Contraction & expansion. Each of us having our own moments… one or the other not more right. Both, actually, essential.
Evolution is expansion and contraction.
And though I focus mightily on the word expansion and even optimysm, life isn’t always like that.
It’s a mixture of both expansion and contraction. The nature of our physical universe. And that which is beyond (and preceeds) the physical.
The flow of movement, like the sea moving across a thousand sandy beaches today. It’s constant. Like eternity.
Last week and well into this one, contraction moves in and around me. And at times, my attention feels consumed with subject matter I’d rather not be thinking about at all. Nonetheless, I do keep thinking about things that keep a pit in my belly or a 500 pound block on my chest. And sometimes I can get my head so cloudy with thinking, I can no longer see the words on my computer screen.
Under the influence of contrast or contraction.
It makes us do funny things. Under the influence of contraction, I’m cut out of my current time and space. Hurled into isolation. My attention consumed by painful thoughts. Separation. Separated. Away from. Beyond reach. Alone.
Why do I choose to share this with you?
Because it’s part of the path. And I frequently wish that some of my favorite people I love to read, would share more about their own encounters with the shadow. And all the different ways we process our painful parts. I want to know, that even when I think I am alone, you’ve been there also.
A bit of comfort, in my sojourn, through this dark passage.
Darkness does fall. From time-to-time. Until a moment that comes in my dark place when I am able to hear Hope whispering. And immediately after, the relief of Dawn.
And I’m through. Re-emerging again with a new lightness. Acknowledging my traveling companions beside me, courage and bravery.
Contraction is part of my expansion. I make peace with this. I’ll deny it not. For in my darkest moment, a desire is born within. That takes my own personal expansion beyond where it’s ever been before.
Contraction creates in me, a great moment of asking. And oh how I ask.
i don’t feel like i belong
into segments of time
i belong to those i serve
i belong to a calendar, that tells me who is next
who has lined up for more of me
because there is a line
which reinforces the belief
there is not enough me to go around
certainly not for all of you
and i miss myself
the more i give away me
the more i must give to myself
the more i’m called to love me
and matter to me…
instead of disappearing into tiny little pieces