Nurturing the inner muse by reveling in the enchanting photography of Misty
Pittman: https://instagram.com/misty_pittman/.
***
Monday
late afternoon, the blues descend. The anger from the previous week that
lingered through the weekend fades and reveals a sinking disappointment and
heavy sadness. I prefer anger. The lividness fuels action; the sadness slows
and paralyzes. The temptation is to indulgently dwell in the sadness, but a
promise to be at a party pushes me to rise. I put on red lipstick, pop on an
adored glittery bracelet and take off into an evening cooled by the afternoon
rain.
Any
remaining heaviness dissipates once I arrive to the backyard affair and am
warmly greeted by friends. The gathering is of kindred spirits, sipping
margaritas and beers in a free-spirited garden. The back porch holds tables
overflowing with local deliciousness: hotdogs from a nearby farm, watermelon
slices, fresh salads and a platter of homemade oatmeal cookies.
The
conversations flow with ease around recent movie releases, podcasts, travels
and politics (for once, I’m joyfully with members from my own political tribe).
Beneath the melody of conversations is an indie playlist of Glass Animals,
Tycho and alt-J.
There
are toasts at the end of the evening, celebrating a departing friend as she
embarks on her journey to graduate school. Included in this circle of kindhearted
people, I feel an overflowing of joy and love. I let the goodness sink in. I
revel in it; this summer evening of friends, margaritas and uplifting
conversation is a balm to my heart and rejuvenates my soul.
From
this space of belonging, I am able to access my softness. I connect back to my
own kindness and feel such relief. My fear that I am losing my sweetness
dissolves as I welcome this joyful moment. From this softened perspective, I
see the past few weeks of difficulty and heartbreak are part of my growing, not
my hardening.
The
questions that always emerge during times of hardship return to me again: can
this wounding open my heart even more to life? Can the difficulty be seen as
invitation to expand and not shrink? Can I see people in all their glorious
imperfections from a place of understanding and compassion, and not bitterness
and judgment?
I intend
for the answer to be a wholehearted yes: a yes to embracing the challenges,
learning the lessons and remaining open to life; a yes to falling fiercely and
beautifully in love again; a yes to recognizing that people’s imperfections are
my own and we’re in this life journey together.
Recently,
this daily practice of staying soft and remaining open-hearted is a challenge.
The hurt seeps out into bitterness; the disappointment reshapes into sarcasm. I
fear that my genuine softness is lost to the rough tides of life, but then a
beautiful summer evening spent with friends grants access to the compassion
dwelling deep within the core of my being.
In all
my consuming anger and difficulty, I forgot the simple and magnificent power of
genuine laughter and pure-hearted fun. I remember that to stay soft I must take
great, gentle care of myself. I nurture my softness by surrounding myself with
uplifting people, by taking sacred, steady breaths beneath a night sky. I stay
soft by marveling at the universe and returning to the truth of my being, and
knowing that all is going to be just fine.
