Tenderness

Against All Odds

There were moments of deeply felt grief, having endured a long, intense spiritual and human journey. There were regrets and lingering physical scars and emotional wounds.  And there was tenderness, something that was understood deep down to somehow be the whole point.

There was the understanding, in the brief moments of outer calm, that I had given up many things on this journey — but not this. I wouldn’t have been able to endure without this tenderness of spirit.

I wouldn’t have been able to be present in a world of challenges without having broken apart and come back together. I wouldn’t have been able to look at overwhelming challenges and destruction without knowing what is possible. I had been to the edge of destruction in my own way and had, against all odds, transformed — not with my own limited human self alone, but in cooperation with something much bigger that I didn’t quite understand.

At a certain point, it became clear that standing on the edge of destruction was only one way this thing could go. It was possible to be moved also by respect and compassion for having made it so far and the passion to prevent future suffering wherever I could. It was possible to nurture and allow the smallest spark of pure love to ignite.

Continuing On

Always

Sometimes the only thing

I knew to do

was to keep going,

which undoubtedly meant

surrendering to the creative flow

of life.

And so there was the

painful dropping of pieces

I had held so carefully

and an understanding

I seemed to have with God

that I would sometimes

hold on a little longer,

push ahead,

lose my center,

and struggle to find any

resemblance of grace.

But I would always keep going.

Quieting

Out of Nothingness

It was the small miracles,

the quiet inspirations, that kept my heart

pressing on long enough

to find a path that didn’t lead

further away from itself.

It was the gentle, comforting way

words formed out of nothingness

and courage was found

to look challenges in the face —

knowing the transformative power

of surrender first hand.

It was the remembrance of the

turning away from my own heart

and that first step

taken to find a way back.

Continuing On, Unsorted

Somehow

When I looked back, after a while, the story I had carried had faded. It was the subtler, sometimes painfully subtle story beyond the surface that kept my attention.

It was the faint memory of all the times I had managed to allow a quieting,  just enough to hear the quiet prayer spoken from my own heart — somewhere long ago.

It was each moment I had allowed my heart to remain open, even though I was sure I didn’t know how to continue on, that had woven a more beautiful story — somehow.

Softening

In My Heart and in the World

I learned to look for the light in every experience, no matter how dark it looked at first glance. It meant being willing to not know exactly how situations would transform, while knowing they would in fact transform.
It meant being willing to be still in my heart and diligent with thoughts while daring to place my feet in the world of form.
There was a delicate softening — the transformation into tenderness. Tenderness spilled over again and again from the ever-present quiet prayer within my deepest heart.