G and I are hanging out on my cruise liner of a bed watching one of the most inane South Park’s I have ever seen, and I am once again struck by how utterly sublime this moment is in my life. We’ve had our ups and downs recently, mostly related to the stark realities of divorce and how hard it is for him sometimes to divide his time between his Dad and I. Last week I had to take a deep breath, stand my ground and gently let G go. I felt really awful and spent a little bit of time circling the drain of my sad sad existence. I don’t know if you have ever been there; but if you have, you know, it’s a pretty mixed-up place to be.
Fortunately for me I’ve developed a kind of brazen, distinct love of self that propels me out of the muckety-muck energy of an ego I cannot control into a higher vibration of I don’t know, something like, effusive fearlessness that invites me to just let it all go. I’m no longer afraid of happiness, in fact, I like it, and let it waft around me and buoy me up on a regular, no, on a daily basis.
It has to be a daily phenomena for me. After all, I am a person who continues, in spite of her more meditative nature, to allow more than a couple dozen ideas to bat around inside of my head on a daily basis. And whereas those ideas used to scare the hell out of me, they now actually inspire me and result, I believe, in the manifestation of a bigger and more enthusiatically lived life. I actually write them down daily and date them so that I am able to reflect, later on, upon the sheer audacity of thinking them and how wonderful to feel them manifest.
I wish I could tell you it was a Shazaam kind of a thing, or as simple as taking a pill or nip tucking my burgeoning jowls behind my ears, but it wasn’t that way for me. I went kicking and screaming to the daily practice of happiness and have the battered heart to prove it. I can say out loud though that it really is a better simpler way to live. And the dumpsters full of worries, unrealizable expectations, and generally fear-related imaginings that occupied many, many, many years of my life have been picked up, trucked off the property of my person and dumped out into the universe. I wish all of that diffuse negative energy the best.
I’m moving forward happily, not perfectly you might note, but certainly with this great big ball of light inside of me that whirls around and yearns to get out and touch another. And touch I do, in all of the assisting, coaxing and cajoling I do in my yoga business. It is wonderful to experience the power of touch, to witness someone else’s physical and emotional transformation, to feel it myself in my own professional and personal life.
I have been touched by the originality and sheer loveliness of my own self-love; open, honest and fun. I’m just going to keep leaning into it, toward it, open up completely to it. Like the pot of pansies in my kitchen, turning their bright, colorful, funky faces toward the sun, in love with that light, oh that light, blossoming anew.