Lately, I've been thinking very much about a brilliantly simple phrase, shared with me by my dear friend and Life Coach Rita Hyland. "Sometimes, Denise, you just have to sit with the mess." As someone who has always liked nice neat corners, tidy rooms and clean resolutions, when Rita first said this her words bounced off my belief system. it did not compute. Sit with the mess? No way. Figure it out, fix it, clean it and move on.
Luckily, Rita's words permeated and infiltrated my old beliefs. I've shifted, knowing that she's brilliantly correct. In the dark, messy spaces sit nuggets of insight and growth. My friends and I, all churning through different complex parts of our lives, have been chewing on this wisdom. It calms. It fits. It helps. It intuits wisdom to deal with the inevitable mess of life. It gave me permission to sit, get dirty and grow.
I sit, watching, wondering.
Perplexed by the intensity of force of
Dark, surging waters.
Shallow eddies crescendo to a delirious, towering walls of water.
Waves pummeling. Water penetrating.
At times, I sense a disembodiment,
watching from afar
But I know am the water; she sits within me.
Feeling each white-capped slice of wave
As an extension of my soul.
I dive in, into myself.
Into the uncertain mess.
I want to know what she knows. What I know.
I don't wish for calm,
placid waters and blue skies.
I don't force the return of tranquility.
I don't paint a sunny day on my salt-water
strewn, disheveled face.
I sit. With the
Decades old hurts, now expired.
Possibility creeps in, holding hands with the
faintest rays of the sun, breaking through charcoal clouds.
I sit with the mess. And the power within.
I stop silencing it, and myself. Voices released,
swelling majestically over the briny, gray squalls of the ocean,
flying away with the mist.