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Tightrope

05/17/2020 by Aruni

I do not love height.

For years, I felt compelled to push upward and onward on hikes, up mountains, terrifying myself on the ridges and edges of vistas.

Being counter-phobic, of course I would push.

I am a pusher.

The terror was so real, so unlike anything else I had experienced.

Body-centered-terror.

Physiological/biologic reactions.

Ponding heart and racing blood and severe almost-dizziness.

When hiking upward on trails,

I would

Weep with fear.

When I was blessed enough to visit Machu Pichu a thousand years ago,

I remember sheer terror surging through me, as I had to step over a ravine, to get to the other side of ridge.

That memory lives in my body.

Of course, my spouse was a hiker who feasted upon, adored, and physically craved vistas,

Just to up the ante of my emotional journey.

My insides shook with vistas.

Driving down from Mount Washington, I had to lay in the back seat with my sweatshirt wrapped around my entire head, inadequately shielding myself from my own terror.

It did not work.

Eventually I figured out I have a touch of acrophobia.

Homeopathy helped.

Eventually.

Then everything changed.

She got injured,

To my silent relief.

I got old.

Hikes changed.

Then

The big change—

We got pandemic-ized.

As an offshoot,

Yet another gift

Of this pandemic,

And I find myself

Balancing heights

Again,

New and alive

with

Current

Electricity.

Here is the flow

Of a typical

Aruni-Pandemic-Day:

~~~

I am doing fine.

I am showing up.

I am part of the solution.

I feel level.

All is well.

I am kind and present enough.

I talk to clients.

I write and breathe.

I can almost imagine relaxing,

Almost finding a sliver of trust.

And then—for no reason,

Something

Silently

Interrupts,

Like

A hush,

A whisper,

A murmur of self-centered fear,

A beneath-the-surface soundless voice

Beckons me

Hisses at me:

I need that.

What if I don’t get That?
That was promised to me…..
The fear

Instantly

Catapults me,

Rockets me

Into

Another dimension,

Physically alive with terror.

Not unlike Mt. Washington,

Not unlike hike after hike,

That intensity

Of physical terror

Paralyzes me.

~~~

These days

I find myself

Living

On

A

Tightrope,

Shakily

Balancing

Between

Okay

And

Not.

Between

Breath

And

Sheer

Breathlessness.

Between

A molecule

Of trust

And

An

Abyss

Of emptiness.

~~~

I am physically

Paralyzed

On the tightrope,

Again

Hovering over

The abyss.

Again.

Climbing

A mountain

Waiting

For the

Worst

Thing

To Happen.

Every day

Trying to

Hide

From,

Every day

Trying

To swallow

My

Own

Terror.

~~~

What do I know to be true?

The fear

Does not

Have to

Last

Long!

I am able

To return,

To keep coming back,

To breath,

To tree-buds,

To birdsong,

To sunshine,

To toes and fingers and breath and belly.

I am able to return.

Keep coming back.

We get it all:

Faith

And

Fear.

Hope

And

Impossibility.

Trust

And

The

Pit

Of

Nothingness.

Oh, my extremes

Deplete,

Oh,

So exhaust me.

Rumi says, “Meet it at the door, laughing.”

Pema says, “Befriend.”

I say,

In a 2:15 a.m. plea,

Whispering back

To the whisper,

Thank you for sharing.

You are right.

This is scary.

But please,

Not now.

Come back

When the sun is out

When the birds can sing

Louder

Then your whisper,

When the light of

Day

Can comfort me.

Please

Come

Back

Then.

~~~

Dear Friends,

Bill Wilson, the founder of Alcoholics Anonymous, wrote about practicing spiritual principles; “At first because we must, then because we ought to, and ultimately because we love the kind of life such practice brings.  Great suffering and great love are disciplinarians—we need no other.”

I am experiencing great love and great suffering.

I choose to return to love.

This video brings me love.  I adore these kids, this PS 22 Choir from Staten Island.  This is an oldie but a goodie, which I have listened to a trillion times.

Their voices give me strength.

Their eyes touch mine with bravery.

~~~

How can you practice returning back to love today?  What might that look like?  What will your practice look like?

Consider.

Be specific.

Bless yourself

With comfort,

As I bless you,

As we

Are

So

Blessed—

Aruni

~~~

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