Daily Notes, From the Editor
This morning has a softness, a peace to it that is hard-won and deeply rewarding. I am making space.
The curvy trail sign where I often walk reminds me that life and relationships are not linear journeys. There will always be turns, there will always be moments and phases when we--and our loved ones--question everything.
These can be dizzyingly terrifying. The practice, for me, is to not only remain calm but to also allow the questions themselves to become part of the beauty. It is way harder than it sounds.
I try to witness difficult emotions and (often truly crazy) thoughts when they come and patiently stay with my body's response to them without reacting, without saying things that will harm me or the people I love. It is hard work. But I have found it is possible to soothe our own sweet psyches--much in the way a loving parent would comfort and calm a small child. It requires patience, courage, forgiveness, a gentle voice, and time.
Our most intimate relationships are actually not security blankets, though we understandably try to make them so. If we are awake, we can come to see that the people we love most are more like mirrors or teachers, reflecting back and showing us what we need to see in order to grow. This is also where we learn to hold ourselves--not outside of relationship but in it.
He and I have been talking about sharing space. We have also been examining a lot of other things. At the same time. The former is filled with triggers. The latter is filled with even more triggers. Triggers galore! Triggers pull in a physiological reaction, a fight or flight response in the body that is not rational, and not easy to endure. What to do?
Yesterday was spent clearing out two entire closets, emptying one, and paring down my clothing by half in the other. It is revealing what can hang in a closet for years without being worn. Why? What are we trying to hold onto? A memory? An outdated future-dream? What might happen if we let it go? What else wants to come into that space?
Once the closets were cleared, I quietly invited the "highest good" to fill the space, whatever that may be.
Yesterday I also went for one morning forest run, one Jeep-filled Goodwill run, and one seemingly endless evening walk. The movement, the project, the clearing, all helped ground me.
So did the hot Epsom bath later in the evening by candlelight, set to the sound of the Gayatri Mantra. All of the space I created in my closets, my home, my heart, was punctuated by one huge unexpected sob in the tub. The bawl was over as soon as it was out, which surprised me so much that I actually tried to sob a few more times. Once had been enough. It was like a singular expression of the truth that could only be seen when enough space was cleared: That all is well and that I am still (always) learning to better hold myself.
A thoughtful text appeared, as if divinely timed, as soon as I exited the bath. It said what I had hoped to hear, directly and with sweetness. Perhaps the peace and ease I opened inside of myself had created some sort of cosmic vacuum for true connection to occur in its own right time? I will never know, but it did feel a bit like victory, invited rather than fought.
So this morning has a softness, a cultivated peace to it that is hard-won and deeply rewarding. Spring is nearly here, and I am making space.
Laura Lowery is the founder, editor and publisher of Lucia. She does her best to lead a creative life. Whether triumphant or stumbling, Laura shares daily notes (that are often weekly) here on luciajournal, including stories, behind-the-scenes happenings, little doses of inspiration, and large quantities of curiosity and heart. She is pleased to meet you.