What a ride. This last period of my life has been the most difficult, and the most extraordinary of any time.
I find myself, as October blooms in 2012, at this place, only weeks into my 52 year, at the beginning of a new identity. And life.
For the first time in my life I know with certainty that I am loved. By my friends and family in the physical world, and my the unseen ancestors, angels, and various other members of the non physical world. To know this is quite extraordinary. To know that for half a century I did not trust the ground of my being, that I was loved. Phew….how many of you feel the same…either an unknowing or a knowing, of being loved? I find it quite remarkable that it has taken this long for me….
How did this happen? I guess the question it begs is how did it happen that I did not trust that I was loved? And then…how did I find my way out of that little illusion?
Needless to say….it has been an intense journey.
I have always had family who loved me. So it really gets down to acceptance and receiving. Allowing in. Because it has always been there. This I now know.
Crucial to this has been the acceptance and receiving of love from all of the unseen. From Universe, from the sun, from the cool breeze, from the strangers I meet. To really allow them all to bless me. And of course, the more I allow, the more that shows up….from the most surprising places.
Last week I was running my usual early Thursday morning run with the boys. This has been a habit of some 14 years. And the core group of us are the same. A couple of guys, and me. We run for a half hour at five, and then are joined by a few others who only want to run the last hour from 5.30 to 6.30. By the time the others join us, our conversation is in full flight. The banter, the male female digs…all part of the conversation…nothing untouched, no place off limits, and the language about as colourful as you could imagine. These guys have all, in the last few years, been through their own hell’s. They know this place so well. Anyone past the age of 30 does…
We arrived back at the starting place to collect the 5.30 runners, and our banter was in full swing. I said to one of the new runners, knowing full well they may be stepping into our conversation and hearing a very different context to what was going on…..”don’t worry…all of this is just code for love.”(the swearing, the jokes, the digs…truly it would have sounded quite nasty/amusing/shocking to so many people stepping into the conversation without any context)
We may not hang out together socially, we may not be best friends, but we are, in our own way, brothers. Our running is what saves us from falling into the abyss. And the support we have for each other is by showing up. By speaking in banter, by all the small nuances of our conversation. It is love. It has been forged over the last 14 years, one run at a time. It is one of the most precious gifts I have…
Each of us knows that on those days that the world seems the most dark, that to get up and run together is what keeps us from not getting up at all.
It is in the silence, the unspoken words…and probably the never to be spoken words… as well as in the colourful banter, that love resides. Few people would see it.
Where is love hiding from your plain sight?
And what do you do that supports you best on the days that life gets hard?