allow space and more space to our orphaned hearts, to allow them to give us their jewels of open sky. Space enough to hold all the waves on the ocean of life.
I am the ocean stillness,
which swallows all the rage of
I am the heart of openness
where all the precious brokenness of life
might find the true solace