Endings as forces of transformation

Endings are bittersweet. They can feel painful, daunting; as the people/place/things that we are so accustomed to will be detached from our physical experience. Perhaps forever? As once the circumstances change, things are never quite the same. And there is an uncertainty to it. How will things turn out when I leave this relationship? What will remain if our connection is no longer being housed within these perimeters? Whether it is a marriage, a work situation, a partnership, or a social club. It is strange, as a soul living a human life, to fathom the circumstances of change in the physical, three-dimensional reality.

Yet in spirit, as soul, we are never separate. Separation is an illusion. We are always and forever connected, we are all One. 

Such interesting moments to ponder, to rest in the space between endings and beginning. As I slow down and really savor these moments, these deep feelings, I found something precious. The emotions that brought up during times of endings and beginnings are powerful. So powerful that oftentimes it felt overpowering, too much to feel, too much for our delicate system to hold.

Yet, as I get curious and breath into the moments of unknown. As I think, feel, and embody these changes in movement, I find preciousness. The relational context is transforming to a different form. And all we have to do is to love, trust, and let go. The problem is, and have always been, our attachment. Which, I guess is our work here as soul living as human to learn, and perfect. To be able to merge when we need to, and re-emerge when it is time. Again and again.

Truly, it’s all beautiful experiences. The former co-workers whom I worked closely with, more than 10 years ago, are now my really good friends. Though we don’t see each other often. The past lover, partner, and friends who no longer exist in my physical space on a regular basis might be orbiting in a different energetic space, dancing their own dances. Yet the impact of these relationships, the imprint on my heart through these soulful contacts remain – and they helped me grow into the being that I am today.  

And, in this empty space between endings and beginnings, I get to pause, reflect, and decide how I’d like to be, how I’d like to feel, and what I’d like to create in this physical reality. Endings are  really blessings in disguise.  

 

 

Hang in there – dear fuchsia.

There is a beauty in everything.

When I was a little kid, my dad would take me to the park and let me play, freely. While he chat with his brother or hang out on his own, under the tree. He seemed to have a rich inner world where he was content in engaging with his thoughts for hours. At times, I wondered if he was aware of me, tagging along on his path.

And there I was, exploring the world – the playground, joyfully, on my own. The mysterious little girl with a flute, the group of mean kids who dominated the ground, the random stranger who tried to be close and told me weird stories. This is the predicament about being able to roam around without a helicopter parent, there were tremendous pleasure in the random encounters and adventures, yet there were also these hidden danger in the lush green battle ground. 

Anyhow, that was my early life and I loved it. I loved being able to run around, explore freely, talk to anyone I wanted to, and played the swing as high as I could. As if I was flying, well, until I literally lost my hold of the handle, and flew across the ground. I hit my head on the concrete. My head was bleeding, hard. 

My little mind automatically rehearsed the worst scenario, in preparation of what’s to come- someone calling the ambulance, paramedics got here in lightning speed, being rushed into the emergency room. I guess I do tend to have a vivid, dramatic imagination. 

Nevertheless, my act of clumsiness finally caught my dad’s attention. And what happened next was far different than what I imagined. I was told to get up, and walked over to the pharmacy in the neighborhood, where the clerk was asked to disinfect and put a bandaid on my wound. And then, we went home, as if nothing major happened.

I guess from that point on, I got used to trekking the field of life, riding through the ups and downs, and sometimes – enduring the breaking and bleeding of my heart, quietly and gracefully. I continue to live, to perform the daily tasks, to complete my work calmly even when fire is blazing in the background. 

Now I realize how powerful a grip this was – the childhood experience. The external mirroring we received from the caretakers, sent a message wired deep into my psyche, influencing the way I treat myself and expect myself to be treated. Until the day comes, when I am finally ready to dig my hand into the clumps of psychic entanglements. Loosening the knots and study attentively and carefully, the wiring – extending and reshaping the twisted part.

And here I learnt, there is a beauty in every thing, in every experience. And there’s a softness to be found in strength and resilient. As if a yellow fuchsia, dancing with the angels, while hanging in the wind. 

 

 

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