I was tempted to call this post “Acceptance and Control” because of the theme I seem to be following with my posts of late. But this post is outside of that theme. This post is driven by a need in me to take a step back from the topic of control; to soften the message and create a space in this blog for the opposite of control: acceptance.
Control without acceptance is out of balance.
I have four posts waiting in the que to be finished, all of them on some aspect of control. To honour my own inner guidance, I had to write this post before I could finish any of those.
I speak about control because it is something I see lacking in many people’s lives. I witness people living on autopilot, simply reacting to life and not acknowledging the control they can exert in order to improve the quality of their lives. This is something I am constantly working on and experimenting with in my own life.
On the flip side of that, I also see people who are using control to try and resist or deny parts of themselves. People who are bottling up emotions and not honoring their expression. I see in myself a fear of expressing myself, and a fear of negative emotion, of feeling hurt or pain or loss.
We are not meant to be walking embodiments of inner peace.
We are meant to have our ups and downs. Life is a rollercoaster of experiences and emotions.
I mentioned in my post about meditation, that it’s alright to have thoughts come up while meditating, that meditation is a practise in coming back to center. In life things will come up, there will be distractions, and we will wobble away from center. The wobbling is important. It’s in the wobbling that we learn our greatest lessons. It is also in the wobble that we find the zest of life.
Despite, or rather, in coexistence with, my search for inner peace and clarity, I am also an intensely emotional person who feels deeply and is constantly striving for openness. My daily existence made poignant with little miracles and tragedies, dreamings, imaginings, and longings. I am learning to embrace this person, to not hold her back so much, though she sometimes scares me.
It is on the precipice of change that true growth happens. This is where we face our fears and grow beyond who we were. This doesn’t happen in the stillness of calm centeredness. It is in stillness that we process the change brought about by upheaval and chaos.
I feel Philip Simmons worded it best in his book, “Learning to Fall”, when he compared us to clay pots being thrown on a potter’s wheel:
“This is the rhythm of our lives. We need the pulling, the striving, we need to be shaped by life. We need to be de-formed so that we may return to form. For we are not angels but men and women of clay. All of us will be pulled off-center, we will be shaped by both disaster and delight. So we need to learn the art of returning home, returning to center, letting go of all that binds us too tightly to both fear and hope, letting go of our attachment to both doom and reward, letting go of all that leaves us wobbling. When we learn to return home, we will return bearing gifts.”
We go out into the world to lose ourselves. We go within to find ourselves. There is a time for both. When we return bearing gifts we go within to integrate them.
This is true balance.
The art of balance requires that we wobble. We wobble back and forth between outer experience and inner contemplation, between striving and acceptance, between yearning and allowing, chaos and stillness.
It is in learning how to deliberately focus ourselves back to center that we learn to wobble gracefully.
With Love and Gratitude,