“I’m allowing it to come… To receive it when it does, on its own perfect timing.” Words spoken by yours truly. When old wisdom whispers, “be patient, my dear.” I am. Trusting life is the only honest form of surrendering to your own energy paving the way. So, when nothing seems to make a difference. When that something is not ripe, not ready, not there yet to feel the movement of change… One becomes still. And observe.
This week I dug a hole. Placed a nice soft blanket quilted with fifty shades of emotions. Got in. And made myself comfortable. Songs shared on high volume. Every lyric, word spoken, written… A ballad to my heart. Pleasure to my senses. I felt it seeping deeply with each breath. Traveling in my body. Imprinting.
I could have stopped it. I could have paused the music. I could have raised my hands, opened my heart and reach for the light, while making a powerful declaration… But I didn’t. I wanted to stay there in the hole. With my blanket, and the music and him. I wanted to feel it all. The way I use to. But I didn’t… I didn’t cry of hurt or sadness… Tears were streaming, and I was sobbing, but not for the same reasons. Instead, I felt so loved. What a gift!? The simple beauty of what is. This Love. Time has not faded it. Mutual respect held it. We come back to each other just a little stronger, wiser, closer.
So, while drifting into the pitter-patter of today’s rain, I held my heart, for it filled me with compassion. How have I been responding to his needs? His wants? His wishes? I didn’t. And I remembered one basic study of the skills of loving. “If you let me know what your needs are, within the limits of my value system, I will not run away. I will be there for you.”
I respect his limitations. Responding in my own best way. I’ll support his decision to do, as he feels right on his own timing. And I will allow it to come, ready to receive it when it does.
Bridges.
I’ll meet him on his bridge. The way he wishes. I’m willing to wait. For whatever emerges. For whatever is meant for us… On his bridge.