1. I’m seeking a direct connection to divinity, that which is bigger than me but whose true name or form I do not know, whatever it is that lifts my face out of the dirt. It’s something about wanting to give up, to let go, to relax — to surrender my illusion of control, my resistance, my confusion —  but still needing a soft place to land, needing to believe love and kindness are real, solid, and available to me, IN me. I’m willing to risk keeping my heart open, but I need to know I’m going to be okay, even when I’m not. I need comfort.

2. I know who I am. I don’t know why I keep hiding it away, or trying so hard to convince others of it, why it matters if they understand or believe or support or agree to it. I’m not sure why I care so much that I might be making someone uncomfortable or confused.

3. Sometimes the world is too noisy, too fast, too much. I’m still trying to figure out how to be in it, how to show up, but not get run over. My sweet, sensitive, tender heart gets so overwhelmed. My physical body gets tired, is unwell. I want to show up and stay open, but it hurts and it’s so hard. I’m looking for the way I can stay open and present but still protect myself. I want to be here and I want to be well. I want to be all in, to be all the way true to the call of my brilliant heart, but I worry I’m not as strong as I need to be.

One wish: That somehow we are all able to surrender, to let go of the things that bind us, to stop resisting and relax into the way things are, and feel some sense of peace, a little ease, the tiniest shift in our suffering, and that we let love find us, let kindness touch us, take notice of the ways that we are being supported, lifted and lit up.

image by Eric

1. One of the best things about getting up early and having dogs that need a long walk is seeing the sun rise. This was the sky on Sunday morning. Eric and I kept stopping, standing in amazement and telling each other how lucky we were to see it. He had his phone in his pocket, so he took a picture, capturing how the light reflected off the surface of the river.

2. I’ve started making a more conscious effort to connect, to communicate directly with that which is bigger than me. It is called by so many names — Yaweh, Allah, God, the Universe, the Self, the Divine. In one of my favorite movies, Joe vs. The Volcano, Tom Hanks’ character addresses it simply as, “Dear God, whose true name I do not know.” I’ve decided for now to call it “Dear One,” and like to imagine it calling me the same. Even so, I have no idea what it is exactly, and am certain I will never really know, never fully understand it. And yet, I believe it has something to teach me about love, something I long to know, desperately want to learn.

3. The more I practice self-compassion, gratitude, and communion, the more I am able to not abandon myself. I can stay present with the hard stuff, keep my heart open, let go of blame, relax and rest. I can be patient and kind and gentle and loving. I can be who I am, be confident in the way Susan Piver describes it, “the willingness to be as ridiculous, luminous, intelligent, and kind as you really are, without embarrassment.”

One Wish: May we all find someone to help and to love, along with some kind of peace, a little ease, some rest, a bit of comfort, even as we continue to try so hard.