One gift of Freedom

Meadow of Life (Ben Heine)
Originally uploaded by Ben Heine
Be ground,
Be crumbled,
so wildflowers will come up
where you are.
You've been stoney
for too many years,
try something different ...
surrender.
~ Rumi

I have been working with the Kabbalistic practice of the MAGI process again this week in some very tender territory -- of which I am not yet ready to write about. After working through my statements today, I decided to listen to a Tara Brach podcast. It was the 1st in a 3 part series of the "Gifts to Freedom". Today's was on Forgiveness.

It was a talk that was timely beyond words and so fitting for where I am entering in the MAGI process. I could not stop crying the entire time I was listening. This is good. I can feel the opening of a gateway here.

The definition of Forgiveness that she offers here is not the typical one. It has nothing, truly, to do with having been harmed by another and forgiving their actions per se. She frames it from this place: it is letting go of our armouring, so we don't have to push anyone out of our hearts. It brings me back to the statement of my healer in my last session with her: "We defend, until we don't."
Tara points out that we cannot be free when our heart is armoured.

The piece that hit home for me from her talk was this:

"Unless there is mourning, there is no freedom."

There was a guided exercise at this point in which we were asked to think about situations in our life where we felt like a victim or wanted to blame and then posed this question to ourselves: "What would be here and what would I be feeling, if I dropped my story of blame?" The tears were pouring uncontrollably from my eyes at this point. I am aware that there is a layer of grief connected to a piece of work I did with a group of classmates from my Kabbalistic program last week that is here. It is centered around a very old message of "I am not worth it." I feel how this is still lingering, quietly woven into the fabric of my adult self and who I am in the world. There is fearfulness that is contained within this message in terms of my relationships and, below that, is deep grieving that has not yet been given its due for the little one who first felt the painful sting of those words inside her heart.

With my hand to my heart,
I say these words with as much tenderness as I can muster:
"Forgiven. Forgiven.
Help me let go of my armour
and open up to what is."

I want to feel the wildflowers growing all around me, from the inside-out. I want to bear feeling what is here, so I can truly be free.