Gravity

I have a love-hate relationship with gravity. I love my feet being on terra firma, the feeling of being centered and grounded that comes from that. My body from the waist up has a different opinion of gravity all together. Especially since my mid-thirties. But I find it interesting that gravity is one of the few things we, as humans, tend to accept quietly. There are not protests (that I am aware of) against gravity. It simply is what it is.

Were it not for gravity, we would be floating aimlessly and missing one of pop's greatest songs. One simple natural law that impacts absolutely everything we do. I have come to believe there is spiritual gravity as well as physical gravity. We "fall" in love, "sink" into despair, become "grounded" in faith. And discovering this, I am seeing where I fight my spiritual gravity . . . the natural inclinations of my spirit. My goal is to bring into focus my abiding truths and be consciously aware of how they are manifesting (and that they are manifesting) in the way I live out my days. If I follow the truth of my spiritual gravity, I know I will find more evidence that love is the ultimate goal . . . my ultimate reality . . . and the most profound sense of gravity.

Landslide

Yesterday, I took the advice of a wise woman . . . I took my love, and I took it down. I climbed a mountain, and I turned around . . .

I have loved the Fleetwood Mac song "Landslide" since I first heard it as a teenager while shooting hoops in my backyard. I didn't understand the song at 15, but I was drawn to it. At 48, I finally understand the song, or at least how it fits into my life.

Having recently awakened to some beautiful, painful, revealing truths about myself, I went on a journey inward. Part of me was interested in the truth and finding spiritual growth. Part of me was hoping to find reason to doubt the fairness and benevolence of the Universe. And still another part of me was hoping to see that I am as lovable as others say I am. It has been the most honest, most real and most frightening look I have taken at myself.

I made lists. Lists of needs I have. Lists of roles I play. I became determined to set each one aside, evaluate how it shows up in relationships and whether it works for me or not. I took me and my lists to the lookout point on the Squaw Peak trail and began tossing my needs and roles to the ground. Some I threw with force, while others I set down gently, taking special care. I had to be open to leaving them all there, and that was a challenging space for me to get into. But I did.

After a few hours, fast and furious writing in notebooks, lots of tears and a few really good laughs, I stood there . . . open, vulnerable, tired, real. I looked out over the valley and I asked myself "who am I without these things?" And the answer welled up in my heart, so clear. I am love. I am tender. I am inquisitive. I am compassion. I am joyful. And my heart seemed to burst with love and gratitude so powerful that I swear I could feel it filling the entire valley that lay stretched out before me. That is my landslide.

I picked up the things that are my truth and walked away from those that are not. I am sure I will, out of habit or unconscious desire, reach for the old and familiar, but I have a grateful heart that will bring me back to my snow covered hill.

I did find truth and spiritual growth. I found every reason to know and feel the fairness and benevolence of the Universe. And, I discovered that it matters not that anyone or everyone in the world finds me lovable if I fail to do so. Oh Stevie, thank you!