The Roots of Thriving

To be honest, an ocean is breaking inside of myself, my daily interactions, my perspective of the future.  With grieving clarity, a new season in my life roots into a groundedness that sees no light. It is working, transporting nourishment through the visible parts of myself .  It is true, I’ve felt branched out in an enriched physical and social connectivity the last 18 months.   And life, without fault or failure, often falls into a state of pruning.

On the radio this week, I pulled from my experience in seminary working with the Search Institute and spoke about thriving. Thriving involves how we respond to the CHANGE in our lives, how we CONTROL our visions and actions and how we CONNECT back to the world, ourselves, others.

And yes, I am breaking, but I  often consider how I thrive in the breaking. It’s a selective shutting down.

There is coming to terms that this change doesn’t “stack up” to the previous season, and that rather trying to compete with some version of myself in my head, that I am processing that things FALL APART. Including myself, previous selves I’ve been and hopes/visions/roles I’ve strived to honor.

And this time, I am refusing to put aside my feelings in preference for a seeming state of smoothness. I will not ignore these desires or try to rationalize them, or quiet them, or tame them in a neat little package as not to disturb others.

An almost stranger told me this week that I have a “charming vulnerability.” I do feel a bit childish lately. But children are the best teachers of the art of loving. They do not expect or demand it as a “fair exchange”…they do not keep count. They receive without guilt and give as an expression of their aliveness and strength. When they have no strength, they do not give. They freely ask for love to come to them.

I am choosing this vision, and not only noticing the change, but leaning into it. And noticing my fear of loneliness, of rejection, of not being the best I can be, of not loving the best I can love.

We can contact our inner strength, our natural openness, for short periods before getting swept away. And this is excellent, heroic, a huge step in interrupting and weakening our ancient habits. If we keep a sense of humor and stay with it for the long haul, the ability to be present just naturally evolves. Gradually we lose our appetite for biting the hook.

Taking the Leap: Freeing Ourselves from Old Habits and Fears, Shambhala Library edition, page 41.

3 thoughts on “The Roots of Thriving

  1. When I read your posts, I often get the impression that you are living on the edge. There is no mediocrity, it seems that you have this strange extremeness inside of yourself which other people might assume you should work on but without recognizing that it’s at the core of your self, so you rather have to work *with* it than against it. I feel that you have this neverending drive to live life to the fullest (which doesn’t mean to be successful in the sense of making a great career or something but to be successful in being completely authentic and having authentic experiences and relationships with others) and that you aim for a very delicate balance, very much like you do myself, but it manifest differently although the principles are the same. You seem to attempt to bring together things that are often seen as being mutually exclusive. But during my philosphy studies, I learn about the deconstruction of what is often perceived as opposites, so I don’t believe in binary logic anymore.

    You seem to throw yourself into the essential topics without security belt. Probably this is what the other person meant with “charming vulnerabily”, and I think that catches it very well. To me it seems that you want to be and remain open at all costs (literally) to whatever you encounter, but that also means that you are potentially destabilizable (is that a word?) – and it takes a lot of courage to face the threats that come with opting for such a way of living. Most people don’t have that, and I think that’s a strength growing from what appears to be vulnerability when you look at it at a superficial level.

    I wonder, what is it that makes you feel like breaking (apart)? What is this groundlessness you are grounded on? The way you write often seems a bit mysterious to me, but it inspires me to ponder, and this is something I very much appreciate.

    Please forgive me my lack of reading and commenting of lately. I’ve just seen that you commented on my last post, so you know what’s currently going on in my life. I’m very much aware of your loyalty as a reader of my blog, although I coulnd’t give it back lately, and in these times of interpersonal non-commitment (which I despise), I appreciate it even more.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s