I just spent a month on Whidbey Island in Washington resting, reflecting and healing body, mind and soul. After months in Portland and Seattle, it was blissful to retreat to this sanctuary of evergreens, rocky beaches, artsy towns and an abundance of wildlife co-existing without fear with their human neighbors. It was common to take a walk through a neighborhood and encounter brown, white and black bunnies nibbling on the grass. The Whidbey Institute in Langley adopted an orphaned deer who is happily bonded with the surrogate human parents who feed him his daily serving of fresh fruit.
These creatures feel safe there and their innocent eyes invited me to do the same....to let down my guard, take off my masks and come out from behind my protective stance. Perhaps they saw the sadness in my eyes or sensed a reticence in my energy as I tiptoed past them. "It's okay," they seemed to whisper. "It's safe here."
Breathing in the crisp, cool oxygen-saturated air, I let myself drift away, loosening my grasp on my personal drama as I filled my ears with the sounds of the unseen frogs, studied the bald eagles in flight and laughed at the antics of the six llamas I saw on my daily walk. My recent missteps, failures, fears and feelings of despair seemed to ooze out through the bottoms of feet with each tentative step. The earth held me, shooing away the mental demons that had roosted in the rafters of my mind for the past several weeks.
I'd lost my way.
My hurting heart was weighing me down, swollen with disappointment at all that I couldn't fix or manage or control. Everywhere I looked for comfort or a solution seemed just out of reach. I kept trying to do more, be more, show up more, but to no avail. All that seemed possible was to let go...to just accept everything exactly as it was without expectations or judgment, even when it wasn't the way I wanted it.
Now with the faces of innocence before me, I decided that I had to enter into the heart of my own innocence again...that sacred place where there is no ego or attachment, but just lots of spaciousness to be myself... to let the Divine intervene.
Space....that's what was missing.
Nothing can enter a crowded mind. Miracles cannot heal. Gift cannot be received. Love cannot flow. Overdoing and especially over thinking leads us around in circles.
I needed to stop the madness. I needed the medicine that only nature can provide. Thankfully, my Higher Self knew this and conspired with life to bring me to this sanctuary in the Puget Sound. Once here, the surroundings worked their magic on my soul dropping me down into a much slower rhythm.
It's wondrous to simply allow life to lead, to trust the greater intelligence when life becomes too much to hold. Time to lighten the heart's load and breathe, forgiving the chaotic mind for its damage-inflicting ways.
For now, I'm saying yes to spaciousness, and the joy that comes when we allow life to carry us forward.