One day I got it that life isn’t supposed to get completely sorted out. I understood there is always a place of unsettledness. Who’s to say what and how much to sort through and surrender and how much to leave alone in the transformative state of raw tenderness?
I couldn’t help but look back on all the time and energy spent trying find someone or something to help me out of the mess in my head. I thought of all the countless dramas I had acted out in my life in hope of a solution to this unresolved trauma — my piece of the collective suffering.
Then I got it that at any point I could have seen that I was okay with where I was (because of course I was more okay than I knew). I could have identified with the healer in me, the totality of all of the parts of me that had struggled to find relief — not knowing they didn’t need to go it alone.
And so in that moment, I vowed to not waste one more bit of energy doing things that only tired me out, including all useless kinds of thinking. I vowed to keep my heart open to the quiet prayer within.
Sometimes enough is enough.