I want to live free, free from all bondage: past beliefs that no longer serve me, blocks and barriers that stop me from expressing my authentic self. I want to live free, where it’s okay to be me, where I have the space and time to discover who I am. I want to be free of fear, the kind that stops me from exploring. And then, I want to sit on a grassy knoll by the ocean listening, watching, seeking the quiet of nature, hearing clearly the call of my inner voice, the language of silence and bliss…
I wrote this on our kayak trip, seated in a grassy nook by the sea, basking in warm sun, watching the rapids and my husband fishing in Surge Narrows. Now I’m sandwiched in a plane that looks like a sausage with wings, elbow to elbow with strangers in neat little rows. My nostrils are cold and dry from the pressurized cabin air.
Transferring the pledge that begins this writing from paper and ink to digital life, I recall that moment in the salty breeze and wonder how I can maintain that feeling in this article. That’s the thing isn’t it? Living that kind of bliss in the ordinariness of life. Bringing up the depth of connection with our inner voice when the distractions of daily living are tugging at our consciousness: bills, children, lovers, dishes, relatives, the phone, text messages and emails, all wanting attention…
Perhaps this airborne ride is not unlike my grassy perch. Here, I’m disconnected from that long list of interruptions. My co-pilots, 5F, a big guy gently snoring to the rhythm of Lifehouse playing on his ipod, and 5D, a lovely lady busy reading, are both, definitely, not interested in connecting with me. I am left to my own inner dialogue.
Waking up to my soul talk has been quite a journey, and it continues to unfold in mysterious ways.
I used to think I could plan out my life. What arrogance. Now I recognize twists and turns that come my way as part of the curious, thrilling ride through human experience.
Somebody called me a writer the other day. What does that mean? Aren’t we all writers, marking out thoughts even for a grocery list? I love watching my friend write, really write, pen to paper. Her letters are so neat, so calculated, so practiced. Now there is a writer!
It’s becoming more clear, as I work to drop any pretense of who and what I think I am and find my centre, that, only when I’m completely immersed in the moment, have I surrendered all chains that bind me and opened to the passionate life waiting to find its way through me.
Resistance to this is an interesting phenomena. My husband suggested another new, great idea for my life – and I resisted. I might love taking on this new project. So why is my habitual response to resist change at all cost?
I smooth the creases from my brow and relax… feels like more work. Hmmm… a leap frog move of my mind, an assumption flipped for an opportunity. Why not dip a toe in and try?
If we can open our hearts,really open our hearts and listen and observe ourselves (not others, ourselves), , what grace we could live every day. Nature does it so perfectly and effortlessly. I can too – at least sometimes. I bring that presence to this flight and soar at 35,000 feet, fully immersed in the moment.