Falling apart, holding it all together. Then falling apart, then coming back together. Cycles of clarity and confusion. Hopelessness and hope. Heartbreak and bliss. Knowing who we are and why we are here in one moment, deflated in the next as an old dream is recycled into the vast.
As it is in the natural world, inside the heart the sacred process of death and rebirth unfolds, an expression of the unity of matter and spirit.
Inside the opposites it is alive and creative, but there is no solid ground from which to orient. No familiar reference point to look back to or rest in. Only tenderness. Raw. Open. Pregnant. Potential. But what will be reborn from the ashes has not yet been given.
If we remain too identified with “falling apart,” we lose contact with that which was never unhealed, untransformed, and was never “together” to begin with. That innate radiance, the holiness of the breath, and the miracle of having an open sensitive nervous system. We disconnect with the magic of embodied presence, the wisdom of the earth, and the unshakable confidence in our true nature.
But if we remain too identified with “holding it all together,” we split off from our organic spontaneity, imaginative vulnerability, and the truth that the beloved will take whatever form it must to reveal its qualities within us. Raw, achy, illuminating heartbreak may approach at any time, requesting safe passage inside. But it is through this broken aliveness that the poetry of our lives will flow.
Right in the middle of “falling apart” and “holding it together” is the secret place. Go there. It is here where light and dark are in union. For just a moment the veil parts and we are able to see the weaving of the particles of the sacred world.
Photo of Antelope Canyon by hikersbay via Pixabay