Deeply fearful of loving and of being loved and hugely afraid of being rejected and denied, I refused to take those necessary emotional risks that define all of our lives. Those high-stake gambles that might lead to lessons learned, experiences accrued, painful falls or my simply looking like the fool. Day after day and week after week, I chose to stay in. I refrained from moving forward into the great expanse of the unknown. As a result, I suffered greatly. Not even the convenience of technology could save me from my own self-imposed misery.
For years, I languished in this state. My own personal crisis did not hit until I, finally, allowed myself to feel. It was only when I tried to plunge head first into LOVE that this great well of repressed emotion cracked. A tidal wave that, for years, had been gaining momentum and mass was unleashed. It broke me open - tearing, pushing, pulling, clawing its way through the havoc of my weary soul. And yet, regardless of the tumult and turmoil that ensued, regardless of the food that I could not eat, the time that I could not enjoy, and the tears that copiously fell from my eyes, I was grateful. For I was, once again, feeling, sensing, experiencing and tasting what it means to be human and fully present to the messy dirtiness of process. Although the tunnel was certainly dark, I most definitely perceived a light at the end of it. For, finally, I had broken on through. It was only a matter of time before I reached that proverbial other side.
Now, this phase of my existence is but a distant memory. I no longer know that Cara. She is gone, receded to the far corners of my highest good. Nonetheless, I remain diligent. Like a cat prowling in the shadows, this beast of burden lurks awaiting for an opportunity to once again seize my fallible humanity. As recourse, I hone an ability to keep coming back to my own center, regardless of what life throws at me along the way. I must sow the seeds of a heart-centered practice that both feeds and sustains me, even in times of great desperation and fervent hunger. My very life depends on it.
Years ago, a classmate chastised me. "You are not trapped, Cara," Ros quipped. "This is the party." Pffff... I had no fucking clue what she was talking about. Certainly, she must have been the mad one. And, yet, here I am this Cara, a woman who now understands what Ros was getting at. For this time, now, this being human, is how and when we get to hold each other and taste each others sweet kisses. It is when we can embrace the glory of a sunrise and gaze upon the voluptuousness of the moon. It is when we smell the wafting aroma of a fresh baked apple pie and when we sense the coming joy of a baby's new arrival. This time, now, is when we FEEL. Yes, sometimes these feelings are deeply painful and cut through us like the sharpest of swords. Yes, sometimes we fall, get tripped up, are blatantly stopped and told "No." Sometimes, this being humans hurts - deeply, profoundly. And yet, without this bitterness, without the remorse and the loss, would we know the sweetness of joy and this ecstasy of Be-ing?
