REUNION
Letting go of others’
expectations and beliefs
I’m finally coming
home to my self.
Poem written in response to the Chalkboard prompt “reunion” by Chris Coolsma. 9.3.20
And then there’s people.* That relationship, the one that leaves you wanting a glass of wine or two or three.
The problem with “coming” is you aren’t there yet. You’re in that in-between space where you aren’t where you were, but you haven’t arrived to that place where you fly consistently from you inner guidance.
When I arrive, I believe I’ll be able to be with others without judgment, without defense. I resist the idea that I may move on and leave them. Why? Is it fear of being alone? Self-judgement because I should be able to hang with anyone? I mean Jesus did, didn’t He?
Maybe I’m not accepting others where they are, maybe I’m still trying to tweak them just enough so there’s no rub. Maybe, maybe, maybe….
Awash in “maybes,” I’m going to stop, breath and accept the not knowing. Get out of my head and trust it’s just the way it is right now. I know if I’m to see something or to do something, it will come to me. I just keep forgetting.
*no this isn’t you.
This one is luscious in ohh so many ways. As always, thank you.
Wonderful in depth musings, Barbara…. got me to wondering… is ‘arriving’ a story I tell myself? Or do I just keep on going (forward and backward), growing, with no arrival. As always, you invite me dive in, my friend… and even to forgive myself (and others) for not having arrived.
Thought provoking, Barb, in a most delicious way. The notion of arriving, at least for me, is something that is not finite. Instead arriving is a continuous form of evolving. I prefer to think of the state of having arrived as the end place, “Heaven” as some of us might call it.
Like a hummingbird I come and go from my deep state of consciousness. I could not bear to stay there forever or for long, as I need the ground beneath my feet, a touch of reality. As a hummingbird I chirp with delight when I come upon a brilliant tasty morsel of expectation which I am able to fulfill, my own or another’s, after all, we all flower and bloom out in our own time, drawing the other to us. And like the hummingbirds, my wings drum and thunder when I have had enough and decide to move on. I remember where they are, my flower people, my deeply ingrained desires to please and to disobey, to thwart and to dis-appoint them by proving I can fly on my own. But I come back, I return. They are within me, part of me and my experience. How can I be who I am without them, without you, Barb. How can I leave them and remain who I am. We are all connected. This is the forgettable and undeniable truth which is on trial as I type. We are just one. We cannot leave, but we can sort out and realize and keep what means something for now, the thing we need to ponder and step all over to get to the next step, the next bloom tomorrow’s blossom. Power and Love to YOU.