Hello….Hello…Is anyone still there?
I know its been awhile. Its been a wild and wooly fall and I’ve missed you.
The last several months I have had to let go of a lot to make space for this dream I have been living. Unfortunately, some of what I have had to let go of is writing–or at least writing that isn’t being handed in for a grade.

But I haven’t given it up completely. And so today, with several final papers handed in, and others printed out, stapled and tucked safely inside my school bag I can take a breath and return to this page. Hello again. Have you missed me?

Our life has been turned upside down and inside out by my decision to go to school. Max and I both have had to learn new ways of being. Homework side by side, he now needs to wait for me to complete my thought on paper before I can look up to help him. Each minute of our waking time needs to be used wisely for work, or school, or chores and so we linger less at community gatherings and leave lots undone. The house always looks like a bomb went off and sometimes we have to reach into the dirty laundry basket for clothes. Mornings are a bit harried as we both have school that starts exactly at nine. There have been more life solutions that feel as though they are held together by duct tape. Max has had to do more on his own. Its been a change.

And yet life is change. Life is always changing and school has been a gift that has called me to witness it shifting so.
When I decided to go to school I imagined that I would blog about it frequently, sharing pearls of wisdom that I had taken in and digested. Looking back now I can only smile at that intention–the hubris inherent in it. This school is nothing that I can distill so neatly. For what I am learning, along with history and anatomy and theory is the art of being. And that my friends is the Dao that cannot be spoken.

I am finding myself being completely broken open. Sitting quietly in a chair with tears streaming down my face, only to be laughing in the very next moment. I am being moved beyond words. I am noticing a softening in myself, a loosening of places that have always felt tight. I am smelling things as though for the first time, and digesting ideas (some long cherished) so completely that they no longer live in my brain but reside in my bones.

I am doing it all in community, in a group of people who don’t rush in to fix me when I cry. They don’t ask me what is wrong or try to fix my messiness because they know that I am perfect exactly as I am, tears and drippy nose and all. In fact, knowing that we are all perfect exactly as we are is an entrance ticket to this world I inhabit. Don’t dare pick up the mantle of healer until you know that there is nothing to be fixed. Instead be there to fertilize the soil, bear witness to the flowering, assist with the pruning and kiss it all. That is how the healing happens.

As the fall has shifted to winter I have experienced exhaustion, fatigue, a sense of desperation and terrible gut wrenching fear. And as each of these have surfaced I have let them move through me completely. No need to stuff, repress, reframe or even understand. It is simply energy in motion. I have faced some really dark places–moments of intense loneliness and moments when I thought that I would not be able to keep carrying on with this schedule and yet even in the darkest hour never have I regretted the choice to walk this path. I have never doubted walking this way nor have I doubted that walking this way will lead me home..

I have learned that I can keep going if I simply do what is in front of me without worry about what comes next. I have also learned that when I give up the fight with what is (the worry, complaining or stress over what to do) and simply focus on what action I can take to keep moving that we keep marching ahead. And I have learned that putting lots of reminders around to keep me in practice.

I have often operated from a place of deficiency–no enough rest, not enough time, not enough money, not enough support. I have been a fight with the “not enoughs” for so long. So now, I write this message on my hand and remind myself to pay attention to the abundance of ways that I am being held by the universe. The squeeze that has been this trimester, the relentless pace and constant shifting has been teaching me to find space in the chaos to breathe. That space is the place I call peace. It is always there. Finding that peaceful space to inhabit no matter what comes, that is the art of being.

8 Responses to “On The Art of Being”

  1. indigo carlton Says:

    You always leave me with such gorgeous nuggets of insight… Today it is this:
    “Don’t dare pick up the mantle of healer until you know that there is nothing to be fixed. Instead be there to fertilize the soil, bear witness to the flowering, assist with the pruning and kiss it all. That is how the healing happens.”

    Brave you are, in all of this, this big adventure… and inspiring too. Thank you!

  2. Jena Says:

    Oh, Meg. I have not missed you because you are more present than ever. This is beautiful–your writing, of course, and the opening you describe.

  3. Aunt Mo Says:

    Thank you thank you thank you sweet Meg. Your much missed words bring solace to my life and inspiration to what I must do for myself. I Love You beyond words!

  4. Gina Says:

    “Don’t try to fix me I’m not broken.”—Evanescence Thanks for sharing this, Meggers. <3 <3 <3

  5. Trish Says:

    welcome back and welcome home mi amiga…

    you are the gift….oxox


  6. Mom Says:

    ….And you are happy, my beautiful and amazing daughter. Enjoy this incredible journey and the path you have chosen. Love you. xoxo

  7. Jill Says:

    How nice to have a bit of Meg writing today. As always wonderfully written, thoughtful, and open. It brings a nice smile to my day and a few tears.

    much love, jill

  8. Lily Says:

    Welcome back!

    Thank you for sharing!