The Possibility of Abundance

Just this morning my father asked me to consider a possibility, the possibility that there is more than enough in every area of my life. That, as opposed to sitting, shoulders hunched forward, jealously protecting the little I have, that I could lift my head to see a riotous abundance of life all around me.

All this time, I thought I was sitting in the dark and dreary world of no husband, small amount of money being moved around fearfully from this to that, fearing the next unpredictable thing that might happen.

I love the power of choice. It is a frightful power, it unlocks the possibility of everything happening. The choice of stepping right into the heart of what we fear instead of hunching forward against it. That is, I think, what the coach at the seminar meant when she said surrendering to the event. Surrendering to life.

But I'm good at that, I'm good at surrender. What I loved playing with at the seminar was the possibility of saying no. No I won't surrender. Of doing it consciously and experimenting with value and consequence. It felt frightening to me. If I do not give myself, am I still of worth? Now I see how much more there is, how much more than the slice of pie I've been playing with.

This is all frightfully metaphorical, but I mean, going to work and embracing every interaction, of stepping into the tension, whatever tension comes up, and engaging it. Being present. Calling my mother in law back and being present in that conversation, hearing what she is saying to me and being authentic in return. How frightening is that? And yet, how full of freedom! How marvelous to pick up the call and then how equally marvelous to consciously end it, instead of waiting and letting it go on and on for fear of hurting her feelings.

Life doesn't always have to be so serious. Lots of things tap into my survival instinct. Naturally, because I was horribly abused as a child, so I read lots of things as meaning life or death. But why not play with life? Why not risk?

I feel like there was a marvelous, bright and beautiful play ground all around me and I've been huddling under the slide with my few scavenged treasures.

God damn, I'm going to play with the big boys now! I'm going to play in the light! Bring it on! I'll race! I'll scape my knee, I'll be misunderstood, I'll laugh until the snot comes up, I'll fall short and I'll get back up and try it again.

I screamed out, "You have no power over me any more! I am my own person!" But I wasn't just saying that to the man who abused me. I was saying it to everything that I gave power to. I take my power back, I take it all back. I draw the lines, I choose.

And with that power to choose, I choose the wild riot of life; I surrender to that compelling, depthless current.

I bought my plane ticket this morning, I'm going home for Christmas, my husband's gift to me. I just want to announce that I love my husband with a great wonderousity of love; and yes, I made that word up and it's an awesome word.