What is the Truth of My Life? This comes at the end of a prayer that I composed. The prayer became part of my practice before sitting down to work on my memoir, Real People. Now I say it before I sit down to write this blog each week.
There is something that happens with the words, “may the flow of my pen speak the truth of my life,” that brings me to a place inside from which I can write.
This morning, as I sit here and listen to the chimes on the corner of the porch resonate with the wind, I ask—what is the truth of my life today?
So far, I’ve noticed that with the completion of my Lenten practice, I am less present, less sensitive. My movements are quicker, rattling pots and pans in the kitchen even though I know my husband is doing a sitting. Negativity is creeping back into internal spaces it used to occupy but had largely vacated in the past forty days.
The question arises—what is my relationship with myself moving forward? The answer is not to mechanically continue the practices I just ended. Or to mechanically replace them. How to proceed?
Part of me says to recognize the need to “take a break.”Part of me feels there is an opportunity here to “take a step.”
Part of me acknowledges that whatever happens, it needs to be of my own creation, from my own initiative, part of my own personal work.
Is my Work calling me to make an act of effort, or of letting go?
Finding What is True
It’s the taste that can guide me. The taste of Work. When that is there, then I find myself firmly seated in what the truth of my life is. I don’t have to be perfect, or good even. But to see, some presence and separation is needed.
That happened this morning. I heard the pots rattle, I watched myself not really care if I was disturbing, I felt the niggling of negativity. And I wondered about it. Where was it coming from, why was it happening? And does it need to continue? Can something relax in me and let go of old habits?
It feels like what I’m looking for is a shift, a repositioning from the whole of me. It may involve an act of Will, an internal “yes” that is not said from the head, but from a buy-in of all of me. From my feelings, from my physical body, and yes, from my head as well. I’m sorry I can’t be more specific about what I’m saying “yes” to. I believe it has something to do with incorporating the wish To Be so that it becomes part of the Truth of my Life.
Maybe, Roberta “To Be” is a letting go ….
My personal experience is … I’ve noticed I often / or sometimes search myself for negativity (negative thoughts, or actions) – it’s so easy – it’s human. 🙂
I try to not analyze it …. then it takes space and importance. This space pushes out the allowance “To Be”, and I find myself down a rabbit hole.
I remind myself of the Rumi saying :
“Be like the sun for grace and mercy. Be like the night to cover others’ faults. Be like running water for generosity. Be like death for rage and anger. Be like the Earth for modesty. Appear as you are. Be as you appear.”
Compassion for oneself.
Does this make sense?
Yes. This makes sense. I think we become overwrought with the parts of ourselves that we lose the thread of stitching ourselves into unity. Struggle and mistakes and even internal considering and negativity are facts of earthly existence — it would be simple to ask J if the kitchen noise disturbs his sitting and then plan around accordingly.
I would recommend *dropping all AM exercises completely* and just sit and breathe and see what that brings. Or rest in the Jesus prayer or some other old / new prayer alone for awhile. And keep it there at the kitchen sink. But you know this.
Hi Cindy, yes. The notion of actually Being in oneself as one is being oneself, is sitting with me.
The candor and level of self awareness shared in this post, from such a faithful student in the Work over the past 50 years, is remarkably helpful. Thank you, Roberta.
Gently.