“Life is brutal, and yet we are resilient.
Resilience doesn’t mean we bounce back effortlessly with a smile on our face from life’s losses.
It doesn’t mean we ever get over the grief of our lives.
But it is our human instinct to recover, to rise again, to blossom from the mud, to make medicine of what has broken us.”
Facing the endless horrors alive on our planet at this time—human trafficking, the devastating effects of global warming, political turmoil and wars of insanity, and now this global pandemic, it’s hard not to confess how much uncertainty we are facing as a species at this time.
Alongside this global house of horrors, many of us live with deep personal stress and insecurity—wondering how we are ever to manage our physical health, or make a sustainable living, or fully provide for our young and keep them safe.
How do we come to terms with the traumas of our past? How do we reckon with unbearable loss? How do we atone with the most grueling parts of our humanness —when anxiety, rage, exhaustion or loneliness push us beyond our capacity?
Collectively and individually, many of us are hungry and aching for fresh solutions. It’s undeniably clear that the world needs us all to wake up NOW; to each realize the deepest truth of love within us, and to somehow stretch to bring through our unique gifts—even with all that’s arising. Especially with all that’s arising.
We know we need to discover how to meet the challenging demands life in a good way; in a way that allows us to be fully available to each new moment. And yet often this very pressure to “awaken” and “show up” and “contribute value to our world” only intensifies our angst.
My approach includes direct self-inquiry and catalytic truth-telling, alongside wholehearted presence and compassionate mirroring to address the dynamic complexity of these common issues.
As we are encouraged to open to the very worst within ourselves and our world, we discover that even our most broken, fixated, and wounded aspects can bring us deeper home to life and to love.
As we awaken to the reality of how profoundly fleeting it all is, we are inspired to be present for our temporary lives.
As we recognize how it is that we exacerbate our own suffering, we learn to keep vigil at the flame of emotional sobriety.
And as we discover that life’s too short for anything other than the blazingly honest truth, we are relieved to laugh generously at ourselves. We understand the necessity of not taking any of it too personally.
It is a wild life, this human realm, and even for the most blessed and privileged amongst us, life asks so much of our hearts.
Life can be brutal, and yet we are resilient. Resilience doesn’t mean we bounce back effortlessly with a smile on our face from the death of a loved one or the failure of a marriage, from life-threatening disease, or loss of our bodily functions. It doesn’t mean we ever get over the grief of our lives.
In my experience, resiliency has more to do with realizing that we are LOVE, and that nothing is too much for love to bear.