Pause.  I’m in shock.  How did I get here again?  Shit!  I’ve been swept away, like surfing on a tidal wave, feeling high and accomplished when on it but seeing the falsehood of this as the wave washes away and I am sitting in it’s path of destruction. 

I’m sitting at the bottom of myself, in a hole with my shadows.  At first, I am terrified, frozen in fear and physical pain.  Hands reach out and I don’t know how to grab them.  Still, they are comforting.  They are there, noticing I have fallen, partly because my body has spoken, partly because my spirit is knocked down too.   

As I sit in the bottom of my cup, I am still.  Old patterns would have me clawing, grasping for a way out through a plan, a path forward, the DOing of action to escape the discomfort of BEing in my pain.  My body needs slow to recover and so I push away the urge to grasp through DOing and sit in it. 

I feel lost.  And the hands that were reaching out to pull me up are now dangling, still too far to reach, reminding me I’m not alone as I sit.  All the things I’ve been holding together, the balls I’ve been juggling, have fallen down.  And it’s ok.  I’m ok. 

Despite not knowing my way forward I know I am not alone and to be seen in my darkness is healing.  So, I show up.  I go to my Roots to Thrive meetings, not as a Facilitator but as a human.  Just show up.  Do the next right thing, one step at a time, feeling my way through. 

As I sit in this virtual circle, feeling like I’ve opened a portal to my darkness by opening Zoom.  I feel comfort knowing I am safe to be authentic.  “You don’t always have to smile,” whispers a reminder from my heart. 

As others share, my body responds with signals, sensations that bring light back where darkness felt heavy.  In listening, I am reminded I am not alone.  In witnessing, I see pieces of myself that had been frozen in pain, reflected back at me and igniting a spark, albeit small, to initiate the thaw.  I leave with love and gratitude for those in this space who have gifted me hope, belonging, courage and kindness while mine weren’t accessible.  “I am love,” whispers my heart. 

I remain in the depths of my darkness, unsure of what is to come.  “Stop talking and listen,” my heart reminds me.  My heart has a knowing that if I stay here, at the bottom of my cup, BEing, healing, listening, that I won’t have to plan, think, clutch, grasp my way forward.  BEing is good enough.  Showing up is enough.  I am enough.  One thing at a time, feeling my way through is all I have to do.  The Universe and my heart will take care of the rest.   

Written by Kate Wilton August 20, 2021

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