The Summer of My Discontent, Part II
“The Flowers of Autumn”
And so, when was it that
the lovely, lonely extravagance of grief
took such hold that it no longer lives outside
but pours through all the channels
of my body’s highways?
The flowers of August,
Liriope, Four O’clocks,
Rose of Sharon,
are lingering, having heard my need
for reminders of Beauty.
Oh, but how could Beauty ever be
forgotten by this one who
breathes Her in, rests in Her,
Her scent and sachet?
God on High, God Below,
only You know the answer,
And You, dear One, are not talking.
18 August 2014
Every year around this coming of wintertime (my birthday time) I do a big piece of clearing/healing work. Apparently, my High Self, unbeknownst to little ol’ Amy, decided that the entire year of 2014 was to be included, probably as the way to bring about the embodied experience of my “word” for 2014: freedomplus. I can suddenly imagine all the other seasons texting High Self, pleading with Her, “let it be me this time. December gets it all the time.” Spring probably said something like, “I’m the showy month, it should be me” – and Summer retorting, “I have the heat and staying power. It should be me.” Autumn, of course, the more introverted of the bunch, sent a note on creamy, heavy stationery: “I’m happy to just take care of her when she falls; let the rest of them fight it out.” In the end, High Self chose, as always, just what She had planned all along.
Oh, how I have missed writing!
It may appear to readers of this blog that my life is an open book, yet I do exercise discernment in what I share about myself with the world. I’ve wondered whether to share all that I’m about to in such a public way. When I chose a dozen or so years ago to become a counselor and teacher I knew that one of the most significant things I could do for others would be to offer up my own experiences and growth-edges as examples of what is possible. In that spirit, I am able to impart a level of encouragement to others that comes less from intellect and more from living. Whatever wisdom dwells within me has been born from both navigating through the memories and fires of trauma experienced from an early age and the efforts I have made to say “Yes” to what comes. I’m far less successful than I wish to be with the “yes” and probably as successful as I can be at any given moment and within a given set of circumstances.
I could not have imagined in early March that the coming ten months (so far) would be as they have been: a time filled with silence, stillness, emptiness, isolation, and what I thought to be, at least for the first half of the period, an unprecedented idleness while feeling purposeless. Additionally, I was unable to work, so am now facing the necessity of rebuilding my counseling practice. When I use those words “silence and stillness,” know that I do not speak of the grand gifts of peaceful meditation (I’m not a meditator). I mean that the days and nights were primarily populated by myself alone, with Time’s great clock at my side, its little and big hands moving slowly through endless days and nights, with me moving from couch to bed, to chiropractor (thank goodness for her), to couch to bed . . . through August into September, when I began perceiving that things were turning in a slightly more “positive” direction.
The experience, while still not complete has been one of deep transition via the revisitation of thirty or so traumas, along with saying, “Yes, please and thank you” to the gift of EMDR therapy from a talented, loving and generous practitioner, while also making use of much needed gifts from equally talented, tuned-in friends, one of whom recently provided me with the message that the destabilization and physical unsteadiness that has walked tenaciously by my side throughout this year is about the dismantling of fear that’s been with me since birth. Because the fear has been in my foundation for so long, it’s not an easy process. It is, in fact, “very difficult on the body and Being.” My friend then reported that “the scaffolding is in place.”
I realized this morning that clearing this fear is one-half of two primary reasons for which I took life this time: to finally do just that – clear this age-old fear – and to then enable others to attend to their own fear in self-loving, honoring ways, and with a confidence that yes, it can be let go.
This not uncommon level of fear currently gripping the world is something we all feel, whether we understand it or not. In balance, though, there is a tremendous flooding of Earth with Love and Light, so vast as to be unequaled in human history. Ultimately, fear cannot withstand the power of Love and Light. It simply has to be released, and this is what most if not all of us are doing in ways that are uniquely our own. One person at a time opens his or her heart to themselves, thus permitting the extension of their love into the world around them.
As I have moved through this year with less grace than I would wish for, but with all that was available to me at any one time, I’ve longed to write, to read, to drive, to move through the world with ease and joy. Thinking that I’m now more within the energy that will permit my being more available to all of these pleasures/necessities, I decided it was time to test the waters still swirling around me by writing a follow-up to The Summer of my Discontent. Oh, I have missed writing. In addition to the poem that opens this essay, I have written little more than chronicles of days and nights.
In Chinese Medicine, Winter is the season of stillness, though you’d never know it by the frantic pace and all the “have-to”s of holidays. My wish is that you allow yourself the time to know the peace of your own Love and Light and that you willingly, lovingly, see that Love and Light in everyone you know and meet. Perhaps allow yourself to trust (another quality of the season, according to Chinese Medicine) that your own heart’s need for healing will be the greatest gift you can give to others. I promise you that this is true, for your healing whether you know it or not lifts not only you, but the world as well.
Wishing you peace and all good things.
© Amy Pierce and In Spiritual Wonder, 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Amy Pierce and In Spiritual Wonder with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.