The Words You Don't Say

The words you say, the words you cannot say. How hard it is for me to express what i am feeling to others, especially if there is any anger, hurt, discomfort, worry, embarrassment, unmet need, desire. It's easy to love myself, to be myself, when i feel radiant, alive, open, joyous, loving, but can i make space for the feelings when i feel small, vulnerable, lonely, depressed, scared, angry, hurt, tired? It's hard. Can i make it easy, effortless? Can i give that, learn that, so that i can help others to give themselves that?

I want to shut it out, deny it, reject it, hate it, but that hasn't worked so well, doesn't allow for the fullness of being. Can i practice making a large, inclusive space around this in myself? Can i practice a new way of being? Can i make this a dance too, part of the dance of my life? Can i let these difficult emotions dance in me, express, find a more inclusive home? And through this to become more accepting, tolerant, of others.

The wind moves the trees outside. A storm is coming. The sky is a white-grey with streaks of blue-grey. Most of the leaves left on the oaks are more brown than yellow, and they drift down in the wind. The wind makes a shushing sound, like a long exhaled "ha," and the leaves rustle in response.

If absolutely nothing is wrong, if everything is ok just as it is, what then? How might i live differently from this awareness? What does it mean to open my heart to love in this moment as i sit, watching the gathering winds outside and the fire in the woodstove inside, feeling my shifting feelings, seeing the thoughts as fleeting as leaves on the wind and less substantial?

Opening my heart to love seems to be about not rejecting this: this that i am feeling, this that i am, this milky grey light filtering in the windows, the blustery cold day, even the things in my life i have to do and don't want to do. Is there a way to include them and my feelings about them? I think of Marshall Rosenberg talking about never doing anything that you can't do with the joy of a child feeding a hungry duckling. I love that vision of life, and i crave it, and i do not know how to get from here to there. But it feels like life itself depends on it. But then the voices battle: Is that really possible? Is that realistic? Aren't there all sorts of things you do out of necessity and not love, or can they truly all be done from love and joy and the deepest presence or else given up? This feels like the most urgent and important question.