The Muddy, Wandering Trail
70-mph winds and meh coleslaw: the sacred mess of our inconsistencies
In the past 5 days, I have:
Run outside to feel the fury of a thunderstorm with 70-mph winds, while being in my head about how it’s “so like me” to run outside to feel a storm.
Been triggered by people voicing complaints about how hard it is to be creative in a capitalist society, while at the same time, completely agreeing with them.
Eaten a exceptionally good burrito.
Eaten some very meh coleslaw.
Watched myself hang back and not join a conversation, even though 3 days earlier, someone referred to me as “very direct”. Since then, I’ve been baffled about whether I’m a wallflower or a bulldozer.
Planned how finish the 51 hours left on my Tantric practice requirements, even though earlier that day, I had a conversation about how deity practices don’t work for me.
Been moved to tears by a friend’s difficulties while my thoughts were listing all the ways she had made things worse for herself.
Stood agape, marveling at a downed tree with a split trunk that was at least 2’ in diameter.
Passed judgement on a neighbor who lets their dog run off leash in their front yard.
Every day, maybe every hour, I live the experience of sacred mess. Contradictions, incongruities, unpredictableness. Things go every which way. If I’m really honest, my being is woven from chaos.
I’m tempted to chalk this up to life, to not make it into anything other than the concrete details of how humans live.
But equally honestly, I know it’s more.
When I lean into the ungainly, irrational, stupefying contradictions of my life, I feel closer to the realness of my experience. I feel closer to the holiness of living. I feel closer to Truth—not the made-up, pretty truth that we tell ourselves to organize our world—but to how things actually are.
I have loved people who have treated me poorly, and mistreated people I love. I start, stop, backtrack, make left turns, and then circle back again, all while complaining about the exact circumstances I’m creating. I rage fiercely about blue reflecting pools and gigantic ugly arches, while not actually doing anything to change things. I cry when I see the limp beauty of a faded, rotting peony, as if there could be nothing more exquisite. My heart swells when I watch a stranger offer another stranger a seat on the bus, as if there could no bigger sacrifice.
The deeper I go into this mess, the more grounded and calm my mind feels. It’s as if I’m following a muddy, wandering trail that only I can see, a trail that leads me to the heart of living with love, beauty, and authenticity.
What can be more sacred than that?
Where does your muddy, wandering trail of sacred mess lead you?
If you’re also navigating the gap between awe and disgust, tenderness and judgmentalism, I’d love to know. Leave a 'Yes' in the comments if you're on this muddy trail with me.
How to “Be With”
The advice-of-the-day is to be present. You’ll hear everyone from therapists, coaches, mindfulness practitioners, or self-help gurus telling you to be present with what’s happening, to “be with” it, and not try to change it.
But what does this actually mean? Is it really possible to just experience our lives without getting our minds involved?
This week, Emily Conway and myself explain ourselves. We will discuss our own stories of being (and NOT being) present.
Monday, June 15 at 11:00 CT
To catch up on all the old podcasts, click here.
THRESHOLD LIVE PODCAST
Yes, and I’m still spending a lot of my time trying to sort out and organize the mess rather than just be with it. However, I’m beginning to let writing do the sorting and organizing and leave the rest of my life for being with. Writing has enough mystery involved that it’s one of the few spaces I can trust to organize and sort in ways that my “self” would not:).