I don’t know! I’m grateful for the perspectives here. I want to live this YES more. In my experience right now, slowing down and being present to all my needs and feelings seems to be the ground out of which any safe yes to anything comes, whether that’s a relationship, a risk in writing and sharing it, a big trip somewhere, or any other experience that involves the need to take care of myself. Then I’m ready to feel the beauty and joy and adventure that I want to dive into so fully…

I find myself at a loss for words today. Reading about the attack in England and all the feelings it stirred up is with me right now, and concern for what it seems to mean about the world we’re in, with conflict and oppression and division and isolation being so rampant. I’m feeling what “grateful sea” wrote about how we can be the peace we wish to see in the world, and come from a place of being primarily, letting doing flow from there. This feels like a profound shift for me.

Also, I felt a little overwhelmed by all the compassionate responses to my post about dealing with illness, so I didn’t get a chance to respond to everyone, but I wanted to say it moved me deeply and I appreciate peoples’ thoughtfulness with all of my heart.

Hope everyone is taking care out there! <3

This is such a great question, and I find many helpful insights in what people have written here. I’ve had pain for 16 years now related to arthritis that developed as an aspect of Lyme Disease. Because I didn’t catch it early, the Lyme got into my nervous system and caused me intense nerve pain for about 3 years. While I still have arthritis, I’m very fortunate to have found healing for the nerve pain through IVIG medication and acupuncture.

Pain has still been with me almost every day to some degree, though, mostly in my spine (though every day I hope is the day it can change). When it’s strong and I can’t distract from it, I sometimes breathe into it and welcome the sensations lovingly, and a flood of tears move through me, and I see that the pain has given rise to a basic fear that somehow I don’t belong or am not cared for by life or the universe, and the tears are the expression of my body-heart-mind letting go of that belief.

Then I find even with some level of pain (not always, but often), there can be this experience of a loving space within me naturally holding it. In those moments there’s a rediscovery of the aspect of my true nature that is a space of love and holding, which is a beautiful gift to be in touch with.

Thank you for reading this long post today, anyone who took the time. Sending out loving holding-ness to any pains you’re carrying… <3

So good reading all the ways people are recounting how they’re fortunate. I often forget, but yes – just to be alive, to be able to see this screen, to connect with any of you at all, to eat, to live in a place with ample trees, to be able to walk around, to have kind friends, to hear! All these things I often take for granted and so many more.

And I’d say also the capacity of consciousness to hold experience in love and compassion, to find meaning in suffering, to grow and be grateful and be in wonder at life!

Good to remember with you all today… ????

I couldn’t resist looking up the roots of “enemy” for clarity regarding this mysterious and powerful word. Apparently it comes from the Latin “inimicus,” which is a combo of “in” (meaning not) and “amicus” (meaning friend).

So, going by this definition, what can I learn from someone who’s not my friend, who I may not be allowing myself to feel connected to and caring toward on some level? It seems I learn where my own heart is closed, where I’m projecting unwanted aspects of myself, and where the depths of my aliveness are not fully seen and embraced (by myself)…

I’m not sure. I sometimes like to search for deeper clarity by looking into the origins of words. Looking up “authentic,” I see that the roots are a combination of autos, meaning “self,” and hentes, meaning “doer, being.” Both of these root words are Greek, as far as I can tell (it’s a little unclear).

Self-doing or self-being reminds me of time spent in nature, where the trees and birds and wind and clouds are so utterly themselves, and seem to shine with this simple, naked beingness.

So I wonder if it’s possible to shine more authentically as my deepest self by letting go more today, particularly of the focus on all that mind can scramble around focusing on (the future, past regrets, figuring things out, to do lists, beliefs about myself, etc.). And maybe one way to do this is by letting my attention rest in the beauty of nature.

Maybe then this simple beingness shines more brightly, though it seems it’s always here even when covered by mental fixations…

It seems to me this question comes with another question that (as far as I can tell) is impossible to really answer, which is “what is spiritual?”

If spirituality is thought of as all that life is, and what both holds and is the substance of all life is, then I’d say there’s no life without risk. To be born, to walk across a street (or drive a car), to love, to state an opinion of any kind, to learn something new that challenges all I’ve believed, to stand up for others and for the earth – all this seems inherently risky to me.

And yet is there that which isn’t touched by all this, that’s also true to who or what we all are? It feels like there is. It seems to me that language or conceptual thought has no way of putting this into words though.

So I’m with Kevin – yes and no! And I’m grateful to let go into all that I can’t understand. 🙂

This is a small example, but stating my frustration (in a gentle way, without any blame, owning it as my feeling, and making a request around something) to my housemate the other day created a real shift for us. I basically was letting him know: how you communicate with me matters to me, it moves my feelings and I want you to know what respect in this particular area looks like to me, because our relationship is important.

I think it was vulnerable because I was afraid to admit I was frustrated – afraid that this would result in rejection or being blamed or humiliated.

Yet in fact it resulted in him apologizing, validating my perspective, and voicing his desire for me to be respected in the way I was asking. He also expressed gratitude for being able to learn about himself this way, his effect on others at times.

The end result was more trust and closeness between us, rather than the resentment I was struggling to let go of on my own. I think moments of such communication are so beautiful, and can bring people together, even if they include a little conflict.