Yesterday my heart cried.
I’ve cried many times before in my life, for various reasons.
Sometimes in sorrow, sometimes in joy, sometimes with compassion, sometimes in pure relief, and sometimes I’ve simply been overcome with incredible beauty.
I can usually feel where in my body the emotion is coming from, and it isn’t always the heart. Sometimes my stomach is crying, or my throat, or intestines, or uterus.
Much can be stored at the cellular level in our bodies, from past traumas in this lifetime and many others. It’s important to go with the flow during these purifying moments, and allow whatever wants to move, to move.
I was watching the movie Eat, Pray, Love, which I’ve see a few times already.
I was curled up on the couch savoring the time to relax and be entertained.
During the scene where Liz is up on the rooftop of the ashram in India with the guy from Texas…you know…the part where he tells her about his heartbreaking loss of his family from his drinking…and then he gets up to go, and tells her that she can’t leave the rooftop until she forgives herself….
Well, at that exact moment, a tidal wave…no…more like a tsunami…of grief, regret, loss…hell…I’m not even sure all of what it was…all I know is that it came up…and out…suddenly…like a force…from the depths of my heart…sounds I’d never before heard myself make…..heart sounds…came up and out with it.
This was my heart, blown open with a primal, aching grace that I’m certain is only allowed to happen in God’s good time.
To say that something finally succumbed to the purifying gift of self forgiveness is an understatement.
Was the “something” me? Did I decide on some level?
My ego could never have agreed to such surrender.
Or was it always out of my hands?
Was it always going to be a movement of the perfection of Divine Grace, as natural and automatic as our evolution into Oneness?
How many moments and experiences led up to the exact second where my heart felt safe enough to let go and let Love sweep through?
How many people and places whom I’ve loved, left, or lost, and who loved or left me, played a role in this liberation by leaving their signature of beauty written across my heart?
What about including the zillion times I’ve left, lost, and not loved myself?
And prior to this moment, was I only ever able to read their signatures, and my own, as ugly scars, rather than beautiful chapters in the book of my life, however brief or long?
How many lifetimes of memory are scribed into one’s soul?
Does it matter?
Once again, I’m down on my knees, humbled by the mystery of this thing called life, and all I can say is “thank you.”
There’s absolutely no way to figure it out.
We’re not meant to.
We are life being lived by something far greater than our little minds can ever fathom.
All we have to do is love and trust our hearts enough to be led by Spirit, even if that means being led to a still point of couch potato inertia, watching some movie we’ve seen before.
You never know what’s going to happen.
Living a life of soul…of surrender, means being led by the invisible.
We’re never going to get the guarantee ahead of time..
All we can do is trust….and Love..here and now, and then Love some more.