Yesterday I woke up, energized about the week ahead — my creative juices already flowing and molding ideas around content and curriculum for Whole Hearts in Love.
On my way to the bathroom, I glanced at the headlines on my iPhone. “Massacre,” “Vegas,” “50 dead” flashed on the tiny glowing screen in the pre-dawn darkness. A wave of nausea passed through me as I stepped into the shower and I let the scalding water pound my neck and back. From a small distance from my body, I watched and waited as the ground of my inner landscape buckled and caved. I added breath, giving more space to take in the enormity of the new data.
How much more can we take? Sandy Hill, Charlottesville, Vegas… Houston, Puerto Rico… People and places, senseless suffering.
I went to make the bed. But instead, I crawled back in. Fully clothed. I hid in the dark cave of comforter and blankets for maybe thirty minutes. Heart pounding, body trembling. Gathering myself to face the day.
Prayers for the victims and their families. Prayers for the responders. Prayers for all of us. For all sides. Though, there really are no sides — we are acting out this particular paradigm together.
Prayers for myself. To not let myself be overtaken by the despair. To not go into hiding when I hurt. To claim that this space that my being and body occupy is free.
Prayers to carry on anyway. To be heartbroken and still put one foot in front of the other. Prayers to know how and when to help, in a way that is aligned with my truth and sourced in freedom. Most of all, prayers to see, know and experience myself as capable of having an impact.
As I emerged from my dark cave of blankets, moving ahead with my week anyway, I wondered: when will enough of us love ourselves enough?
When will we love ourselves enough to create a society worthy of the true nature of our infinite selves? When will we love ourselves enough to fully understand that we are the answer. Or, to speak for myself, when will I love myself enough to create a society worthy of the true nature of my infinite self?
Today, as I write to understand yesterday’s horrific events, I discover a once buried channel to source within. Where I have been feeling powerless to create the change I want to see, and powerless to access information that I can even trust, a switch has flipped. I experience clarity and knowing that that powerlessness is not true. It’s a sneaky kind of energy that is simply part and parcel of the old paradigm we have been acting out together.
I discover a new depth of commitment to creating the kind of world I want to live in. I don’t know what action I will take yet. Become more engaged in local politics? Educate myself more on gun laws? Take a greater stand for civil rights? Yes, yes and yes. As long as I am tuned into the wavelength of wholeness that says “I love myself so much that I choose to experience myself as fully empowered to contribute to the welfare of the world.”
I choose, not because of a “should,” not out of belligerence, and not as a rejection of what I (we) have created so far, but as a testament to the spirit that lives within. The soul on its forever journey, moving in the direction of wholeness. Wholeness, which is not a destination but an ever expanding orientation of self sourcing and self empowerment in a universe of interconnectedness.