I am sitting in some sort of bleacher amidst a crowd of people. Someone, I think it’s my Grade 2 teacher, tells everyone to split into sides.
But first, we have to go clean up the staff room. There was a party and it’s a mess. Empty trays of cake. Beer bottles. Paper plates and cutlery all over. It’s the beer bottles that get me. We don’t allow alcohol on the premises. Why would there be beer bottles everywhere?
And then, as can only happen in a dream, I’m back at the bleachers sitting on the furthest left hand side of the group on the right. They’re the introverts. I want to be with them.
“But you like people,” someone says to me.
I do! I love people.
I love my alone time too. Being with people too much makes me grouchy, I tell them. I need to find time for me.
Again, as only can happen in a dream, one person is singled out. We are invited to decorate them with reams of ribbons and cloth the organizer gives us.
We begin. She looks rather pretty, I think, but one of our team keeps telling me I can’t put the ribbons around her head. But they look good there, I protest, but to no avail.
Stop it, they say.
The woman we’re wrapping in ribbon keeps moving to the edge of the ledge we’re standing on. She turns to face us. With her back to the void behind her, she steps away from us and closer to the edge.
Stop it, I call out. Stop it. Get away from the edge.
She laughs and steps closer and closer.
I can’t watch. I turn away from where she stands at the edge and close my eyes.
And I awaken.
The delicate balance of holding on/letting go and trusting in the all that is as what it is.
Surrender. The liminal space between the known and unknown. Seen and invisible. Heard and silent. Felt and perceived.
Lean out far enough from what I know and I encounter all I do not know, all that is unknown yet perceived, felt, wished for, dreamed of.
I do not fear the unknown. I fear stepping off the edge. I fear that moment of letting go, releasing where I am and trusting gravity, the universe, myself to hold me safe.
Like flying, it is not being in the air I fear. It is that moment of lifting off, of trusting the shiny silver bullet of metal encasing me to hold me safe as we let go of the earth and take off.
I do not fear the unknown. I fear gravity will let me down.
There is nothing to fear. There is nothing to turn away from.
There is only this moment, right now, where I am safe, exactly the way I am, when I let go of my belief, I am at risk of falling.
There is only this moment, right now, where I am complete, exactly the way I am, when I let go of my belief, I am not whole.
There is only this moment, right now, where I am love, loved and loving, exactly the way I am, when I let go of my belief, I am not worthy.
There is nothing to fear when I let go and surrender to the beauty, majesty and mystery of who I am in a world of wonder and awe.
There is nothing to fear when I surrender my resistance to trusting the Universe to turn up for me. The Universe cannot turn away. It cannot not turn up. It is and in its being it cannot be anything other than what it is. I can choose to see it as a fearful, distrustful and dark place, or I can choose to journey with my eyes and arms and heart wide open to embrace this world of beauty, majesty and mystery shimmering all around me.
All is possible when I leap fearlessly into my resistance of letting go and give in to Love.