Change is the subject of most my days these days. It comes as though I’ve left the door ajar for its entering, so I welcome it inside always seeming to forget to close the door behind it. Each time I learn to sit with change, get to know it and what of its visit comes with learning. I want to be open always to learning, to growing, and to being present enough to flow through change even when the way feels eerie with uncertainty and the kind of mystery looking of smoke-filled clouds that hover and haunt.
Since my decision to leave my stable life in California for a near year in Mexico, and now Atlanta, change has truly been my constant. Before that was only known on a very surface level, even around death and dying. The changes never fully uprooted my life, and yet now, I live with the roots exposed. It’s like they’re seeking higher ground while still being nurtured in something familiar. I am that familiarity. My body, mind, and spirit are the things that remain the true soil even as these roots shift and shape and shift again and reshape. I’m learning how to be a branch and allow my life to sway with the breeze of change.
Those breezes have been steady, at times even through the coldest of nights when I wish for a bit of warmth. I feel the singe of cold the way hot ice shocks. Rather than jumping with fear or running to flee, I practice leaning in and understanding more fully what is happening from the inside out. How am I meeting this consistent breeze of change even when a warm blanket is my deepest desire? I look at myself as if with an internal microscope that checks the physiological changes resulting from my mental and emotional states. Am I resisting and contracting, or am I feeling the discomfort while gracefully allowing things to be as they are? I’ve been told by those close to me that I practice the latter. There’s something about that that feels comforting even while I share with them the pain—not suffering—that can come with simply being with what is, yet I know that is the only way to freedom.
I trust in the highest vibration of life, and that faith sustains me, truly so. It’s something difficult to explain and yet I feel it deeply on the inside. I believe in life’s Magic and nothing is capable of turning me from that truth. That’s where the exposed roots of my being are nestled. That’s the place where I planted seeds and have been cultivating them year after year. That is the place where the light gets through and where the door has been ajar for those seeds to breathe, and to feel the warmth of the sun in order to manifest. It is all connected. This is why change continues to come and enter, and why the door doesn’t get closed. I know that a closed door shuts off flow, and that the only way to move atop the current of change, is to keep the breeze blowing.
I am inside of practice. I am inside the insides of change—the doing and the undoing, the known and the unknown—and I am leaning in order to arrive on the other side. I know that there on the other side the foundation is steady, the trees have grown big, tall, and bold, and love wafts through the air from every inhale and exhale. For now, while I hang out a bit longer on the side of what is, I celebrate the magic of contrast, and I sit on the couch feeling the breeze blow through the openings. Hello, life. You are welcome here.