It’s 2:35 pm on 494 and I haven’t had to fight the traffic. I’m flitting through possibilities, diving into the treasure chest, open to the encounter, reminding my dashboard, out loud that my job is not to come up with answers, but to be there for the questions; open, vulnerable, wordless even. For me, always a challenge.
I’m remembering a Bob Marley quote, surprisingly: “Some people feel the rain. Others just get wet.” As I pull into the parking lot, I’m softening into the former, rejecting the messiness of the latter, when suddenly the force of Self hits me so hard that I wait for a moment and relinquish myself to myself, realizing quite suddenly that the only thing that matters in this deliciousness is how much I allow and how much I give. I’m floating, pink lipstick perfectly applied, unabashedly awash in a feeling so pure, alight within the gift I realize, once again, I am quite humbly the facilitator, hoping against hope for a downpour.
And today, without coincidence, my 3:00 client, a woman I have come to know and love and nurture pretty well, is the perfect recipient. So I tell her, somewhere between hip/strap and legs up the wall: “I see you as you truly are; unzipped, unraveled, unstuck. Let your journey be from here to here. There is nothing you need to become, there is only that which you already are; truly limitless, joyful, peaceful and free. Accept the invitation to step once again into your own magnificence.” And in this fierce, ferociously unfathomable power of the giving, we are both complete.