Contemplating The Crumbling
I am contemplating the crumbling that comes into every life, the kind of falling apart that softens all our edges, even the sharp forbidding angles we think will keep us safe. The kind of disintegration that has to happen if something new is to take root.
Sometimes it happens slowly, like erosion. We don’t notice until one day we find our house sliding down the muddy cliff and into the sea.
We name our contribution to the process, self-sabotage. But what if it’s the way the Sacred Wholeness within and around us softens our weathered crust to give us a glimpse of our tender and unadorned centre.
So we might remember why we are here.
Maybe we could be a little less adamant about holding it together, about deadlines and to-do lists, about doing our mantras and mudras and meditations. Maybe we could learn to trust the crumbling when it comes, allow ourselves to fall apart so we do not have to induce disintegration with self-neglect and ambivalent lovers.
I am contemplating the crumbling that comes into every life, the kind of falling apart that happens when the ice thaws and the rivers flow and new life emerges.
Oriah House (c) 2014
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