women with head in hands

Paralysis

It’s been a tough few weeks. 

Not long after I wrote and scheduled my most recent missive, I learned that my former partner had taken his own life.

I fell down a rabbit hole.

I’m still falling, I think. 

There was wailing, gathering, a flight, a funeral, a storage unit, reminiscing, crying, ceremonies, dreams, apologies, confusion, anger, frustration, exhaustion, beauty, magic.

In other words, grieving.

Lots of grieving.

I let go of most things for a little while.

The world keeps going, it seems.

Here are some magic words I’ve been reading often the last week or two. 

I share for a time when you need them:

Honoring Paralysis

From “Prayers of Honoring Grief” by Pixie Lighthorse (brilliant book, highly recommend)

Thank you for this day of frozen stillness. Hold me while I’m in this cocoon of difficulty. When I feel stuck, let me allow myself to be held—to relax into the ample arms of the void.

Help me find the filament that connects me to the sacred, geometric, intelligent cosmos. Remind me that I am not grasping for anything but the knowledge that I am connected. Show me no false rafts to keep me afloat. Let me sense what I know but cannot see. Let the invisible slowly become visible. Remind me that I pulse with the electricity of life even when dormant.

Drain my frustrations, which cause me to spin my gears and wear me out. Mute the ceaseless chatter in my mind that burgers me to do something, anything. The doing can wait. Let this still state be a healing place, if only temporary. Help me trust that I will know when and how to move. Help me reassure my mind with ample space to be in this chrysalis, becoming soundless in order to hear the sparks of the fire that warm me into the form of my higher self.

When I feel emotionally flattened, infuse me with the fragrant beauty sniffed on a forest floor. When I feel dull and listless, let me move tectonically to care for myself without the urge to do more. When I feel fastened to my nest or ashamed about loitering, blanket me with honesty about how patient a process this is. Let the cemented weights on me bring deeper commitment to the art of slowing down.

Keep me connected, knowing that tranquility grows inside of me and is a good enough place to be for now. Help me amplify my access to the glowing forces that brought me here.

Let’s remember that not everything needs to move quickly.

Let’s allow ourselves to be something other than productive.

Quietly yours,

Rachel

Similar Posts

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *