Tapping into the pain. It isn’t hard; it is inevitable. Every sigh, every sorrow enters into the writer that I am. Opening up the sluice gates to an ocean of ecstasy, just beyond the letting go, just beyond the pain.
Somewhere angels await me, comfort me, hold me. And I always write what is in my heart. Inside of me are canyons, crevices, inlets, still pools. All waiting to reveal what is.
I have been working with the phrase, “It is a perfect world.” And it is. Just beyond the imperfections, perfection is guaranteed. I remember visiting a shell shop on the beach at La Jolla. There were steep steps leading down to a place where the ocean pooled among craggy rocks. It was a scary descent that winded me and coming up was just as hard. But the bottom and the top contain the middle. And the middle is where nothing seems to be happening.
I have been through so many middles, places along the awakening trail where tears kept falling, falling. The world went on as I simply endured one day at a time. But now I tap into the pain as a teaching device. As a way of revealing the jewel in the lotus. How can it shine until it has been burnished over a long period of commitment. You tell me. How can it be otherwise?