Life is Untidy

Life can be untidy

Sitting here I notice remains of a weekend.  There is a small child's tent pitched near my red chair, the place I drink tea and center myself.  There are dishes done that need to be put away and dishes undone next to the table - the space I write.  Yet what feels right to me is to sit here amongst the untidiness and write.  

Outside the wind is blowing and the sun is shining fiercly illuminating the burned grass, the green leaves and all of the fallen leaves and branches.  In this hemisphere, Nature is moving from a time of most light to a time of dominant darkness.  Saturday passed was the day of equal light and dark the Autumnal Equinox.  With so much transition outside and inside I am choosing to align with what feels best for myself.  I heard a teacher say last week - listen to the language of sensation.

I remind myself that I have a story, and my past has left me with many sensations about the present and the future.  While there are notable chapters (birth to school age, school age, adulthood, marriage, motherhood), it feels there are so many parts of my life that are untidy.  My relationship with my mother is the perfect example.  This weekend she came for a visit.  We had a lovely time talking, playing with August and making meals for one another.  It always feel good to see my mom in the fall, because it was a favorite time for us during my childhood.  We would create Halloween costumes and have fun outings to celebrate.  Yet my mother and I can be so close one moment and so far away another moment.  By the end of the weekend we had worked our way into a disagreement over her smoking.  I have zero tolerance for smoking or even for the remains of smoking (smelling it on a person's skin or clothing) on my property.  My mother and I go back and forth about what truly poses a health risk.  August's doctors say even third hand smoke, the smoke on someone's skin or clothes or furniture is dangerous to healthy lungs.  My mom argues that this can't be true.  Not that others should do as I do, but that I need to physically refuse to co-exist in smoking environments.  My distaste for smoke is heightened now that I have August's health to consider.  She left my home under the understanding that we were taking an extended period of space in our relationship.  I don't know what will happen in the future - sure feels untidy - messy even.

I do know that my story is that while growing up my Mom smoked in the house and I have memories of waking up often with a sore throat - sometimes unable to breath completely - feeling engulfed in the prison of this smoke.  I think my Mom has a difficult time accepting my truth.  And I am not willing to deny it anymore.  I am ferocious in my desire to change the patterns of my story that have blocked the illumination of Pure Consciousness.  I will not be deterred moving in the direction that feels best for me and my family.  I am sure it poses its caveats, perhaps the repurcussions yet to be seen of my self-righteousness.   But my tenacity comes from a deep desire to give my son the best chance at a happy, healthy life.  And that possibillity begins with me being as happy and healthy as I can be too.

The transition from Summer to Fall is challenging for many of us.  Our stories are speaking from the inside more loudly when there are seasonal shifts, because they don't just happen on the outside - changes are happening inside too.  My story is sacred.  It invites me to let go of old, broken ways of moving through life and to trust myself enough to move in the direction that feels best.  Maybe this makes me sensitive, but that is my gift and also my challenge.  Most importantly it is my truth.  

I am taking a que from Nature this week and moving more deeply inward.  I pray that my actions reflect a dedication to my truth in the hope to bring beautiful balance during a time of transition.  As I listen and accept myself I am cultivating the warmth of compassion and love and that is what I send outward.  

May you move in ways that feel good.