You are the best meteorologist gauging emotional weather systems before my mind can even make sense of them. But I don’t always treat you with kindness and respect.
At Yellowstone you tripped over a log and fell on your left hand side, bruising easily. You were excessively cold and couldn’t sleep comfortably in the cramped RV bed with little space to move or sit up comfortably without bumping your head. You couldn’t digest all the meals with ease. For most of the trip, you felt heavy and tense like the dead weight of a rotting tree trunk instead of light and joyous the way I expected you to be. Why couldn’t you just go with the flow the way Yellowstone’s chromatic hot springs, rivers, and waterfalls did? Could you really forget your True Nature so easily? What was wrong with you?
I realize now that my attitude towards you wasn’t helpful at all. Instead of infusing your being with the healing flow of self-compassion, I was adding fuel to the fire and fanning the flames of anxiety. But I can change that now. Now that everyone is back home settling into routines of work and school, I can listen to you. I know you weren’t causing these discomforts to hurt me on purpose. It was your tender cry for help. I’m so lucky to have you as my personal meteorologist. Emotions like anger, fear, sadness, and embarrassment aren’t the enemies, but signals to pause, listen, make space, and deepen compassionate attention.
There were some fleeting moments of sweet conversations between you and me. Looking up at the crescent moon and remembering our wholeness lost in shadows. Attempts at yoga and meditation some mornings and evenings. Massaging the left side of you with care and concern. Witnessing the flow of water and sensing the flow of benevolent intentions within me. Calling a friend and emailing a supportive group of amazing women.
The ocean of compassion is bottomless. I know this now. No matter how long I have studied or how much I think I know about mindfulness and compassion practices, there is always room for more experience, more awareness, more patience, more love. Thank you, dear body for supporting me faithfully, for letting me know exactly what you need with persistence, for being patient when I ignore you. When I forget, may the moon, bodies of water, my own breath, someone or something else always bring me back to you.
With Love and Gratitude,