Resting in Myself

I often feel that my life is composed of epiphanies strung together at times with soft threads of wool, at other times with sensual lines of silk, and too often with very thin, sharp bands of steel that cut into me regardless of which way I turn. I have been engaged for several months now in the process of removing the steel bands, because they hurt others as well as me and keep me from fully opening my heart.

Mysterious life delivered a message to me today, through another amazing soul in my Biodanza class with Zora. During our pre-class sharing circle, she described an experience that allowed her to "rest in herself." Those three seemingly simple words opened up a deep longing in me. Can I really do that? asked a very young part of me. Can I really rest in myself?

How do I explain this longing to those of you who do not live outside yourselves? I'm certain there are at least a few of you out there. Ever since I was very small, I've been trained to live outside myself; whatever is going on emotionally with other people is my job to monitor. I do it quite automatically, rarely resting in myself. As I write this, I feel it's no wonder I have trouble sleeping. I often stay up until dawn, reveling in the silence of psychic airwaves. Nearly everyone in my part of the world is asleep by about 3 am, making the time afterward uniquely my own -- time when I can rest outside myself, since that's where I usually am.

Now back to this new and intriguing concept: resting in myself. I thought I could already do it, and perhaps -- from time to time -- I can. My longing is quite specific, however: to know what it's like to rest in myself most of the time. As an empathic and strongly sensitive being, I spend a great deal of my day exhausted. What would my days look and feel like if I could keep more of my vitality and life energy for myself? Even when -- perhaps especially when -- I interact with others?

I don't know yet exactly what it's like; how could I? This is a relatively new idea for me. For the nonce I'm paying attention to the tenderness blossoming inside me, and the still, small voice that says yes, it is possible to rest in yourself. As I believe, so may I receive.

Thank you for reading to the end, and may you always know how deeply you touch the world.