Peace. Poise. Power.
I woke up at 3 a.m. feeling the grief that I knew was bound to return. There have been whispers of it over the past few days. No surprise because I had a reprieve for nearly 3 weeks. Oh, and I’m smack dab in the middle of PMS. That one always gets me. I laid there for 90 minutes. Who in their right mind lays there that long thinking maybe I’ll fall back asleep? I finally got up and wrote for a while. That settled my mind and I slept a bit longer.
When I woke again, the grief was still present. I immediately started spinning into all the ways that I could make it go away. I could make myself busy all day. I could make plans with friends and drink too much. I could do, do, do. But I don’t want to run from it. Really.
I want to BE.
What I know is that the deepest healing, the greatest transformation, comes from this raw, real place. If I embrace it and let it wash through me, I will come away clean.
So instead, I sat in bed longer than normal, journal and pen in hand. I texted with a friend and shared my grief. I talked to my sister and my aunt. I went to the gym to take a weight lifting class and discovered that I was an hour late. Another opportunity to practice grace with myself.
And then, I came home. I listened to the kind guidance of my friend. He suggested tree pose with my arms lifted high, my heart wide open and my face lifted to the sky. An act of Peace. Of Poise. Of Power. I listened to David Lanz play Cristofori’s Dream.
I rose up. I fell. I surrendered. I found myself sobbing in child’s pose. I allowed the wave to move through me. And then it was finished. I didn’t run from it. I felt it. I remembered peace.