I would like to publicly set a record straight.
I was completely wrong. In case anyone here might have been wondering; I process things in my own way and often times, that way causes me and those around me, much more anguish and grief than is necessary.
I know this now, after deep and virtually infinite pain, I have come home.
This article, was a reflection of a process: A long, complicated distortion that dishonored the truth. My reactionary, automatic ways of dealing with my pain, were running away with me. It was the best I knew how to cope at the time, with my perception of losing the greatest love I had yet experienced in my life. It was too painful to contain, and so I wrote.
I am grateful for this outlet, and for the many people who reached out to me, indicating that you too, were in pain. The single solitary reason I left that article up and available for readers, is the chance that anyone going through a similar sensation of grief, might see the commonality, the camaraderie, the unity of all of us.
I had the opportunity this weekend to experience the truest love I have ever known. I say true because for me, it is as pure and as complete as I know myself to be.
I was blessed to co-create an opportunity to engage in a type of ‘do-over’. I got to spend time with the man I had said goodbye to; and this time, I did things differently. This time, instead of listening to my reactionary self, I deliberately set out for more.
I simply kept asking myself who am I? What do I truly want? I genuinely asked the question without assuming the answer before listening. My truest responses were then able to show up, because I learned to listen. And all I heard over and over again was: Love.
Love is who I am, and love is what I want. There is nothing that I do not have, nothing lacking, nothing for want in the space of love. In fact, here, I have everything that I want.
Have you ever considered that what you are living right this moment, is a manifested effect of a cause you set into motion some time ago? Have you ever looked around at your world and accepted the totality of the miracles you create with your intentions?
I intended to fall in love, and I did. I intended to love my family, and I did. I intended to repair hurts I had caused, I intended to rebuild my relationships, I intended to be truly present in my day to day life with my husband and our daughter, and I did. I intended to open my heart and mind to any possibility of allowing love unlike anything I have yet experienced to remain in my life, and I did.
To do that, I had to let go of the notion that I knew what that would look like. Believing I knew how that love ought to show up, just kept me looking for what wasn’t already there.
How often do we ask for specifics in one moment of our life, when our emotions and thoughts have all of our attention, and then we reject what is given to us when it arises? It can distort our perception when our emotions have a hold of our bodies and minds and we make up ideas of what it all means. You see, once we have sent the desire out to the Universe, it responds. The ball has been set in motion, and as with any energetic expression in the Universe, once in motion it will remain in motion unless acted upon by another force.
There is power in your intention.
This is not an aggressive force, that you can use effectively to manipulate or make things go your way. The power I am speaking of is the force of love; of natural and perfect timing, it is the power that builds galaxies over eons of time, it is the power of eternal, never-ending patience. The power of Truth. The power of absolute certainty. This is the power within us. This is the power by which we exist.
Being within this state of deep trust, is experienced as peace and gratitude and love. I have begun to consciously attend to this state, rather than listening only to the thoughts that arise, and the resulting emotional roller coaster that invites me with every one of them. There is a steady stream here.
I used to believe it was someone else who brought the best out in me.
We always hear that phrase don’t we? “We bring out the best in each other.” And we collapse this expression with what love is. It’s a prolific and common misconception.
The best in us is available every moment of our lives. Wherever I am, so is my best. There is nobody I cannot bring that to. There is nobody else to rely on for it. And what I discovered by asking (and therefore relying on) another to bring out the best in me—it’s a losing game for them and for me! It was a proverbial treasure hunt I would invite them to embark on, and every once in while the determined ones found some nugget of gold (and wow did it shine!). But most of the time, they were left sorting through all the parts of me that were not my best.
Because nobody else can know where my best is found. Only I do.
And every time I choose to stand in a place where I freely, openly, and unabashedly bring my best to people: always there is love.
Being our best isn’t about being nice. It isn’t about saying all the right things. It isn’t about being 20 pounds lighter. Being our best isn’t about what we look like, or what we do with our time. It isn’t about being liked, or considered a good person. Being our best isn’t about negotiating how to get our needs met or about giving away our resources to somebody else.
When I speak of being our best, I mean to say our biggest, most expanded selves. Being the space wherein the entire, infinite spectrum of our Light shines.
Being our best is watching the sadness come, without turning from it, and watching it go again. Being our best is daring to be honest about what we see rising within the space we hold as ourselves. Being our best is communicating from, a level of spaciousness where we can witness another’s infinite space without pretending it is also our own.
Allowing another the unparalleled experience of being fully seen for all that they are and met with pure acceptance. This is love.
This is the love I discovered with this man.
And the most amazing news is? Because I know now, it is who I am, I get to share it with others too. It’s mine to give. And I celebrate any time someone else finds it for themselves too.
So perhaps this wraps up what there is to say right now. The longest goodbye was an attempt for my smaller splintered part, called my need for another, to run her best effort at being seen. I can say, we have seen you dear one, and welcome to light. Thank you for it all.
She taught me what it means to be present in the moment here, now.
And that every goodbye, even the longest ones, are always a new beginning.
Love elephant and want to go steady?
Editor: Jenna Penielle Lyons