Trust

I need a practice, something to ground me, something to communicate to my deeper self that she, that I matter, that truth is what I am ultimately in pursuit of. I am so often making these pacts and promises to myself to honour this life, this purpose and, falling short, I erode my own faith in my integrity, my resolve and my essential goodness. But these unkind criticisms do not serve to reform, I am only drawn further away from my source that in so doing.

I am not sure of my really living my life. I feel pain, there is such a deep sorrow which is present when I try to hear the longing in my heart to pursue a greater purpose, a deeper truth. Such a longing to feel at 'home' whether that home is a place, a community or a sense of comfort in my own being... I long for it through uncertainty. I yearn and in yearning feel such a sorrow, such a great loss and lost-ness. There is a longing also to express this, to put words or feeling and image to my experience. Even just to put movement to it. To walk it, dance it, hold it with tenderness. I need to express and yet I feel so barred from it. A prison of my own keeping, built by conditions as yet unpacked or healed.

Of late, I feel defeated, cornered and a fading of spirit, of the passion to keep fighting. I won't give up, I cannot, but some days the weight of all this emotion unexpressed and in some ways unknown crushes me. I feel unequal to the task of feeling it all even if in pursuit of letting it go. I am comforted maybe in being used to the burden, worried and fearful of what I would be without all these definitions I at once resist and yet layer upon myself. The mantra; "I am not this____" is something my too busy intellect disbelieves and continuously disassembles. My mind, my ego, against the notion that in this line of acceptance there could be the eventual realization that I am not it. I am ever challenged to trust.

Trust, that I am more than all this, or less than all this perhaps... simpler I mean, than all these complications mind creates.
Trust, that I am moving forward toward truth and some grace in this life despite, and maybe because, of what feel like such great setbacks. Trust that they only feel great because buried so long they gained importance upon unearthing in a way like antiquities. Trust that I am not failing, but that releasing takes time, takes committing again and again.... to this.
Trust that 'faith' is not an action or a task, but a way of being and relating that frees.
Trust, that love heals and trust that I am worthy and deserving of that healing, of love.
Trust that I have something worth saying and that I have the right, inalienable, to say it.

I can trust that following my heart will not lend me off the path, even if it follows the occasional detour,
I trust that I am here with purpose and reason... even if that purpose is in the end only to have learned to trust.

I need this practice to bring me back into myself, to redirect my search for 'home' inward, to reconnect my heart to the roots and tendrils of the earth, under it, around it. To lose my small self for a moment and merge with all that is greater, realize I am that and not limited to this body, these memories, these feelings or wounds, these dramas.

I can rewrite my stories and weave them together into a much greater myth. I can be more, and it begins write here, with this practice, this page, each honest word, each entry anew.