Waking Up With You (A letter to my fellow coaches)
Hello gorgeous people,
A few thoughts as we wrap up our grand adventure…
At our kickoff in January, I fell into the most amazing bliss - the bliss of knowing bone-deep that the world of thought did not belong to me or anyone else on the planet, and that I was and always had been 100%, all the way down, perfectly well. The spaciousness and love that carried me was like Christmas morning over and over again. My tired and hurting body showed inklings of feeling like a kid again. I engaged with life and coaching from a fearlessness that astonished me. I was sure I’d finally conquered the human thing once and for all :)
It’s been a much wilder ride since March, with a lot more screaming on the roller coaster than floating in the river. Loads of physical pain. Loads of stormy thinking about my coaching, my hurting body, and the experience of my faith. Loads of honest existential questions hammering away in my head, seven pages of them during one sleepless night.
I fought with everything I had to get back in the river, back home, but I kept falling for the thought I had to have answers to find the quiet. And even though I knew on some level we can’t think our way back home, I kept listening to Michael and anyone else who seemed calmer than me in hopes of beating the system.
I haven’t fallen back into the bathtub of bliss, my body still hurts and I still have a thousand questions. But I am more fully awake to the IV-drip of home always flowing through me, even in the twists and turns. I trust life’s got me and is living me in a way I didn’t before and, to my surprise, I’m finding peace with the roller coaster and the river from a space that encompasses them both.
Somehow, even underneath the noise that’s still very present, I know everything is absolutely fine. I feel the relief of falling out of thought hundreds of times a day, without trying. I find myself engaging with people and ideas that open me up and settle me down. I'm falling in love with my boys all over again. I wake up with new thoughts like, “What if there isn’t actually anything wrong with being in pain?” I laugh each time my cat tries to kiss me when I'm in a flood of tears. I feel an easy connection with the most unexpected people, some I’ve known for years and others for 30 seconds. I spend an afternoon with my parents and my body feels calm and relaxed in their presence. I watch in awe as my first handful of clients wake up to thought, one by one, laying down lifetime loads of heaviness. I read and listen to all of your internal adventures, and I’m moved and enlightened by your light. And even amidst the angst I feel engaging with my faith, I have moments of profound peace in which I know, all the way down, that I am utterly safe bathing in the unknown. Oh how I’m falling in love with the unknown.
As I listened again to the morning of our first day together in January and reflected on Michael’s question, “Why are you here?,” the answer that came was so clear…to wake up; I came to wake up. It’s been pure pleasure waking up with all of you.