On Practicing Allowing

It’s natural that we try to show only those parts of ourselves and our lives that are pleasing and have been received and well-regarded by others. It’s understandable that we want to be avoid vulnerability and prevent feeling ashamed and judged. That we have an inherent survival need to protect ourselves from abandonment and excommunication.

And, we often end up alienated from ourselves because of this drive to be (or at least appear) somehow finished. Like we’ve arrived somewhere.

I’m interested in the in-between. Where the mess and mystery live. The parts of ourselves and areas in our lives that are neither here nor there, that are in process, in flux, still in a state of becoming or unbecoming. It’s something that I struggle with, and what grew into my desire to instill a sense of care, ritual, and honoring of people who find themselves drowning in ambivalence, caught in internal conflict, wandering in long hallways that go on forever, lingering in doorways of life - neither in or out - waiting, longing for meaningful recognition of all that has happened and how we are changing, and what can never be the same again.

I think we are always, all of us, in process around something. We practice and grow in the context of our daily lives. And, we need time and sacred space to integrate our losses and our lessons.

Right now I’m practicing allowing.

Allowing the brilliant "I've got my shit together" lone wolf part of me relax back and accept (a tiny bit of) help and care.

Allowing myself to buy an ugly pair of sweat pants for surgery and wear them outside of the house. Probably. Maybe.

Allowing myself to be “good enough” - but not THE BEST - at something, and do it anyway, and not let the humiliation kill me.


Consider:

What are you practicing?
How are you in process?
What are you integrating?