Upside Down

It has been one of those weeks that takes a lot of all the stuff I need more of.  We are in week two of the low iodine diet and the thought and preparation that has gone into every single meal is starting to wear on me. My patience is thin. I know it could be worse, but I long for the opportunity to not have to think about every meal and every ingredient.

On Wednesday night I taught a lesson on The Beatitudes. We talked about the idea of each beatitude bearing a double blessing. The blessing of current condition--which is not necessarily a pleasant state, and the future blessing--the reward. I love The Beatitudes because they teach us what we don't really want to know: suffering or struggle can be a blessing. Little did I know how much I needed to hear myself speak these truths out loud.  

On the way home that night I stopped by the post office to get the mail. I pulled two packages out of the box. I sat in my car and looked at the first one addressed to me from the District Attorney. I felt my heartbeat begin to quicken, my stomach begin to turn. I knew what this was. Finally, after a lot of deep breathing and a call to my courage, I opened the package. Inside I found a letter detailing the arraignment and May court date of the man who robbed us before Christmas. There were forms instructing me of my rights as a victim, there was information regarding a possible subpoena to testify, there was a form for me to fill out detailing the impact this crime has had on my life. And it all came flooding back. 

Later that night, when I couldn't sleep, I opened the second package. It was a book of blessings I had ordered and didn't expect to receive until next week. In the introduction to his book, The Space Between Us, John  O'Donohue writes "...God is omnipresent, and life itself is the primal sacrament, namely the visible sign of invisible grace. The structures of our experience are the windows into the divine.When we are true to our call of experience, we are true to God." I breathed in those words and welcomed, at least for that night this blessing of experience. 

Of course, everyday is a new day, and when I awoke yesterday, I woke with a heaviness. As I went through the day, I found myself feeling more and more lonely, more and more angry, but only because I didn't want to let myself feel what was trying to surface again: fear. I had almost talked myself out of yoga class in the evening until I realized fear was what brought me to that class in the first place, and I couldn't let it take it away from me. Needless to say, by the time I got to the mat, I was a ball of issues. I struggled the entire time. Nothing came easily. Blessedly, our class was small last night and our teacher talkative with all of the stuff I needed to hear, so by the end of class when it was time to go to the wall and stand on our hands, I remembered why I was there. When Aaron asked me if I was ready to kick up on the wall--the thing I have always refused to do--I said "I don't want to, but I think I need to." And here is what I realized: When we have to call on our strength, we immediately feel weakest. When we have to be brave, we feel the most fearful. With the help of a compassionate teacher, I went up on that wall even though everything in my body told me not to. The moment was brief. I cussed. And then I cried. But I did it.  

On the way out of class, I found myself in conversation with a sweet soul of a woman. I had never known her name, but she has always been one of my safe people in class--she has an easy smile that she often directs at me. We stood in the parking lot talking for awhile. She asked me my story and spoke sweet, sweet words to me. She told me some great stories and shared her heart with me. She hugged me when we parted, and I was thankful that after being willing to be upside down for a moment, when I stood back up, there was someone standing there and that was where I found my blessing. In a parking lot, in the space between us.