Lesson 5: "New You"; and a Rescue from a dark cave.

I like how Stephanie (the OM course instructor) speaks about a 'new you' as basically being the self that has always been in you, waiting to come out.  Now I know that the real me who is not riddled with worry has already come out to play many times before, so it's really not all that new, but hearing her express what this new you can look like was surprisingly uncanny: "innocent and curious like a child, deeply happy like a dog on a walk in the woods, giddy like an explorer who has found hidden treasure, or content and complete like a grandma sitting in her rocking chair recounting stories of her remarkable life."

I tend to have those child-like characteristics when I am creating, happy and feeling fulfilled.

I just assumed that was unique to me.  I didn't know others also would gravitate to the same sense of wonder and awe.

I suspected others would think those things too childish and instead would describe less playful moments of groundedness.

Although, when she asks "what does the new you look and feel like?"  There is a grounded picture alongside the grown up but alive child in me.  

I want to laugh more, for sure.  And play and explore.  That is already a given.

But I also want be less reactionary to things that could upset me.  I want to differentiate and not take things too personally, and allow others to make mistakes and not fix them or try to save them.

...

This past week I have been praying and holding my breath in sympathy with the rescue mission of the Thai soccer boys and coach stuck in a cave.  It looked so dire and scary and we all just longed for them to be brought to safety and for goodness to come from this.  And it did.  Despite the sad death of one of the rescuers early on, all were brought to safety.  This is something positive that the world could focus on and unite on.  Thank God.  I prayed late last night and woke up this morning seeking good news -- and saw it first thing this morning!  Hallelujah!

After contemplating likely death, those boys and their coach have been given new life.  They were brought to safety from perilous circumstances, having to first undergo a long time of waiting in the dark, then trust and risk a difficult journey with a guide and a back-up helper, and now are learning to eat fully again.  It was all a process, not a sudden winning of the lottery or a dramatic vision, but a new lease on life after a time of seeming hopelessness.

My story is different, for sure, but in some ways similar.

I want change now.  I want release.  I want happiness and freedom without the pain of circumstances.  I must wait.  First, to be found.  Next, to be brought provisions.  Then for the way to be prepared for me.  And then to be guided through the dark and murky winding path to the opening, following the lifeline.  And once I'm out, it will take time to develop the strength to eat solid food, adjust to full daylight, and to play again.

But play I will.

With an appreciation of all that brought me to a greater sense of what I want to hold on to, 

and what I can now let go of.