My Ocean

I find myself presently reeling with appreciation for a friendship, connection and understanding I’ve found in an incredible soul, who recently shared a sentiment very close to that of my own, from not too long ago. “I’m so far from where I want to be it’s like I’m trying to avoid my destiny. It’s like I’m begging the world for pain. It’s like I think pain is the only motivator for accomplishing some great feat that will make this life worth having been lived.” I have unfortunately been battling a painfully similar dilemma for some time, and am relieved to be faring on much higher ground than the depths I’ve come from. It is beautiful to see, relate, share and find comfort in understanding with someone I value and trust so deeply; to use the past to learn and grow; and to realize and actualize our power, influence and creation abilities for our future.

I kept fighting the waves– kicking and screaming even. I didn’t know what I wanted, or what to do if I did– but I wanted whatever that was, on my terms, my way, when and how I said. What did I think I was doing? Where was I going? I was pathetically comforted by the fact that I was going nowhere, because I was so clearly aimless and out of control. I felt so powerless against these huge waves that were repeatedly knocking me down. One day, feeling defeated and exhausted from my fight, I literally sat down on the beach, held my face in my hands, sobbing, and let go. I decided to go into the ocean and let it have its way with me, to feel and enjoy and play with its forces and awesomeness. Why did I ever even think I could overtake or compete with the ocean, in all of its fantastic enormity? What was I fighting? Every time I ran into it fearfully, tensing, flexing, gripping and fighting– failure was the repeated result against the unmatched strength of its massiveness. But this time, when I entered it openly, receptively, vulnerably, gracefully, humbly, fluidly, playfully, appreciatively and optimistically– I found it was not fighting me at all. I’m not fighting waves anymore. I’m learning and embracing how to fearlessly play in my ocean.

I’m finding that my intuition is very accurate. I’ve been having a stand-off between my intuition and my want and control of my world. I’ve been forcing and trying to control for most of my life. I’ve misinterpreted it for power and progress for a long time. This does not work, needless to say. I’m letting go of rigid, stubborn control and my misguided self-preservation, protection patterns. These functioning systems are based in my fears. My fears are a source of blocking my self from myself. Now, I’m cultivating equanimity and focusing on really listening, being open, intuiting. I am exceedingly good at this. Feeling is my forte. This feels more vulnerable, but is the only real way to dance with others and the universe. I feel new and foreign surrender, which I believe is good– meaning growth and better understanding of where and when to exert effort and where and when to let go. I see myself letting go of my rigid fight with the world; being more flexible. It’s even starting to feel less like defeat and more like acceptance of the universe; playing with it. Everything is not against me, after all. I don’t want to oppose it anymore. Feels strange, but strangely and hesitantly better.

My excitement over this looks like wild peace– Calm, dormant, infinite, energy potential.

“You’ve been walking in circles, searching.
Don’t drink by the water’s edge. Throw yourself in. Become the water.
Only then will your thirst end.”
-Jeanette Berson