“Be not afraid of growing slowly,
be afraid only of standing still.”
~ Chinese proverb
I’ve been telling myself lately, “Just this moment.” Be here now. Be still. Breathe in. Breathe out. There is so much you want. Things you cannot possibly have right this moment. But don’t go there. Be here, in this moment. Just this moment.
I was at work this morning and the minutes were ticking by (tomorrow at 5pm I won’t have to sit at this desk again until January 5th) and I thought, “I’m going to write in my journal.” And so I pulled out my little brown Moleskine and scrawled out the above quote, messily. It sat there on my desk, glaringly different than everything else here, as if it didn’t belong. I left it open. I Instagrammed it. I embraced it.
There are so many things I want to do and be and see right now. There is confusion with peace, unknowing with knowing. This chapter of my life is one of aching longing and dizzying self-inquiry, as I dig deeper and deeper into the essence of my being. The essence I haven’t quite accessed in 20, 23, 25 years, maybe. I have to believe I accessed it at some point, maybe as an innocent babe or young child. And I long to recover her.
Do you know the feeling of wanting something so badly it hurts? Feeling your heart literally ache in your chest? That is where I am. And I believe the aching is so strong right now because I’m so close. It’s like seeing mounds of delicious food and not being able to eat it right away and so your mouth waters and your tummy rumbles.
My mouth is watering and my tummy is rumbling. I can taste it.
Amidst the desires is that deep part of myself that keeps coming up for air, wanting to breathe and move around and see what’s going on now that it’s almost 2015. I’m feeling childlike again, in the best ways possible, while at the same time learning to mother myself. Child and mother at once. Baby and mama. I’ve given birth over these past few years, and now she needs care.
Memories from my childhood flash up to the surface again, memories I haven’t thought of in years, if ever. A friend and I have always joked about how neither of us remember much from college, foggy scenes and vague recollections, and that’s how much of my life feels, actually. It’s starting to come back, and with it the feelings around it that I had never been able to feel.
It’s time now.
I look to others for comfort and guidance and lesson, while still anchoring in to that deep essence of mine. I read blogs dating back ten years, to see how she grew and moved through and how she did it. I fill my social media feeds with things of beauty only. I keep a mental list of what it is that inspires me, what it is about her that makes me so happy to be in her presence, the type of being I’d like to foster.
And so I plod on, foot in front of foot, step after step, just this moment. I will taste it as my mouth waters and my tummy rumbles and I will smile. Because I’m growing, if slowly.