Who We Are to Each Other -- Choiceless Choices

The last six days have been a lot.

I have wanted to find a quiet or jazzy space to muse 'aloud' here on the page, to see what I’m learning, mostly because there are at least 70 times 7 different entries into the feelings of it all. Beginning with sentence summaries may help…nodes of energies within each:

• I was reminded of the gift and burden of wordlessness, encountering a deep heart-ache about which I can do nothing but pray, holding fierceness for Life and Abundance from a safe distance. [By wordlessness–a sacred haven of learning for me over the last 15 years–I mean honoring situations and relational energies by being-with more than interpreting-explaining-doing anything within them. Apophatic spaces, where unknowing or bewilderment is more necessary than any language, attempted sacred or not. Kenotic spaces, where surrender into nothingness–dying to self so to live into Self–insists itself somehow. It feels like dying, loss, when it can be gestating or rebirth. It may be death, because one cannot tell on this side of it; only on ‘the other side.’ Tough for a writer-worded-woman.

• I still refuse projections that are not mine to resolve, as well as rewritten/revisionist histories/herstories twisted by fear. I trust the divine order of things, both past and present into future. 

• I hope for differentiation and healing that sometimes only comes after hitting bottom. 

• I wish spiritual maturation was not so costly, for everyone.

• I love my own charism of words and kinship-making, both for the ways they connect me to beloveds AND to the way they help me make sense of my own path, life. Uninhabited by others’ judgments, assumptions, imposed guilts and insecurities.

• I was blessed with even greater clarity that my own sacred work forthcoming has to do with making kin, which ultimately requires at least some words amidst the gifts of wordlessness. This is not everyone’s work, however, nor should it be. I want nothing but to support the sacred work of those I love, as they conceive of it, regardless of whether I understand or agree.

• I was blessed to hold diverse spaces for stunningly beautiful, soulful, sweet and salty women who chose to come to a SoulCollage overnight 3-4 day retreat administered by a friend. We dipped into archetypal space in a guided meditation. We played a round of the Flow Game. We gathered to offer and receive words, hearts, learnings. I had expected to do all of this in a familiar, companionable way, but that was not possible this weekend. At least not with expected companions, I should say. Companionship found me despite complications.

• So many gifts in the solitary path, so much grief too. Then an elder sister-friend saw through all the unexpectedly solo but resonant work in how I am with women’s communities. She warmed my heart with her own summary: you hold space like a mother-fucker, my dear. We laughed. 

• I was reminded once again: When I feel seen and heard, I will go to the moon and back for you, ‘tis true. Because then the holding/energies somehow are no longer just mine but ours,  in a web of practice toward kinship… It’s no longer work, then, but journey, building, weaving, sharing… 

• No less true, though: when I do not feel seen and heard, then I do feel lonely. And life is too short for me to sign onto additional work that makes me lonely.

The stunning and blessed thing was just how Spirit showed up throughout the entire soul-work journey, for spirit-friends and myself, for the circle of participants making cards and listening deeply to their own souls. The dance of being-there-for-another was complemented for me with being-there-for-myself. By which I mean I signed onto my own writing circle, so to be seen, heard, held–even if just for 45 minutes–which grounded me just enough to tend all that was to come. I also chose to hold ‘optional circles’ or ‘practices’ on each day, Friday and Saturday, for complicated reasons, but good ones. It was easier for me to do that–hold the space ‘alone’ in more-worded spaces with others who wanted to be there–than to be in the wordless-complicating spaces of images-SoulCollaging-heartache. Or maybe I chose to offer these things because I have not done this kind of work for years and it was easy, fun, nourishing to do so. I am pleased with who I became-with this weekend, and proud of steady good work offered with heart.

I’m also reminded of something an elder-friend said a long while ago: we imagine or assume that we get to choose who and how we are in people’s lives, when Spirit seems to operate without that assumption at all. Each of us gets to play a role in the intentional-consciousness-spirit-work of those we encounter, but our perceptions are never the point, nor even mostly accurate. Sacred bewilderment is the phrase I’ve used to describe this, which requires not behaving toward a form (often patriarchal in shape) but getting curious, learning together who each of us is to be, who we are to be in any given relationship. Of course this requires being willing to move and grow ad infinitum, to change and transform beyond even those choices, those shared expectations. 

Exhausting, yes. But so life-giving too.

For now, I’m reminded that I hold space like a mother-fucker. I love fiercely and open-heartedly, getting better at catching my compulsions to help, fix, disempower others from doing their own soul work. I am curious about becoming-with and collective-deepening with new spirit-friends I’ve yet to meet, and with old spirit-friends who have blessed my life for over a decade. 

I have newly learned that I need to listen for guard-rails for my own big heart, when my fierceness in love can perhaps overwhelm my aging body and its capacities. I didn’t go over the guard-rails this past weekend. These days-after have been restorative, quiet, nourishing, restful. And not requiring too much time, recovering. But I do realize I don’t have good enough questions yet to know when a guard-rail is looming closely, particularly if I’m moving quickly and feeling fiercely for a beloved. 

Which is the life I want to live amongst other fiercely friendly people. Remembering Brene Brown’s wisdom–clear is kind; unclear is unkind–I want open, big-hearted living to define my sacred path…with wise choices that are kind to me and kind in clarity with those I love.