Trust in the Goodness of Life

“Move outside the tangle of fear-thinking. Live in silence. Flow down and down in always widening rings of being.”

~Rumi

There are times when I feel a division between my head and my heart. Times when I must brush through tangles of fear until I find a stillness that endures across time. Where I must sit with the stirring of stories, woven from a past that was once not safe to feel.

 Again and again, I reach for what is rooted beyond the fear. I lie down on the earth and listen. I call to the quiet one who undresses the layers of uncertainty, doubt, and indecision until she remembers home.

 My heart is the entryway into this home. Here I discover a different kind of story: one of trust and tenderness, of safety and softness. Here all is welcome, even what quivers and quakes.

 Rumi says, “Move outside the tangle of fear-thinking. Live in silence. Flow down and down in always widening rings of being.” I hear this invitation and I ache to flow down into my being. To compost constricting thoughts and beliefs and widen like a river rushing free and wild in late spring.

 Years ago, I learned from a doctor that at the root of my symptoms was fear. The fatigue, the aching, the burning, the sleepless nights, the disordered eating were fueled by a heightened sense of danger. Alarms bells had been ignited in my brain, and I was being called forth to feel, to breathe deeply, to cultivate a home of safety and serenity within.

 Now, I can bless every swell of fear as a gateway into the silence Rumi speaks of, as a portal into ever-widening rings of being. My anxious thoughts and swirls of uncertainty are lampposts, illuminating where I am stuck, where I am not trusting, where I am holding on too tight.

 When I pause and notice these narratives, I am invited to open my palms. I am invited to discover the space where compassion springs forth from my very marrow, where trust is the truest medicine I am making.

 Over time, I’ve learned I don’t need to banish my fear. There may always be a part of me that trembles and quakes. There may be times when I feel the severance between head and heart more severely. And yet, no longer does fear need to be my North Star.

 Lately I’ve been pondering what would it be like to trust in the goodness of my life? In the act of asking, I feel my vision widen, my mind soften, my body rest in a landscape of potential and possibility.

 My intention today is to live this question into being. To let the goodness leak from my awestruck eyes. To celebrate what rings with abundance each day.

 So, dear one, I now ask you: What would it be like to trust in the goodness of your life? To no longer let fear be your North Star? To flow down and down in always widening rings of being?