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| Photo by Paul Morris on Unsplash |
The pattern blocks the view. If I look beyond the patterns
of behavior I learned as a child, things are so much clearer. Patterns of worry
and of acting as though I’m not worthy become bars on the window of my perception.
In the world behind bars, day is night and night is day if that’s the story I
want to tell.
I see the pattern, the bars blocking my view and they aren’t
real. At any moment I can become aware of them and not let them hold me in or
hold me back. But sometimes it feels so real, as though I’m actually cut off
from fresh air and light. Locked into a holding pattern with no way out, I
circle round and round inside a story that conjures up fear.
Like right now, I’m worried. Every time my husband goes
somewhere in the car, I’m back in the pattern of worry that began when my
mother was gone every night working. One night she got into an accident just a
few months after my father died. It’s when I began to expect the other shoe to
drop. And it’s dropped a few times with my husband which has strengthened the
pattern of worry.
The center of the pattern, my belief in something other than
good, cannot hold as I distance myself from the narrow view, turn toward the horizon,
and rise above the crumbled tower to see the larger pattern within a larger
pattern still, shadows cast by our stories. Beyond the shadow dance is the song
that vibrates our very being. When we close our eyes, we hear the truth and
move into its flow.
Knowing this I tend not to stay in the holding pattern as
long. I can feel peace now…if I choose to. Not quite there yet. I’m still
learning to trust, to feel peace even if he’s not home yet. To relax even in
the rubble is to know there is more to the story.
Today there are no ruins, just an old pattern to leave
behind. He’s home now. And it was always okay.
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