Surrender is not a word I admire. It doesn’t fill me with longing or desire. I am a grass stain: I work my way into the fibers of my life and stay stuck where I am.
I am, and always have been stubborn, or to paint myself in a more suave light, one might say that I am steadfast. In any event, it was so easy to believe in my own internal world that the concept of not being torn apart by loss and disappointment seemed laughable when I first encountered Thich Nhat Hanh’s teachings on being and touching peace.
Luckily, that’s where my intuition came in. I kept reading. Despite how much disdain I held for the repeated accusations that my emotions and perceptions weren’t real, I kept researching because of some quiet whisper I didn’t even acknowledge hearing.
You could say that I was steadfastly opposed to dissolving my stubbornness and in fact, that’s just what I did. Looking back on 2007 Veronica I could never have imagined understanding an affirmation like the one I have for you today but the truth is, I have come to a point where I not only understand it, but I live it.
At 23 my days are filled with worries about pain in my knee and ankle and I have learned to choose the elevator over one flight of stairs. I have to remind myself it is out of compassion for my body, not laziness, which I am sure the old ladies must presume, judging by their looks. My heart weeps for the loss of my physical freedom, but my spirit laughs with the magic of finding happiness among such despair. If I were perfectly healthy, I wouldn’t know the sweetness of a cold pack of veggies on an inflamed knee.
What does your heart weep for that simultaneously makes your soul sing? What things are you steadfast about?