Fluctuations

Like shifting sands in changing landscapes, the force of my will and emotions keeps oscillating between points of time.  Never sure from one minute to the next if I'm standing stable on my own Self platform, or flying into a dreamworld where every thread of my history seems to be trying to work itself out.

For the first time this week, a dream about Mom and Dad, together, hanging out with the rest of the players in the plot, easy, smiley, clearly reflecting the grace I imagine they share in their mutual transition.  The assumption of my own constant state of transition is itself in question:  even the usual outcomes of potentials for the future seem fragile, as if any movement could dislodge the one thing that will anchor me.

I ran long on Sunday, maybe the best and longest run in a while.  The weather and other disruptions have kept me from the roads since.  Today I managed a 4+ miler on the treadmill, which was much tougher than I anticipated.  Miami marathon takes place this Sunday coming, and no I am not participating.  My hope is to take myself out for a run in homage to the event and the runners who are putting themselves on the line, and find my own route through the inconsistency of my efforts.  One day, some way, I will resurrect the runner in me who feels stronger and better with every run.  But that time does not seem to be now.

When the world talks to us, we seem to pick up the words, images and signs which reflect our inner yearnings and unfolding.  Lately its been this theme of fluctuations, ebbs, flows, contractions and expansions.  We come to expect the rhythm as something we should recognize, control.  When the speed goes out of our range or understanding we experience it as chaos, distress, discomfort.  I hope I am learning to pause just long enough to appreciate the rate of change as a Rhythm outside my current capacity to encompass.  I like the idea that a Song is being sung of us, our world, and leading us like a Pied Piper to, not illusion, but transcendence.   Every moment seems rich in potential;  the delicate balance of staying awake and aware to the Center which holds us feels even more important.  And I somehow feel supported by the swoosh of nothing at all.