Connection, a Tent & Radical Acceptance
Six months ago, when I first shared my story, I thought taking a Sacred Pause would have been enough. I untethered myself as completely as I knew how – quit my job, sold the dream house, moved cross-country from the state that still holds my heart, ended my marriage to my first and only (romantic) love.
I experienced freedom. And emptiness. *
I was so focused on untethering myself from all that I thought was holding me down & back from fully living, I failed to remember that one of the most enduring human needs is to be connected — to oneself, to community, to something greater than ourselves, to God. Connection, an innate sense of belonging, is what soothes our soul and reassures us we are safe and stable. It is what gives our life meaning, purpose, and context.
In yogic philosophy, groundedness is a foundational function of the root cakra, muladhara. When in balance, we feel stable, safe and secure. In brain science, it shows up in the triune model reptile brain’s focus on safety and survival through fight or flight responses. Grounding exercises are designed to tether us back to our bodies and the present moment; to remind us that we are alive and okay.
In the social sector, connection shows up as a focus on place-based and community-centered change strategies. To take root, the work of change must be tethered to the places, structures, systems, and communities that can hold it and embody it. Only then, from this place of grounding and pausing, does transformation become embodied. The caterpillar must move towards becoming a chrysalis. Only then can it emerge, embodied in the unfurled wings of a butterfly.
Change must be rooted to cross the threshold and flow. As humans, we need both the safety and stability stemming from connection and groundedness, and the spaciousness of freedom felt in untethering.
Often, moving towards or running to is full of hope (def: goals + pathways + agency) and possibility. Running away leaves one with longing, untended wounds, and an orientation to what is being left behind. I ran away…and haven’t totally let myself land in Atlanta or this new chapter of life.
I am still hovering. Depending on the angle, it may look like I have settled in. A good home in a safe community, kids in school and engaged in activities, a coaching & consulting practice, new certifications, yoga teacher training, proximate to family, carved-out space to take care of me. And yet … I am not grounded in this new place, identities, or ways of being. I haven’t allowed myself to grow roots here. It’s as if I have pitched a tent (intentional at first, to give myself time and space) at the intersection of what was and what may be. Instead of stepping outside to explore the vista and my new surroundings, I’m not only keeping the tent zipped tight, I’m hiding under the covers of grief, loss, and longing. **
The salve? Acceptance. Radical Acceptance. ***
Some of it is in reframing loneliness (passive, a sense of lack) with being on my own (active, with voice and agency). Some will be in slowing down – yes, even more than the sacred pause – to allow for and accept the rawness, the healing, the icky-sticky goo to be what it will be. In. It’s. Own. Time.
Radical acceptance is saying yes to unlearning -- the need to plan and know, to fix and control. It is believing. Yes, and…that is okay.
Ironically, I think it may be in letting go, the release, that some space will open up to make way for a different kind of energy to take root and nudge me to get out of the covers, peek my head out and get curious about the weather. Perhaps the freedom to step outside, revel in the RAIN, and feel the grass beneath my feet (or warm sand between my toes) will ground me enough to do the next right thing****. And, maybe, just maybe, I’ll feel safe enough to stop hovering and trust that I will land on my own two strong, resilient, sometimes-pedicured feet.
Your grief for what you’ve lost lifts a mirror up to where you are bravely working.
Expecting the worst, you look, and instead, here’s the joyful face you’ve been wanting to see.
Your hand opens and closes, and opens and closes. If it were always a fist or always stretched open, you would be paralyzed.
Your deepest presence is in every small contracting and expanding,
the two as beautifully balanced and coordinated as birdwings.
– Rumi
* Sidenote: Fascinating to consider how spaciousness can simultaneously show up as a joy and pain...
**This visual metaphor came to me through work with a transformational coach (thank you!). Honestly, if you haven’t tried coaching yet, just do it. It’s magical!
*** Radical Acceptance by Tara Brach is a life changer. Steeped in the wisdom of Buddhism, it’s full of loving, kindness, and grace. A must read.
****RAIN is an acronym that lays out a practice of radical compassion.
*****Thanks to Anna in Frozen 2 for the inspiration!
