It never fails to surprise me.  It creeps up on me and shocks the hell out of me.  Just when I think that I have become fearless, just when I think I have overcome my deepest darkest fears, just when I think that I have done my soul work and gotten an A+ on the lesson, then I realize how terribly scared I still am. 

Does it ever end as we peel away, layer by layer the protective walls we put around our hearts?  It seems that no matter, how much work I do, its still there, more and more subtle but there.  This fearfulness. 

Shortly after my marriage failed, I found feng shui.  After suffering such a devestating loss, after feeling so adrift, after realizing there was no security in this thing called marriage, I found a sense of control and order.  If  I could just eliminate the clutter, if I could place the bamboo just so, if I could figure out the flow of energy in this house I could be safe.    I spent long hours, arranging, planning, sorting…and desperately holding on to a vision that my life would be OK. 

At other times, it would be my job, my money, my community, my life as a mother, my writing and creativity, my spiritual journey, even this blog… a long line of things that made me feel anchored and safe.  One by one I transform each into a security blanket the thing that would keep that fear at bay.  The fear of being here.  All.  Alone.

And over and over again I would learn, the more that I grasp at these things, the more they slip through my fingers like water, proving to me again and again that while each one of these things delights, my security comes from none of them.

They are false idols, lined up in the temple of my heart–I deify them and doom them to failure.  They will not save me.    Over and over again I learn that really, its just me.  And my faith. 

Yup… in the ends its just me.  As rich as my life is, there is nothing to grasp onto but what is here in my heart and my faith.  No matter how hard I try, I cannot be  anchored for life is a river and it is sweeping me along and carrying me, pulling me moving me.   And that scares the hell out of me.  

But make no mistake.  This is not a sad or desperate post. 

Because I am breathing sweet free air of liberation.  I can stop looking for the thing that is going to save me.  I can stop waiting for it to delivered and come along.    I can stop fearing that it will all disappear if I say or do the wrong thing.  I have it, have always had it, will always have it, right here in my heart. 

I am the thing that saves me.

I am so unpracticed at this way of being. 

So I will stumble along and when I trip,  I will reach for something to steady myself but when it disappears into thin air I will not feel the bruising crash of my body slamming down, but the steadiness of my hand against the ground.   Catching myself.

3 Responses to “Catching Myself: What is Revealed in Coming Up for Breath”

  1. Trish Says:

    Oh the flotsam and jetsom of life…

    I have it, have always had it, will always have it, right here in my heart. I am the thing that saves me. L.O.V.E. THIS!!

    I swear to goodness that you have an invisible antenna into my thoughts and a porthole in my heart of the words I need to hear just when I need them.

    So much love to you,
    Trish

  2. Jena Says:

    You know the “Bear Hunt” book? They are going on a bear hunt, gonna catch a big one, it’s beautiful day, and they’re not scared? But them, uh-oh, all of these scary obstacles appear – a dark forest (“stumble trip stumble trip stumble trip”), a snowstorm, an icy river – and they can’t go over them, can’t go under them, have to go… THROUGH them, as Pearl loves to say.

    Stumble trip steady stumble, dear Meg.

  3. Jennifer Baallantyne Says:

    Darling girl, you will never, never, be here all alone, this I do believe. Great post as always, love you, Jen xxx