Flowing Through Dissolution
The practice of presence is most necessary in times of transition. So often, we want to jump ahead to what’s next or maybe get stuck in the grief of letting go, but once that lever tips, transformation unfolds for you like a red carpet.
Getting to that tipping point has been the most difficult for me. We create stories and excuses as to why the necessary change is still in our control and right for the course. This leading up to the transition of power is where our ego resistance is strongest.
This is a great time for faith. How do we move away from a comfort we’ve felt grounded in for so long without trusting that we will still be held? Can we stand rooted in the idea that there’s a power greater than us helping us through the unknown? Why do we fear change so much that we’d rather dig our heels in than surrender?
Freedom is one of my core values, and whenever I think of surrender, I want to throw my hands back as if I could fly, open my heart wide to the sky, completely uninhibited, pouring love straight from my chest. But my life tells me diving open-hearted doesn’t come without consequence.
I’ve been hurt living this way; we all have. And we could turn inward and do whatever we can to prevent the pain and suffering that caused some of the deepest wounds to our delicate beings. Or we can choose to fly.
We’re only given this opportunity this time, and I’m grateful I lived through my yolo years — they weren’t calculated in any way, which is youth's beautiful, blind confidence. Truly a gift to behold in the time we’re given it. While responsibility has moved in more recently, that spontaneity will always be a part of my being.
Over the years, I’ve built a practice around building resiliency to suffering. I’ve recently gone through the process of dissolution over and over. Each time allowed for a different aspect of me to be dissolved. In building resilience, like any successful athlete, restoration and time away from ‘the work’ have been as critical as conditioning.
I’ve also grown in faith and trust during this time, allowing me to stay more present. I recognize how much of this transition process ends in the finished piece.
I spoke about this with a musician on a sojourn retreat at the Abbey of Gethsemani. That the end piece of an album, a piece of art, a blog, is a completion of the journey it took to create it. Just as a butterfly starts as a very hungry caterpillar, what we put in significantly contributes to what we get out.
This is my view on transitions as well. I’ve dedicated myself to practicing presence for the sake of peace. This will continue to be a practice, but now I see a gift of this presence during difficult times. Living fully means being in pain, sorrow, and suffering just as much as joy, laughter, and love.
I say this with an understanding of the conditioning process. It could be detrimental to run a marathon without training. The healing process is a lifelong journey; everything is better digested with small bites and lots of chewing. I started with 2-minutes of daily meditation in 2013 and hit a few healing marathons over the past ten years along that route.
If I can be present with my grief, I will be gifted with paradox and better understand completion. If I can be present through the discomfort of change, my fear, then I’m more open to flow, allowing energy to shift and step assuredly into facing my fears.
Through this gift of presence, I am open to receiving more gifts. A message through tarot recently told me to find magic in everything. I mean, the guaranteed way to not catch it is not to look. The likely side-effect is that you’ll just surround yourself with more beauty.
As the world is in a great state of transition, we can all do our part to ensure what is on the other side is something we want to create by practicing presence. When the going gets tough, remember to take an intentional breath, say a prayer for grace, and allow yourself to be washed in the presence of something greater than you.
