I know that this works because I am living proof, even when
these very scenarios unfolded.
How can I be concerned
for a loved one undergoing a medical crisis without getting sucked into an old
habit of anxiety-driven hyperactivity?
How can invite the
sadness that lingers in the threshold of my consciousness without becoming fearful
and dismissive?
How can I sit on the
edge of my seat with thrilling exuberance without losing the capacity to focus
on the task at hand?
How can I hold in
balance the tensions that arise – conflicting emotions, self and other,
excitement and concentration?
I honestly cannot describe how it works, I just know that it does: abiding in the moment.
I’ve learned that moving too quickly into “fix it” mode is
actually not all that useful in the midst of processes-evolving.
I’ve come to understand that the joys of my life and the
sorrows of my loved ones’ lives are not mutually exclusive.
I have grown into a practice of just sitting with whatever
is happening, releasing judgment of it over and over and over again.
I can, today, wait with the energy of unknowingness rather
than shoving it away with the red-hot branding iron of denial or premature
decisionmaking.
I also have an abiding faith in the cycles of day and night,
the unbelievable painted sky the other evening, the very sky that begged to be
savored and taken into my heart rather than captured in the four-sided frame of
my eager camera. The same one that glowed baby pink this morning. This same sky
blankets me as well as my loved ones at geographically-great distances. My family
all over this country, a host of friends on other continents: we all share this
sky, in different time zones and variably colored sunrises. It is the same sky
that contains us. It is the same sky that darkens to black at night, stars the
studded jewels that remind us we are but one very tiny speck in this vast
universe, and the vastness of other universes.
To abide is to remain (still, quiet, inactive, happy,
lonely, despairing), continue, stay, dwell, reside, tolerate, stand, endure,
sustain, withstand without yielding or submitting, to wait for or to await, to
accept.
Yes. This. Simply. Softly. Abiding. We know that all things pass
away, so why do we work so hard to push them away (feels too good or too awful)
without letting them ripen to their full-grown selves? The more we can let go
and abide, the more whole and honest-to-our-experience we become. The more we
will live in freedom and ease.
All blog images created &/or photographed by Jennifer J. Wilhoit unless otherwise noted. Please circulate images with photo credit: "©2014 JenniferJWilhoit/TEALarbor stories. AllRightsReserved."
