Yesterday evening found me sprawled out on my bed feeling not-normal.
Feeling bleh, meh, and eh.
It wasn’t horrible.
Which is intolerable to me at this point.
In the past, it was all I knew, this feeling of emptiness, quiet anxiety, lack.
Now, I acknowledge and allow, but it is not where I choose to stay.
I knew a run was calling out to me.
The pavement, the muscle ache, the need to move my body.
In the past, I would have gone back and forth, wondering what’s wrong with me, with this moment, whether I should go on the run or not. More time would be spent thinking and fearing. Time would pass and the calling would fade into the distance. And then I’d think perhaps I wasn’t supposed to run anyway.
Now, a calling is a calling.
The only answer is an answer.
The only answer is a decision.
Not understanding, not dissecting, not even “getting it”.
I got up, changed, and headed out.
I put on Abraham Hicks and listened for the first half of the run. I knew it wasn’t going to be a long run – it didn’t need to be.
It didn’t need to be anything.
It only required an answer from me – Yes.
I could feel my legs pushing through the heaviness, the stiffness, the reluctance.
I could feel my chest heavy, breathing in the good good air – it didn’t matter that my run took me along one of the busiest streets in Orange County.
I could feel the heaviness rising, my lungs breathing out whatever wanted to leave.
I could feel the change come over me, come through me.
I didn’t need to try or focus or pull myself out.
I simply needed to be there, to do what was second nature to me after all these years of finding solace and release on the pavement.
I simply breathed into the moment and it came alive for me.
Amazing what happens in the allowing, in the surrender.
No need to fight. In fact, I’ve found fighting perpetuates the fight.
In that place, what wanted to come through came through.
What wanted to be known became known.
It wasn’t necessarily a new thought or a new feeling.
It was a state of being.
It was and is peace and freedom, hope and courage.
There is really nothing more than that. Isn’t it?
If I could live in the completeness of peace and freedom, hope and courage, what could I lack?
What else could I possibly go out looking for?
Trying to understand?
Or, nothing, really.
There’s much to be said about moving in faith and allowing.
There’s much to be said about letting go of all the questions and inquiries and fears and worries.
Easier said than done, true.
But in time, it all comes through.
I’ve found whatever brings me to this place is sacred. And it is my honor, perhaps my duty to listen to the calling and follow and then, allow.