Those who know me know that I can be quite spontaneous and enthusiastic. Personally, I don't think that's a bad trait at all, and other people don't seem to think so either. A few days ago, I ran into someone on the street from the folk dancing group I used to be a part of. She told me the classes just aren't the same anymore now that I’m gone. "Because you bring this fun, young, spontaneous vibe," she said. She then asked if I was even aware of that. I think I am, actually, I just don't think I realize how much of an impact it truly has on a group of people. I do have an inkling, though, because so many people over the past few years have told me they miss me in their group or gatherings, and that "there’s just something so spontaneous about you." Beautiful words, which I unfortunately don't always dare to fully take to heart.
One of my friends once told me that I am as pure as a child, and that she finds that the most beautiful thing about me. Of course, I could only take that as a compliment. After all, Jesus himself said that the kingdom of God belongs to those who are like a child. Well, then I'll just happily stay spontaneous and enthusiastic! Not like some kind of clown putting on a show, but from a place of genuine, childlike spontaneity. Not childish, but childlike. Pure and open. It’s who I want to be, and who I can only be through God's grace.
Well, all that being said... Today, I was my spontaneous self, genuine as a child, and honestly: I was suuuuuper ashamed. Truly, truly, truly.
I was in an online meeting with people I don't know, in a setting that is still pretty new to me. So, what I usually do is just feel things out first, see what kind of people are there, and mostly just listen and—hopefully—pick up on new things. That also seems like a very healthy approach to me: to first check out the situation and see if there is enough emotional safety. Just testing the waters first. But then suddenly something happened, something was said, which made me blurt something out suuuuuper spontaneously, and then I realized: "SHIT. What did I just do?!" Not because of what I said (because it really was very innocent!), but simply the fact that I said it. I didn't know how the others were judging me for it, and so I was furious with myself. Striking, considering I wrote in my previous blog post that I want to be more tolerant of myself and stop judging myself so harshly. Progress, not perfection, right? I was scared and ashamed, and honestly just wanted to run away from that meeting—and preferably neeeeever come back. Yet, I stayed. I stayed because, at that moment, it was the only right thing to do. Sometimes walking away from situations is very healthy and very right, but sometimes staying is the right thing. Well, today it was the latter. So I stayed. When we went into a group meditation right after, I didn't hear a single word of it. All I did was beat myself up the entire time. "You idiot, who does something like that? Just think for two seconds before you speak!" Still, I tried to focus on my breathing and the meditation, and suddenly, I heard the following being said:
'Let it come. Let it be. Let it go.'
"Let it come," okay. Feel everything, allow everything.
"Let it go," okay, I know that one too. "God, take this away from me, I give it to You."
But "let it BE"? Just letting it be there without trying to pray it away, or without losing myself in it? Just letting it be? Well, that hit me, and pretty hard too. Suddenly, I allowed myself to just let my shame and anxiety exist. And I knew: it’s okay. I was allowed to just let it be for a moment, without it posing any emotional or spiritual danger to me. It really was okay. And then, it was gone. Just like that, poof, gone!
This is truly new to me. Well, I should say: it’s new that this actually succeeds, that this works. I’ve tried it so many times in the past, but every time I "stayed with it," I would actually fall right "into" it. Down the rabbit hole, as they say. Every single time, I would lose myself in my shame, anxiety, or resentment, and in doing so, I lost touch with myself. But today, during that meditation, it actually worked. I could stay with it in all gentleness and love, and I genuinely was and felt safe. What was the difference compared to before? I think it’s the fact that I’ve been doing a lot of (guided) meditations over the last few days. That I’m much more in my body and a lot less in my head. And my body has—lo and behold—become a safe place. Because it’s where God resides. Because it’s where gentleness, healing, and love are. Not in the approval and validation of someone else, but within my deepest self (although I must admit there is still plenty of room for growth there!). Safety lives inside of me, and that really is quite something.
I notice that all that meditating over the past few days is truly helping me. Out of my head, into my body. The difference is night and day. I experience more peace and safety, and less drama in my mind. And in the end, for me, that’s what it’s all about!
