Daily Archives: January 4, 2012

Wishcasting Wednesday

Today is Wishcasting Wednesday, hosted by Jamie Ridler, and the question for today is:

“What or whom do you wish to make peace with?”

picture from Jamie's post


It’s that simple.

I wish to make peace with myself.

I wish to stop smashing myself to bits. I wish to let go of who I think I am supposed to be and embrace who I am, love who I am.

This Wishcasting prompt was a happy accident. I thought I was going to have to write a whole other post related to the first two prompts of “A Year With Myself.” This program is a perfect fit for my year of retreat.

More about about A Year With Myself: “C. A. Kobu is the creative alchemist and project midwife” and she explains “Ditch those lame old New Year resolutions! They don’t work! Instead, go on a yearlong adventure along with other courageous women. This will be your best year ever! Go on thematic weekly quests of self-love and self-discovery. Be best friends with yourself. Hone your strengths and reshape your true mission. And gently empower yourself and your work by taking one tiny transformative step at a time.

See what I mean? A perfect fit for someone in the midst of a life-rehab and year of retreat.

My responses to the first two prompts are a further explanation of my wish: to make peace with myself.

Prompt #1: Liminal Spaces by Patti Digh

Q: What spaces are you standing between? Now, and then? Here, and there? Whole, and broken? A: I am standing between who I tried to be, who I thought I was, who other people wanted needed expected me to be–and who I really am.

Q: Now imagine those spaces as trapeze bars: what would it take to throw your heart over the bars and let your body follow, as one veteran trapeze performer has advised? A: I have thrown my heart over the bars, but as usual, my heart is way ahead, brave and ready, but too fast for my body, impulsive when my body needs more time, more practice. So, I’ll wait for my body. I’ll leap over and over, try again and again, until it learns what that feels like and what it needs to do, how to move, how far and how fast, when to hold on and when to let go. I’ll do all this knowing there’s a safety net below, and there is time.

Q: So what monkey bar are you moving from, and what monkey bar are you moving to, in 2012? A: Moving from careful, obedient, quiet, measured, victim, lazy, anxious, depressed, numb, confused, angry, hopeless, abused, desperate Jill, to kind, brave, silly, creative, curious, present, strong, open-hearted, balanced, wise Jill.

Q: What does the space in-between feel like, sound like, taste like? A: It feels like water, sacred space, love. It sounds like quiet, heartbeat, breath, waves. It tastes like fresh strawberries, freshly baked bread, grapefruit juice, mint.

Prompt #2: Why Not Begin Where You Are by Jen Louden

Q: What gifts do the parts of me I don’t like have to offer me? A: Acceptance, the opportunity to learn what I don’t yet know or understand, practice letting go.

Q: What gifts could the parts of me that I’m afraid of have to offer me? A: The chance to be brave, to stay with the shaky and raw energy, to wake up to things as they are.

Q: How could these aspects of me help me create more of what I desire? A: The more I practice not grasping or getting attached, and not rejecting or numbing out, the more present I am. The more I can stay with what is, the more alive I am. The more I can be with what is, the more myself and true I am, the more reality I can manifest.

For those of you, wishing like I am to make peace with yourself, take a look at A Year With Myself. I think it’s going to be just as amazing as we already are, full of opportunity and wisdom and love.

And for you, kind and gentle reader: may you also find peace, in whatever way would please and benefit you, and may you do so quickly and without obstacle.

Small Stone: Day Four

Small Stone: In Bed

Shoulder against shoulder, my cheek resting in the curve of your collarbone, my forehead against the side of your neck, your cheek tucked against the top of my head, skin and bone and breath, quiet and warm, comfortable and safe. Still.

Then you move, and I return to my side of the bed.