Falling apart, holding it all together. Then falling apart, then coming back together again. Cycles of clarity and confusion. Hopelessness and hope. Heartbreak and happiness. As the seasons of the natural world flow, so do the creative and destructive tides of love rise and fall as love makes its way into matter. Inside the paradox, within, at the center of the contrast of opposites, there is a relentlessly creative force, it is flow . . . it is moving . . . and there is no solid ground on which to orient. Death occurs in this place; swept up in the current, we know that things cannot and will not stay the same. Something is calling, reaching back to us in the present from a future that is marinating in the womb of Now. But what will emerge from the rapids, from the churn, from the depth and the flow, is not yet known. Rather than prematurely scrambling and splashing out of the depths, out of the death, into rebirth, stay in the river. It is unknown there, naked and fresh, and pregnant with essence. Perhaps you will see that this death does not need to be “healed” or “transformed,” for it is outrageous, wild, and utterly pure on its own. Enter into the break, the loss, the ending, and discover the raw and pulsing life that is found only here. If you remain too identified with “falling apart,” you lose contact with the inherent radiance; you may become mis-attuned to the tidal flow of embodied experience, the natural movement of expansion and contraction, as it is. When you resist the human tides, the fluid passing of human seasons, you risk disconnection from the clarity and brilliance of presence. Surrender to the movement of the waves, to the rhythm of the breath, and align with the wisdom of the earth, with the realization that nothing is wrong with you. Allow yourself to drop into the darkness, where, at the center, it is brighter than a thousand suns. When we remain too identified with “holding it all together,” we disconnect from the natural, spontaneous perception of the future becoming the now . . .the dark becoming light, as it's happening, as it appears. It is true that raw, tender heartbreak could approach at any time, requesting safe passage inside you. But it is through this broken aliveness that the poetry of your life will flow. Right in the middle of “falling apart” and “holding it together” is the secret place. Stay there. This is where, ironically, you will find the rest you are longing for, the remedy to the exhaustion of becoming. It is here where the light and the dark are in union, where integration and disintegration emerge as one in love, and where lunar and solar weave together the particles of the sacred world.
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