My heart has been heavy, and my mind has been full trying to process COVID and social unrest and the election. Then fire season descended upon Napa far earlier than usual, and my mind went into a tailspin.
Those stunning photos you saw of this week’s Bay Area’s lightning storms have morphed into surreal images of raging fires devouring thousands of acres of land. One local headline blared, CA sees more than 300,000 acres burned, resources depleted.
I, too, am depleted.
Then, somewhat unexpectedly, my meditation teacher emailed me this poem:
Allow
There is no controlling life.
Try corralling a lightning bolt,
containing a tornado. Dam a
stream and it will create a new
channel. Resist, and the tide
will sweep you off your feet.
Allow, and grace will carry
you to higher ground. The only
safety lies in letting it all in –
the wild and the weak; fear,
fantasies, failures and success.
When loss rips off the doors of
the heart, or sadness veils your
vision with despair, practice
becomes simply bearing the truth.
In the choice to let go of your
known way of being, the whole
world is revealed to your new eyes.
I sat in silence after reading this poem. Tears stung my eyes. Then, I slowly reread the poem, stopping on this line:
Try corralling a lightning bolt, containing a tornado.
It’s a line that makes you want to laugh because it sounds so outrageous, yet it’s often how we approach life, especially in hard and uncertain times. We know it’s impossible to corral a lightning bolt, but we’d rather try than sit with our feelings and our racing mind.
Today I needed this reminder. When life feels like it’s falling apart, that’s the time to allow, bear the truth, and let go. Because I am ready to be carried to higher ground.