"Sit down and rest, little one"

We’ve been misbehaving and we are on mandatory “time out.” (Metaphorically) My inner little rebel snuck out to the last yoga studio open yesterday morning, only to discover that someone had walked off with the key and we were locked out. Now, even that studio is closed.

“Go sit in your corner for a while”, I am told.

Yesterday, when my body finally collapsed on the sofa, the tears held so long at bay started to pour.  

“Go be quiet for a while, Lori,” my heart says.

It turns out that there were many tears behind that wall of busyness and responsibility that I had erected these last couple weeks.  That’s the thing with tears they wait, like God does, until I am ready.

“Let everything go, Lori,” says the voice of healing.

“And if you don’t, it will be ripped out of your fingers,” says the voice of my soul.  This is not the first time healing of my heart has ripped something precious from my fingers.

“Grieve, little one,” they whisper. “ Grieve, or else you will become sick deep in your lungs (the place for grief).”

“Sit down, cry,… and then rest.”

I did have tears on hold. Someone precious to me had thoughts of not wanting to live last week. My heart grieved the possible loss, last week without tears, now with tears. It certainly puts pain in perspective. Although, I am grateful that this darkness has passed for them this time, there is the poignant recognition that loss is ever lingering. We are never immune. We are never protected from pain. We are fragile, encased in these bodies, no guarantees that what we can do tomorrow will be the same as what we can do today.

While all this is true, in the quiet, I can once again hear the steady song of love and support -

“We are here. Sit down for a while. You are so weary from carrying this burden alone. We are here to help you, if you ask. You were never meant to be alone in this. If you stop, you will hear our voices and feel our love.”

“Rest, little one. Breathe. Cry and laugh, if you choose.”  

“Spend time with those you love, connect with people you’ve been too busy to call, read the book you’ve been delaying... and realize the bounty that already existed around you...”

“Just be.”  

“And then, quite possibly you can restart again at a slower pace, and without as much carried pain.”