Saturday, June 7, 2008

Illness, Forgiving, Music, and Intent

I have been ill. The cold that snuck up in the last day of planting our Community Garden took me down hard as I put in the last pumpkin and watered. All other gardening has come to a screeching halt. I found myself blue with sadness, sick, and on my moon cycle all at once. ("It's Mercury in retrograde," says Anne).

As usual, in deep sickness and healing, big stuff passed through and came round. I drank a lot of water. I laid in bed having visions between sleep and waking. My kids were miraculously independent and held by the community in turns. When I rose, I had only enough energy to write my first original piece at the piano. It took me in, dragging my feet, and set this moment to music. I called it "Neap Tide," and I find it very beautiful. It got much longer than I expected (I have to end soon... I'm going to fall through the piano bench, I thought), and insisted on offering its last note only when it was ready. Perhaps someday I'll get technosavvy and put it up on the blog!

Last night I laid in bed and invited myself to forgive all of those in my life that I hold pain around. The last and longest challenge lay in forgiving myself. I am not consciously hard on myself, but it brought tears to my eyes to send this careful attention to my heart. It feared complete forgiving and acceptance without judgment for its inclinations because it did not want to be hurt again.

My heart made a request that I support it in this effort consciously. But, do I wish to guard against opening it fully? Do I want to guard against receiving others' care, particularly in the sphere of intimate relations? No. That did not land right at all.

Then the words of Sharon Sweet, a gifted intuitive reader (sweets@oregonfast.net -- I recommend her!), offered in great transitional turmoil three weeks ago sounded once more: "Do not be afraid to ask for what you want." She reminded me to listen to what others asked for consciously and look at whether that was what I wanted, too. I can listen with care and intend to find spaciousness to really hear what they are consciously asking for, no matter the mixed signals to the contrary. What are they intending for themselves? (If mixed signals due to perceived subconscious intent, then a mix of intentions have been sent out to the Universe and all are fulfilled... am I content with my role in each and every one?)

I need not guard myself against that which I do not want. I just need to be clear about what I do want and then let the rest go. What a relief to support my heart with such ease! I just need to give myself the spaciousness to see whether and how a situation sits with my overall intention. So, I intend to live life slowly and deliciously. Chew well and swallow with care.

As I look at the journal I've kept over the past 5 months, I'm in awe at how many of my intentions have manifested beautifully. May the journey continue!

2 comments:

Seda said...

I've said it before, and I'll undoubtedly say it again: You're an artist, and your medium is life. Always a joy to see your art come to life.

Anonymous said...

Hey Girl,

I have moved more into the physical in my later years, and I realized the thing about fear and love had to do with the hands. This reaching for what you want is exactly the same gesture as for love. The fear and the protecting the self are the same, retracted gesture: the clenched fists and the huddled body.

It made me realize that fear and love are opposites, not fear and courage or love and hate. Listen to the body. When you reach out and straighten up, that is love. When you curl up and clench up, that is fear. If you go out into the world, then there is love, in the doing in the acting out, in the holding others and reaching. You cannot play the piano with clenched fists any more than you can hold your children with a tucked up body.

Love is what we are. It is our being. Love is not between two people it is the being a person. Fear is like having a rock in your shoe. It is trying to breathe when you have a cold. It is trying reach something when your back is bent over.

I'm just so floored by the miracle of waking up, that it often takes something like being sick to make me realize that I may go away one day. But we are here now, my friend. And that is a miracle. I will always remember digging in the garden with you, it is a gem without any crack of fear in it. A pure gleam of love.

hugs
a