hitting bottom

water lilliesit has been some time since i’ve written here and so perhaps much of this will make little sense because you have not necessarily been apprised of the details along the way, but i’m feeling the need to share and you came to my heart.

at last, i succumbed (or should i say, ‘listened’) to the exhaustion that i’ve been experiencing this fall and simply let go. it was as if i could hold on no longer, so utterly weary was i, as if my arms had been clinging to that rope by which i was trying to pull myself up and out far too long.  at last. my strength sapped, i simply, and all-at-once, released my grip.

at first there was great freedom and relief, though, of course, now there is questioning and grief…and even some shame.. but mostly today i am seeking to trust in the rightness of the letting go. (really, though i had little choice).

i have no idea where i will land, the landing is unseeable from here, and that can be scary. at times the letting go has felt like I was falling through a narrow, dark tunnel, as if in the letting go my world had suddenly become quite small…and not in a cozy, comforting way. those are the times when i fear that in letting go i have doomed, imprisoned myself.

you may remember the sense i had that something was trying to surface at this cronedom threshold time of my life. the metaphor that often came was that i was trying to pull my self up from the bottom of that lake in which i had been submerged for so many years. though i’d often found resonance with the beaver, who creates an environment of safety and nurture for herself in such a conscious flooding, i wondered about that soul contract i made with my young self to go back for her someday, that it would be ‘her turn’ after the mothering stage of my life was completed. oft times during this season of my life it felt like a flailing up there on the surface, a trying to break through the debris, or the ice, to find a place to break through and free.

at the beginning of this year, standing upon the thin threshold between winter and spring, i was greeted by a bulldozer. the lake was drained and exposed, the bulldozer’s blade dredging up 30 years of accumulated sediment.  and though i crafted some beautiful beads from what was dredged up- exposed- laid bare, and even allowed myself to swim naked in her sparkling waters when the dam was at last closed once again, it felt good in a way to let the waters flow back in, fill me up. and it will be good to settle to the bottom, become quiet and still once again.  yes, these words ring true as i have been uttering such things aloud…. i feel so depleted, i need to restore.

i have come to realize that i am made for deep waters, that it is exhausting for me to breathe up here.  perhaps that was what all of the flailing was about after all.  last week, i came upon an essay by thoreau about his beloved walden pond and its depths, in the sounding of which he discovered that ‘perhaps we need only to know how (her) shores trend and (her) adjacent country or circumstances, to infer (her) depth and concealed bottom. If (she) is surrounded by mountainous circumstances, an Achillean shore, whose peaks overshadow and are reflected in (her) bosom, they suggest a corresponding depth in (her)’

moreso, though, tonight i am recalling an experience i had during yoga class, near the beginning of this year’s journey. in a seated pose in which i was invited to ground my self to the earth, i clearly felt myself wide and rooted, at the bottom of the lake, a slender stem reaching upward, pulled by the light and by whatever it is that is the opposite of gravity when one floats on the water, perhaps the opposite of density?. far above me i glimpsed the underside of that particular blossom floating, floating, its tendrils attached firmly to my depths.

perhaps i confused that one, ephemeral blossom on the surface with me? i have wondered about the ego piece in all of this ‘one wild and precious life’ striving for true identity. was i trying to create an identity that felt worthy somehow? thinking that such a little piece of surface expression was the great ‘who i am’?

time to pull in, down, under. find my true source again. .

perhaps that is why the fall has not felt necessarily fast and furious, but as if in slow motion–dark and endless and unknown–  with no sense of what lies beneath, or of where i will land.

ah, hitting bottom redeemed. it is indeed time for winter.

Sweet Darkness
When your eyes are tired the world is tired also.

When your vision has gone no part of the world can find you. …

Time to go into the dark where the night has eyes to recognize its own.
There you can be sure you are not beyond love.
The dark will be your womb tonight.
The night will give you a horizon further than you can see.
You must learn one thing: the world was made to be free in.
Give up all the other worlds except the one to which you belong.
Sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet confinement of your aloneness to learn
anything or anyone that does not bring you alive is too small for you.
~ David Whyte ~ (House of Belonging)


3 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. skywarddive
    Dec 16, 2012 @ 08:13:51

    Dear sister-as you well know there are no answers in these sinking, shedding times. They are but the valleys of the rugged topogagraphy of awakening. I too have felt their depths and suffocation and the burning heat in my chest as the bottom seems to fall out of any rootedness I had once known. The bravery you express as an explorer of this wild inner terrain is a breathing example for us. The Mother is seeking us. We are finding her in lake bottoms and in the mystery of our bodies. And we are letting go of that being a special experience just for us-as the Mother calls us all. Thank you for hearing that call, Sister. And for going down to that unknown place where we are offering ourselves to be undone. And to be remade. More whole. Smelling of earth and fire. In Her image. Blessings on your journey.



    • emmaatlast
      Dec 16, 2012 @ 17:00:43

      Thank you for your richly affirming and honoring words. You know , I had the thought today in rereading this that perhaps my ‘arms were so weary’ because I’d been trying to yank something so firmly rooted!



  2. Tammy
    Dec 17, 2012 @ 14:39:29

    Peace to you. As a sibling sojourner on this journey as well, this past Saturday night I found myself engulfed in the belly of the whale sinking into the ocean with Jonah. Being reminded how when our ego avoids the Divine’s call to face our Ninevah’s and cry out in forgiveness, we live in such energy depleting bondage. I highly recommend immersing one’s self in the musical Jonah at Lancaster’s Sight and Sound Theatre as amazing sound healing balm. And again, the release of chains brings us back to love surfacing.



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