blogging

Kristin Noelle has a new blog, Trust Tending, which is all about what trust means in our lives.  The subtitle of Trust Tending is Reflections, Conversations, and Art to Nourish Life Beyond Fear.  I love Kristin’s writing and her drawing, and think she’s exploring some very important and fertile terrain on Trust Tending.

Kristin interviewed me yesterday on the topic of trust, which is my (very first!) word of the year.  I’m so honored to have my thoughts featured on her beautiful site.  You can find the interview here.  Stay a while and check out Kristin’s whole blog.

When I started thinking about my word of the year, trust, and thinking about what that word really means to me, one thought rose almost immediately to my mind.  And that was of Tracey Clark.  I love Tracey’s blog and have been a long-time reader.  And in her I Am Enough Collaborative I find almost the purest expression of what I mean by trust when I claim it as my word.  Tracey’s collaborative is about learning, owning, and embracing the true worthiness that resides in each of us.  It is about trusting that we are, in fact, enough.  It was a distinct honor to share my story in the collaborative this past summer, and it’s one of the places in the wilds of the internet that I feel the strongest sense of identification.

Tracey’s whole blog is gorgeous.  She shares stunning photographs, writes of her daily life, both with her children and as an individual, and basically makes me both cry and smile every single time I read her.  I loved the words she shared with me about trust.  I hope you do too.

We plant Seeds. We till and mulch and water. We nurture and wait knowing that if we take proper care that the seed will grow. We trust. We are patient. The work below the surface is happening; we know it is just as it has been proven to us time and time again, without ever seeing it. We never question. We just tend to it. And wait patiently.

So what about the Seeds of our Dreams? We plant and nurture and wait. But too often we don’t trust the work that is happening under the surface. The magic can’t always be seen but that doesn’t mean it’s not happening. The waiting leads to wondering which leads to questioning and doubting. We forget that waiting is an essential part of the process.

After we plant the Seeds of our gardens there is waiting. And waiting. And we never once wonder, what if? Or Is it working? Or Will I have tomatoes red, ripe and juicy at the harvest? Of course we will. We always do. When the Seeds of our Dreams are working and growing in ways unseen by our own eyes, why do we wonder and fret that maybe our dreams won’t come into fruition? Do we not have faith in our own Dreams, our own growth process like we do in our garden?

It’s a slow process watching our fruits and vegetables gain momentum from unassuming seed, to tiny promising sprig, to thriving vine to precious new flower to budding fruit to ripe and juicy bountiful gifts. And amidst this process we carry on with our daily lives. We wash dishes and linens. We prepare our kitchen and set the table. We pour over recipes, plan our meals, and look forward to the feast. And what about our Dreams? Instead of carrying on from a place of eager anticipation of the goodness to come, we wring our hands, discount and distrust the growing process. We water one day and parch the soil the next out of fear and uncertainty. We are afraid to hope. Afraid to put our energy and work into something that might not bloom. What if our dreams don’t thrive? we worry.

What would happen if we deliberately choose to leave to questioning behind? What if it isn’t a matter of IF they will grow but rather WHEN they will grow? As our Dream Seeds begin to grow, sight unseen, what if we choose not to worry and wonder? What if we just use the waiting time to prepare?

As my recently planted Dream Seeds lay quietly sit beneath the surface of my life, they are working, silently but steadily gaining their own momentum. I am nurturing them tenderly as I know that my faithful unwavering practice will eventually lead to a harvest. There is nothing I can do to speed the process so instead, as I hold in my heart excitement for the fruition of my Dreams, as my mouth waters in anticipation of the juicy adventures that are the horizon, I will prepare. I will ready my heart and soul. I will wash the dishes and do the laundry. I will take the time to tidy my home honoring what is to come. I will wake each morning to my watering can and tend to my Dreams but I will not rush them. And I certainly will not doubt them. I will be patient and approach each day knowing that I don’t have much time to until my Dreams are ripe on the vine. I want to be ready for the harvest; to have much of the work out of the way so that when my Dreams are ready I will be too.

In celebration of my first-ever word of the year, Trust, I have decided to ask a few writers to share their thoughts on the topic.  It was easy to think about who to ask first: Julie Daley represents the absolute embodiment of trust as I mean it.  Her writing never fails to move me.  In the embrace of her words I feel that I might be able to sense – and, ultimately, trust – the divine feminine that moves within me.  (at least, she says it does).  Julie’s writing and thinking is graceful and has both the fluidity and power of moving water.

I love the piece she has shared today because it is about pigeon, which is probably the single most difficult and simultaneously profound yoga pose for me.  Please read her words on what it is to trust – our bodies, our lives, our selves, and the universe.  Nobody says it like Julie does.  It is an honor to share her words with you here.

***

Sometimes, moments of trust can appear when you least expect them. Sometimes, it simply takes awareness. Awareness of when we trust, how we trust and what we trust in; awareness of who we are, what we are, and what we’re willing to experience; and awareness of when we grab a hold, when we let go, and what happens when we simply sit with it all.

I’ve discovered that in the question of trust, the body can be a great guide. The body doesn’t lie. The body is our vessel for experiencing life. The body can show us the way if we’re willing to invite it to do so.

On a particular day a few weeks ago, I was entertaining the question of “When do I feel most alive?” for a blog challenge I was involved with. It was Friday, a yoga day. In class, the teacher asked if we had any requests for class (something she does when the class is small). A number of people voiced their requests. Then she mentioned that usually when she asks that question, someone pipes up with ‘Power Yoga’. I realized that’s what I wanted that day, to sweat hard and to push the boundaries of what my body can do, so I raised my hand to make it clear that’s what I wanted.

She laughed, then obliged.

She seemed to fill each of our requests, taking us from intense twists, to shoulder openers, to hip flexor stretches, to the ever-optional Chaturanga, and even a one-legged Chaturanga for me, the one that wanted power yoga.

She then led us into pigeon pose. Here in the intensity of pigeon pose, I remembered the inquiry I’d been holding for the day. I sat, so to speak, with this question of what it is to feel fully alive as my entire pelvic girdle was responding to the immediacy of this invitation to open.

I could feel the tightness of the muscles hanging on, as if to say, “It’s up to us to keep things under control.” And, in contrast to that tightness, I could feel my skeleton resting on the ground, responding to the muscles saying, “It’s okay. I’ve got it. You can let go.”

Alongside this conversation between the muscles and the bones, there was another conversation. I noticed a feeling of something deeper, what I can only call deep awareness, holding my mind as it flitted about, trying to manage the perceived pain of the stretch in which the body was engaged. This deeper place, this place of serenity and constancy simply invited me to let go, to drop in. I found myself dancing between simply being this place of invitation and being the mind with its manic need to manage the experience.

And then it happened. I let go. The muscles gave it over to the bones. The mind let go into the heart. The heart dropped into the body. Something deeper just held it all. And in this moment, I felt the physical palpable opening of the hips, where groin crease relaxed into thigh, and bones settled into the mat. Hot sweat dripped, while pain settled into sensation. Struggling to hold on let go.  Cranial fluid softly pulsed. Joy surfaced on the waves of breath.

It all became simple. Personality acceded to Self.

In this moment, I could feel muscles held by the bones, and bones held by the earth. I could feel the mind held by the heart, and the heart held by the body.

One let go into the next, and before I knew it I felt deeply alive. Human. Open. Trusting.

Invitee.

Invited.

Acceptance.

Simple.

I’m am honored to be writing about my (very first) Word of the Year at Stacey Curnow’s Midwife for Your Life blog today.  Stacey regularly writes beautiful and thought-provoking posts about things that are dear to my heart: the soul, the spirit, what it means to fully inhabit your life.  She also shares fantastic quotations, most of which make me gasp and reach for my quote book in order to write them down.

Please click over and read about my Word of the Year and poke around Stacey’s blog while you’re at it.  You won’t regret it!