Down, down, down, past the buzzing and excitement from Christmas dinner preparations, and getting ready for trip to Malaysia right after. Down, where all the familiar sounds in the house can hardly reach. Down there, I meet 'it' again. Ball in the stomach. Becoming larger, more intense, with each breath. Ball expands into large football, one end pointing to bottom of stomach, other one touching the base of my throat. Down, I also feel the positive energy from my teacher, Gil, and the support of his confidence, and the Buddha with all his marvelous wisdom, and the mother, who loves all, and can hold even the most unhappy child. All three infusing me with the gift of patience, and faith, and great love. Ball shrinks back into stomach, and aims for the heart. Body softens, a bit. Surprise from coolness of tears, down right cheek. Not for long. Ball heads back to stomach, gifting me with its steady presence, once more, as I ready to surface again, into the whirlwind of a very busy day.
Patience, patience, patience . . .
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I have found, more than ever lately, the true meaning of my teacher's refrain, "your life is your practice." Especially where patience is concerned. It seems lately, I'm placed in the situation of having to "wait it out," to "see how it goes," which is when we have no choice but to let go.
ReplyDeleteYou and I together in the soup . . . And I agree with you, the perfect opportunity for letting go of striving. Just sitting, standing, lying down, being with now. In mindfulness.
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