I’m Shedding

I’m Shedding

www.livingfromthisdayforward.com

“Trust, faith, surrender…” (slowly in through the nose)

“Fear, hurt, hiding…” (long exhale, release)

I was stretched out in my bed in the moments between racing hamster mind and sleep’s envelopment. I don’t pray for ‘things’ or events, so when I feel myself gravitating toward that movement—even briefly considering it—it’s because I’m wrestling with something that feels too big. I reach into my bag of tricks (rituals, wisdom bits, and spirituality) searching my hand around blindly for one that feels right for the situation. I silence myself so that I may hear what is. Funny how the practices we have committed to, and the lessons we were granted that were so, so hard-earned, can feel just out of reach in a new season, as if to require you to learn and accept them all over again. And that’s really the point. There are layers to our seemingly fundamental truths and awakening.

There are so few universal swirlings that we are to touch and encounter in our human days, yet infinite ways of experiencing them. Familiar coping narratives (”One day at a time”) take one hundred different shades throughout one’s life. Yet they carry the same essence and ultimate recovery each time…

Recovering from a tough day at school… “One day at a time.”

Facing college finals… “One day at a time.”

Grieving a loved one… “One day at a time.”

Battling dependency… “One day at a time.”

Healing from betrayal… “One day at a time.”

Our shedding is our blind becoming. Our skin begins to feel tight and uncomfortable. We don’t belong in it, we’re certain. It’s itchy and we are unsure why until we begin to see fragments peeling away, revealing a new layer of our knowing, bringing us closer to our center; that place that has been unnecessarily cloaked and muffled, but remains untarnished and true and whole underneath.

It is there where we remember who we are. What we are here for. The ways in which we are intended to transmit love. Let the layers drop at your feet. Let them expose your fearful, naked nooks.

“Seed, root, bloom…” (slowly in through the nose)

“Death, shed, reveal…” (long exhale, release)

I write to process. I write to remember. I write for village. I write so that one-day my children may know where they’re from. If words move you, share them… 

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