“Connect me to what I love,” an inner dialogue spoken silently as a prayer during my yoga practice and all day long. It is sometimes difficult to connect to what we love because we are afraid to reveal ourselves in this manner. To love is to be vulnerable and with our awful, daily awareness of that terrible, powerful knowledge of the tree of life, we simply just find it easier to armor ourselves against the emotion, just as Adam and Eve clothed themselves in God’s presence. We are embarrassed by our need for love, ashamed of the situation of vulnerability that it creates in us and so we desperately cling to whatever insulates or shields us against this reality.
Day after day of covering, shielding, insulating what is beautiful about us, the ability to love and be loved in a genuine, authentic manner, causes us to lose our connection with love. To attempt to love, we know all too well, is to risk and find rejection. We are tired of risking, tired of rejection. We have thrown our love about to those who would not invest in it, to those who abused it, to those who just did not care and we are done with all that. Carrying the lose armor around with me, hurt but still open, dragging around my heavy shield of pain. Suspicious of love, this is how I entered my yoga practice so many months ago.
So, I learned, slowly, that I have to tell my body that it is safe to re-connect with what I love, it is still there, after all, the body does not forget such genuine, authentic states, it preserves them. I have had to learn to trust what is there, to work through the unnecessary layers of hurt and the deposited resentment, and trust the force of love in me, the image of God – which is dignity or inherent worth. Peeling away the layers, each day, this mantra, “connect me to what I love” has opened a new world and the doorway is possibility.
How terribly quick we are closed off to new possibility by hurt, by the pain inflicted by others, the pain we have inflicted upon others and ourselves. However, if, in this pain, we begin to turn to that presence of God within us, realizing that this is a presence that does not desert us, that claims our genuine, authentic selves and renews us in this light as we turn toward it, we will find healing, we will find what we truly love, what we have always loved and been afraid to find, and begin to understand our journey.
Finding freedom in disappointment is an enormous part of this healing. Here is a poem I just wrote about disappointment and it is a new response to the same life:
Disappointment is not like fear
It is free from the spell of intention
Free from manipulation
it goes deeper
than ordinary human tricks
But even when God is questioned
A presence lingers
There is still so much more to be said
There is freedom in disappointment
Letting go of those unsettled souls
And their fragile schemes.
Finding, at last, your core belief.