My Dirty Little Secret

I woke this morning, in my bed, to a room filled with sunlight. I looked around at all the things that are familiar and loved. My eyes lingered on one of my large, favorite, pieces of art. I felt the pillow cradling my head. I noted how soft the sheets felt against my skin. I've looked at this room most every morning for almost five years now. I designed the room. I furnished it. I made all the choices that created it. It's a happy room, a nurturing room.

And not for the first time, I've felt as though it belongs to someone else, like I'm an over-night guest waking there. And once again, my dirty little secret whispered in my ear. I laid there safe, in a beautiful environment thinking, "This is not my life..." Once again, the following thought is, "Holy god, Holly, you are so friggin' ungrateful!"

Have you ever felt like that? Like the life you are living is not yours and that you've been waiting for ages for your real life to start? Like you're waiting for some spark of awareness and understanding that will put you on the path to what it is you're destined to have, do, be?

Not that you have delusions of grandeur and think your current life is beneath you. Not that who you are now, where you live, what you do isn't good or worthy...it's just not your life. Like dashing out of a room having mistakenly grabbed the wrong coat. It looked just like yours. It fits, but it's not yours.

I admit, that when I have this feeling again, I feel like a fraud, a sham. So many think I'm wise and insightful about life issues and spiritual matters; perhaps I am. But, when this one pops up...it makes me uncomfortable. Maybe no one should ever listen to me again...because honestly? What do I know if I don't know enough to live authentically?

I can only tell you that I've felt off and on like this for years. At certain times for most of my life. Like I'm waiting for something to start. But, it wasn't until after Doog left and I began my 11 year sojourn of living on my own, that I became completely aware that I feel this way at times. Many nights I'd lie in the dark and think as I drifted toward sleep, "Well, you just went through another day waiting for your life to begin...maybe tomorrow..."

The feeling of living someone else's life and not mine is so very acute at times. And, while I can now accurately name the condition, the cure remains elusive. The answer to what would make that go away and evaporate is still unanswered. What would it take for me to walk each day in my life? What would it take for me to joyously scream, "Yes! This is my life! I'm not walking around in someone else's shoes, this is mine! It's grand! I am so in love with my life!!!"

What is it that I'm waiting for? Would I even know it if I saw it? I sat at the computer this morning, to read these words waiting for me- "Perhaps wisdom lies not in the constant struggle to bring the sacred into daily life but in the recognition that, we are always on sacred ground."

They were penned by this woman...Rachel Naomi Remen. She's a medical doctor. No, strike that; she's grander than that. She has spent her life learning to be a Healer of Humans. I had the privilege of meeting and spending time with her about 10 years ago. She was the guest speaker at the inauguration of our conference center that we built at Franklin Square Hospital Center in Baltimore.

At that time, Dr. Remen, or Rachel as she insisted on being called, had recently written a wonderful book, Kitchen Table Wisdom. If you're not familiar with it, I'd highly recommend that you give it a read. My autographed edition is one of my prized books. One that I wouldn't let go of, but I'd be happy to lend to you.

So in the midst of trying to bury my dirty little secret, stuff it back down yet again, hearing Rachel's words doesn't remove it, but I feel as though a friend reached out to gently remind me that I'm looking wrongly at things. To lovingly suggest that maybe I need to change my focus about what I'm expecting, feeling, doing, not doing, worrying so much about...

Maybe a friend dropped into my life today to remind me that this life I'm creating is my design and that I only feel like it isn't mine when I lose my focus. A friend who reminds me that I am safely standing on sacred ground. Suggesting that I wisely accept the miracle of its ordinariness. Reminding me that I'm not a spectator, but the creator of my life. I'm living not just watching.

And, perhaps saying my secret out loud like I just did...

...can open the door and let in some light; set me free to move forward and reconnect with myself and this sacred life of mine. Again. Let in the light that evaporates doubt...no more dirty little secret for me. Well, at least for today.

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly
All images courtesy of the Internet...except the last one which I took at one of the Missions de San Antonio.