She was thirteen when she realized she was pretty.
She was fifty-three the day she was overcome with a sadness she recognized but couldn’t name.
She wept. Right there in her living room while brilliant, warm sunlight poured through the giant picture window.
She was unafraid of drowning.
This is how a life of offering is unfolding for me.
It seems to come with a presence of soul. An ability to allow whatever comes up to just “Be” as fully as it is intended to be. So, when sadness bubbles up, I’m unafraid of drowning. And when Michael Franti sings “Hey, Now, Now” ~ I dance. With all the joy, no matter where I am. That, to me is the best of a life of offering. All the feels. Without fear of drowning in any of them.
As I’ve been making my way to and through the ending of a marriage, I’ve offered the situation to Divine Love every day. Sometimes in every moment of every day. It might not be the ritual that one would expect of offering. I’m not so much begging for help, although that does happen, but I’m offering mySelf to the Divine. My Whole Self.
While I have been all stages of desperate for answers about how this will unfold, I’ve also yearned in a very real way for the Highest Good to come from this experience. I don’t just say “Divine Beloved, I offer this whole sticky mess to you to deal with. Free me from this situation. Thank you very much.”
My prayers have been more.
“Divine Beloved, please change me into One who can trust Your timing in this. Let me rest in this sea of not knowing what is to come. Let me be kind, truly kind to myself and to others. Change me into One who remembers to breathe and stay present so I can see the path when the time is right.” And all kinds of shorter, prayers like “Let the Highest begin to occur in this life…”
I knew without question this relationship had something to show me. It has always been one of my greatest teachers, but I could feel change coming like a locomotive. I knew it would be big change, but I wasn’t so bold to believe I knew what it would be. You can never turn your back on change thinking you know how she’ll present herself.
When things in our house would get so tense that I would beg God for relief, beg for the next step to be shown, I was always given the “caution”, “wait”, “slow” sign. It was so frustrating at times. But the signs were always so clear. I couldn’t ignore them. Once when I said “Okay God, this is unbearable. I’m taking this to mean that I should go. I’m leaving this house. I’ve made a decision. If I’m about to do something stupid, please stop me.” Thirty minutes later, I’m shopping and every aisle I turn down is blocked. No joke. Blocked. By people who don’t even seem to notice me, let alone make room for me to pass. After a solid ten minutes of this, I just laughed. “Okay. Point taken.”
The way things finally unfolded between us was so much more than the beginning of the end of a marriage. It was like a bright light was being shone on my entire life. It was an instant “knowing” of all the ways I’d orchestrated this very moment long before we had ever met.
The things I decided about myself when I was thirteen were visiting me today. So were all the ways over the last twenty-three years of our relationship that I put space between us without meaning to. Or, maybe I did mean to. There’s also an incident of immediate karma that I’ll share when it stings a little less. When I can more readily see the humor. Because it is actually funny ~ in the most humiliating way. This immediate karma is, I believe, one of the big reasons it was important to wait.
I am resting in the unknown right now. Waiting ~ mostly patiently for a clear path to appear. My cat and me in an upstairs room in a chateau in magical McDonald Forest. All I know for sure right now is that I feel a deep and abiding faith that even in this sad ending, scary unknown, all really is well.