17 March 2012

Farewell, Not Goodbye

This will be my last post on Life On Purpose.

Sad, but the good kind…like when you’re sad to graduate, a chapter is closing and a new one is beginning…an old life is folded up and put away, the gifts and insights mastered…This feels like farewell, not goodbye.

June 2009, we launched our family into the blue of the unknown.  Excited for adventures to be had but weary of the challenges and where we would end up.  After more than year packed in bags and cars, we flipped a coin and ended up moving to a new home where we knew no one.  August 2010, we arrived in Park City, Utah.  Would we find our community here?  Would we fit in?  Would it be everything we imagined?

Yesterday I was thinking about sharing this book that I’m in (Pearls of Wisdom) with my new community of friends and a wave of emotion bowled me over in the parking lot.  At first I resisted. 

What is this?  Where is this coming from?

And then I remembered to honor emotions as messengers.  So I sat and listened to the crashing torrent from deep inside my heart. 

These are your angels.  They are here to embrace you and assure you that you chose the right path.  This is your family.    

You are safe.  You are home.  You are loved.

I felt like a child crumbling in her parents’ arms.  I could just let go now.  I no longer need to hold the worries and pains of life alone.  I don’t have to soldier on or figure everything out all by myself. 

I don’t even have to figure anything out.  I only need to be.  Here.  Now.

I thought about my recent visit to WeCare and my time with my friend and mentor, Scott.  So much work has been done.  So much healing.  I see myself as a co-creator and manifestor of everything around me and yet, I still find my heart aching for love…wanting to feel cherished…wrestling with the shadow of doubt.

Rather than seeking love, BE love.

So simple.  And yet, until that moment, unattainable.  Be love.  Yes.

I thought about the weekend I spent with Kristen Ulmer and Ski to Live at Alta.  We learned about big mind zen and how the human being is a corporation filled with all sorts of conscious and unconscious employees running our lives.  Part of becoming a fully aware and free being is to witness the delusions and honor the wisdoms of each of these integral parts of ourselves.

On the last day, last run, Kristen asked us to ski in the mindset of “terminal illness.”  We all groaned.  Really?  On our last run on this gorgeous day?  Yes.

We set off, instructed not to talk to each other and really give it our best go.  I paused and took a few photos, of course.  I will take photos until my last breath.  The mountains glowed in the dusky pastel light.  The air was sweeter than usual.  Every nerve fiber in my body reached out to the swaying firs, soaring wings, and slumbering peaks.  The intense, immeasurable beauty of nature seared in vivid relief.

In awe as I drifted along a cat track, I came upon an elderly man, stuck on a steep rim of a canyon.  Another Ski to Live member and I stopped to silently anchor him and pull him back up to the safety.  Afterwards, my friend and I looked at each and he said, “Now, that was a pretty great way to spend your last hours, dontcha think?”

Indeed.  I felt bigger.  More spacious.  And in that larger space, love grew and burst from the seams.  Helping others is really what life is about.  And there it was.  It didn’t matter that I was dying.  What mattered was helping someone.

But that wasn’t all I learned in the mind of terminal illness.

I continued past the ravine to the double black groomed runs.  As I skied I felt the wind blowing through me, holding me up while I pushed into her canvas.  I sensed our boundaries blurring as I became the wind.  In an instant I knew that like the air will never really die, neither will I.  I may change form, but the energy and knowledge of life that I carry is forever a part of the vast ocean of shared awareness. 

And then, BAM.  I shifted into a new place.  I sat on the threshold between this world and the next.

There was my dad.  He sat with this understanding on his own deathbed.  At age 39, he let go of his body and drifted back into the cosmos of life.  I sensed him with me there on the slope as I sat and cried for him. 

Then, I heard him say, “Let’s take a run together.  Our last run.” 

So I got up, wiped the teary blur from my eyes and headed down, guided towards the wild and untracked slopes.  I found powder.  I found big fluffy moguls.  I hesitated for a moment, the mind of Fear checking me for sanity.  I confidently gave her that run off and whispered to my dad on my shoulders, “This is for you.”

I floated down some of the steepest, fluffiest, most complicated terrain I had personally or voluntarily ever skied.  I reached the bottom breathing hard and thrilled for chance to reach across the non-physical divide and bring home the knowing that anything is possible for any one of us when we are driven by love.

Here we are, always on the precipice and yet never taking life’s offer to live fully.  To breath with the wind.  To push our limits of perception and understanding.  To sing the melody of surrender and discovery.  To pull back the veils of the mind and see our whole being as the miracle and presence of God, the divine, the creative tour de force in form.

I’m so incredibly grateful and blessed to be here now.

To finally be in a place where I feel I belong.  Is it the place or the people?  No.  It’s me.  I am the one who changed.  I am the one who has allowed love to dwell in me and heal the hurt places.  And in my own healing, I am aware of the amazing life, energy and people around me.  That’s always how it works.

I recognize this.  And how wrong it has been to hold myself in the mind set of unloved.  For it is fundamentally untrue.  Oh the lies we tell.  Mostly to ourselves.

And I cry tears of grief for the empty years wrapped in joy for the awareness I’ve found.  I cry for the years I spent resisting or holding back or too afraid to risk being hurt.  I cry for the confusion.  So much confusion.  I cry for finding my way back into the comforting arms of compassion and grace.  I cry for finding my new awareness on this amazing journey.  And I hug the ground and the people that I now call home, so grateful for each and every one of them.

I believe this is all possible because I have opened my own heart to the world.  I risked everything I knew to peel away the falsehoods, to dig into the muddy slush and find the richness buried deep inside.  As spring comes to many more hearts in this world, may we all discover the seeds of love within and nurture them with trust and faith. 

There is a powerful sun radiating life for each of us to blossom into our potential.   You can call that sun God, Allah, Buddah, the universe or the “son” or Christ.  It doesn’t matter what you call it.  Only that you open your heart and allow this energy to radiate and restore you.  We all come into this world with unique challenges, legacies, inheritances, beliefs, programming, etc…these are our teachers, our gifts.  In finding the gifts of our lives, we release ourselves from layers of grief and pain.  In healing ourselves, we heal the world.

However many hours you have left here, may you walk in love.


PS:  My new web home is www.lisalabon.com.  I will be sending all subscribers an invitation to join me there. The Life On Purpose blog will be turned into an e-book and available there some time later this year.

Peace and blessings to you all.

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