Lately it's been difficult to access joy and inspiration. I've felt very stuck in trying to find it. Where do I look, how do I get these things back? What's the step by step process? The more I bang on the door the more these parts of me retreat. They are delicate. And not worldly. They don't adhere to schedules, to-lists, and standards of being. They just are, and they float in the ether.
I know a state of openness is necessary, so I ask myself, how do I become more open? As I shrink more into myself and slip further into survival mode.
It came to me today, as I felt the chokehold of anxiety compress me further and further as I tried to search for a solution: allow yourself to be surprised. And: delight.
I laughed because it seemed so silly and obvious, and it came to me in a way that caught me so off-guard. Like I was looking for an answer in a distant horizon and a bird flew into the back of my head. And there it was.
Happiness is such a loaded term, in dark times as I push myself to find a solution, to find air and lightness again it seems to slip further and further away. Joy can also feel inaccessible and unattainable. Delight can catch you off guard. It can slip in and out of life with ease. It feels accessible to me, because it requires a bit of curiosity. How can I look at this in a new way? How can I allow myself to be surprised?
So often I am seeking an earth-shattering breakthrough. A revelation that electrifies me back into life. But those feel inaccessible and unattainable too. Surprise can be something so small, it might only require a slight shift in attention and noticing. But it can lead to great shifts and ripple effects across time.
So, instead of vowing for searching for eternal truth and never-ending happiness, I vow to allow myself to be surprised. And to delight in it. And in these times of drought, I won't turn away from savoring these droplets, these glimpses of beauty and truth.
In this way, I am allowing myself to just be ever so slightly open, in a way that feels safe to me now. I open myself up to surprise, to allow clarity to swim past me in a flash, to not try to capture it and hold on.
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