I laid atop the earth for the first time in many years. It was nearly involuntary, as it pulled me by the center and sort of siphoned me out until I was flat and still and quiet. I unlatched the gate of my thoughts and stepped away.
I looked up and saw the normal view you would expect; a cascade of blue flittered with white scuffs. The fractal tree branches latticed above me, patchwork sky and extremely serene.
The warmest part of a cool day is a hazy romance. The wind was soft and sang gently, moving the birds around in my view and making it even easier to allow myself the rest. There is a restorative property about the earth beneath your long center. The tethered effect of your own weight flattened with gravity and vulnerable to the magnitude above you. I’m not sure how else to explain it, but it’s a comfort that can only come from the bed of soft cool grass and mellow air blown over your skin. When you feel how small you really are, your hangups become like marbles; small and easy to grasp. Pick one up and toss it away.
The tincture of time is bewildering and powerful. I’ve been spending the better part of a year trying to sort through a host of complex emotional puzzles and some physical challenges too. They are all connected though aren’t they? How unfair that sometimes feels, because sorting through one tangle can often snag up something else, and so on. The mission is to somehow unwind all the knots without leaving a wake large enough in front of you to create a new one. I’m still determining how I can manage this precision on a somewhat routine basis, but the tangles seem to be further spaced apart now.
After rounding the bend on episodic post-partum depression, I’ve been in a near constant state of plan, do, check, adjust. And I have found that sometimes, what I plan to say or do, is not at all what I actually say or do (but I’m certain every human can relate to this). So I check my mirrors and adjust, hopeful that the next time I get it right. After reading ” The Road Back to You” by Ian Morgan Cron, I realized I am Type 1 on the Enneagram, (Alas, the Perfectionist) and thus, beholden to an unfair quest for perfection, often at the sacrifice of the legitimately good things (and good people) in my life. What I had hoped to gain by reading this book, was not a dish to collect all of the excuses for my poor behaviors, but instead an understanding of it so I can see my blindspots in the foresight, instead of after tripping over it. I don’t want to identify with it, but instead understand how it impacts others and how I might offer grace for those around me. Anger is the deadly sin of Ones, but resentment is truer to their experience. True to mine, undoubtedly.
Reading this book has helped me tremendously on clearing out some of my mental fog and understanding how I can improve relationships. It’s by no means a cure all, because once you have some clarity, you still have work to do. You have to want to apply what you know for the betterment of yourself and others around you, merely knowing where your traps are is not enough. I don’t want to be lazy and unapologetic for the thorns I wear; my relationships are too important to me and I’m determined to file those prickly parts down one at a time.
I’m realizing now that each new decade of life brings a host of new layers to explore in your metaphysical self. I previously described pregnancy as a new room in your house that you never knew was there before. And one day you turn the light on and discover something completely new that never existed before. And you were fine before you knew it was there, you loved the house. But this new room – it’s undeniably present and brilliant now, and your home value skyrockets.
I feel the same way about my journey to self discovery and exploration of what is possible with a higher and better application of self-awareness; how much more fulfilling and healthy my connections with others might be and how we all may have opportunity to heal from whatever has hurt us.
If you’re a one like me, Ian reminds us “You’re imperfect and you’re wired for struggle, but you are worthy of love and belonging.”
And if you want to know more, I highly recommend picking up a copy of his book and using it for the greater good. Find the new rooms you never knew were there, and watch your home value soar.
Ring the bells that still can ring,
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.