I have been afraid, lately. I am facing a very long layoff this winter and with the investment of time and money for school – it troubles my heart more than my mind. My intellect sees the risk and the reward and I am looking forward to navigating the future with excellence. I am excited to make the most of this gift, but the emotional weight of it is heavy. I have been exploring the option of leasing my house and moving away. It feels like losing my home. My safety and security. My comfort. A place where I belong. Home – it’s my home. And, ultimately, along with that home is all that hope I had for a family of my own. I feel like I am losing all of that. The feelings are not true, but they are real. I feel like a failure unable to care for that which is mine, which is also not true. This is a season and it will pass.
I spend a lot of time ordering my thoughts – over and again. I haven’t been so successful at being a well adjusted human being this week.
The other night, I decided to go for a walk. It wasn’t cold, yet, but the moon was sharp and bright. I left the farmhouse and walked down the driveway, past the pond. My restlessness was not a friend to me, but the fresh air and the stars were. On this particular moonlit walk, I watched as Guri scampered ahead to play. Her sleek form went stalking through the grass and bounding through the brush. She would resurface on the road some paces ahead and turn to look at me. Her tongue hung out of her mouth, panting for joy as she waited, quivering with delight, to see where I would go next.
“Are we still going this way, mom?” She seemed to ask.
When my feet continued forward, she took her cue and bounded into the grass and brush again.
I watched her watching me. I watched her awareness of me. She kept me in her sights, kept me in her senses. She was content to roam around me without bolting to some wild freedom. I am her anchor.
She is tied to me. Without leash.
Here, she can roam and run freely because she is safe. There is nothing to hurt her here on the happy land that is the farm where we have found our temporary rest. That brown dog was such a picture of what I wanted for my poor, pathetic heart. She doesn’t care where we go or if I happen to leave her for a time. She trusts me. She knows me. She knows I will come back. That I am doing what is best. If only my feelings could be so certain that I am going to be okay, that this is not failure…
Someday, I want my heart to realize that my spirit is its anchor. Not a house. Not a farm. Not an idea of a family someday that it so desperately hopes for. None of those things. In fact, I will let them all go for the path that takes me toward my purpose. I want my heart to keep me in her senses and awareness… to not be so afraid that it can’t do anything except fight against me with all its might.
Because we must go forward, little heart. Because this is the best option. Because it will all be okay in the end and maybe it won’t be what you expect… regardless, there’s nothing to fear. Nothing. Nobody will let you fall.