Did you know? Waves are seen to move through an ocean or lake; yet the water always returns to its rest position.
Here, I borrow Bruce Lee’s words, “Be water, my friend.”
Torrents of grief—beyond control, Needless for control. The body Doing its thing: processing, purging, And purifying, while the mind Takes a back seat—it has learned Measures for such a seizure: Do not resist, swaddle. Tuck the back and shoulders into a blanket Firmly to create holding; Lay the body flat on the mattress, Feel the support, and breathe.
Let the belly lead—
Underwent this enough times to know it will not
kill me. I can take myself through.
Truth be told, I was not expecting a meltdown—Say what?—
MELTDOWN!
Was it not supposed to be business as usual for me—
writing on a spacious, quiet morning?
But I guess, I guess, after a weekend of teachings and transmission,
what was I expecting? —
P.s. On a side note, I really loved how the teacher’s bio read,
“the Diamond Approach found me…”
—Found me? Yes.
Structures melt; frozen experiences thaw; life energy is freed.
But of course, it is terrifying when we make any of these wrong.
Weathering alone—An “I” spiraling in another “I” as the storm
sweeping me clean, and an “I” in the eye, watching, feeling.
Didn’t know who to call. Though there were options, possibility;
more than a handful of faces and names appeared, people
close and distant. A far cry from the teenager
who had no one and thought of no one.
I stayed—crawling into the bed, fetching two bunnies and a fox
into my tight embrace, placing their paws over my chest
as I breathed,
and breathed
into the part where the dull pain
throbbed.
Was I desperate? Yes, initially. Pleading to be saved,
my mind raced through visions of potential rescuers.
I wanted to be saved from those waves
but could not bring myself to call
someone. An intelligence knew: this storm needed
to run its course. Getting in its way would be unwise.
When I stopped making the process wrong, fear receded.
No savior necessary for I was already saved.
Waves of relief surged from my lower belly, curling
and cresting at my chest, breaking into tears and wails.
Presence was available to tide and see me through
my process. Without the distracting self-images
of being the ‘burden’, the ‘rejected’, the ‘not-being-held’, the ‘projected-upon’, etc., I was right there with myself,
giving myself over to the ground, to this body,
to the mysterious, ancient wisdom in me.
All I needed to do was be—Be the sacred space
where everything takes place.
Surrender:
giving myself over to gravity.
“allayed by these rhythmic splashes
I fight no more
allowing
accepting and receivingour pulses harmonized
I am the lullaby
the world ushers me
home.”~ Excerpt from the poem “Surrender” in “The Weight of My Soul: Uncovering My Significance”
I have changed—grown, matured, and catching up
With the mystery that I am.
—Today, I met an age-old presence.
🍯 The Dandelion Notes ~ Writer’s Fund
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Hello & welcome — I am glad you are here. I am Rosslyn Chay, an inquirer, poet, and coach. The Dandelion Notes are field notes on my process and learnings through my human journey as I go on a quest to mend our fractured relationship with our nature.