I’ve been gingerly placing some fresh boundaries around spaces for my writing and art….saying some new “no”s……giving less time to situations that sap my energy.
The pain of un-meeting expectations leaves my soul burning like a forest on fire. No, like the whole of California and surrounding dessert ablaze. White, hot unrest, like ash from well-burning coals, is toasting some soft spots in my comfort zones until I feel singed and charred. The blaze gobbles up old, familiar air.
What’s worse, I know I can put out this fire if I suit up, grab myself by the appearances and begin spraying the fireline with fresh apologies, obligatory phone calls and re-scheduled visits.
I could arrest these flames~could control this~with some approval-seeking gifts and explanations. But unruly winds intent on my freedom keep raging…jumping the firebreaks my inadequate sacrifices have carved.
I’m a people pleaser in an awfully awkward position: I want to stop. To let the fires inside me rage and tear through the structures I’ve built and maintain at great cost to my heart’s true music. I’ve already lost too many precious minutes dancing to the tune of other people’s expectations~some real, others only imagined. I’m in a death-roll with my own unrealistic expectations, as well.
I want to lose them ALL~to lose the yoga-in-tight-jeans constriction that siphons off the joy of moving and breathing to the unforced rhythms of grace. I’m longing to really love, instead… wholeheartedly and fearlessly. From a place of rest and realness. Not enslaved, resigned, and far too polite.
Pine cones drop their seeds because of the heat of fires that destroy other trees, consuming the deadwood and underbrush. Am I brave enough to let this uncomfortable blaze burn unchecked, trusting that new life will push through the charred ground and become the song my heart longs for?
Going down~ knees to the ground~ I say yes to the fire and flame~.and yes to what will remain
after the burning’s done.