Staying with the moment

We jump to conclusions when the moment sustains. When, like a floating musical note in the middle of a phrase, a sentence hangs delicately, dangerously suspended in the air.

When anything can happen.
And we’re worried it will be the worst thing.

I have done this over and over. I have waited, breath held, body tense and rigid, waiting for the blow, for the verdict. Waiting for the thing that I’ve been expecting, the goodbye, the cast aside, the carelessness. The callous, heartless coldness. The unintentional dismissal. Intentional but not purposefully cruel.

The blows have fallen. My head has bowed under a hailstorm of “I like you, but—”
”This is great, except—” “It’s been fun—” “It wouldn’t work anyway”
You are not for me.
I’ll be gone.

It has come out of nowhere, a sudden goodbye. And I always think I am so perceptive.

The fear bubbles up, braiding my consciousness with murky colors, burying my buttery light with its foreboding.
I watch it quietly, wonderingly. It has come up so fast. Why am I so afraid?

I sip in slow breaths, the air filling me with perspective.
Words try to cram my mind, You don’t want to know / don’t ask questions / you’ve been here before / what do you expect / anything can happen / it will probably be that thing / just like the rest

But my breath has come in and loosens the murkiness so that it lifts and I can speak to it separately.

I don’t reassure it that the words I want to hear will happen. I don’t tell it it is wrong. I don’t say, see you later.

I look at it with compassion and say, It doesn’t matter. Whatever happens. It’s going to be okay. I’m going to be okay. Just listen.

I feel different. I trust myself. I trust that the universe has my back. Whether or not that means I re-form the pieces of my heart. Whether or not that means something happens that caves me in, that makes me feel hurt. It’s all okay. I can feel, I can move. I can live.

I am living now.

I stop the avalanche of worry, of jumping to conclusions, of knowing what’s going to happen. Good or bad.
Because I don’t know.
But I can stay with the moment.

My muscles untangle, my light is sweet and soft and fluid again, like a sparkling streak of sunlight, like a trickling stream.
I don’t think. I don’t get lost in my thoughts. I am just here. Listening. Waiting.

Knowing nothing but trust.

with joy and confetti,

Alexa