Go to the limits of your longing
The Way under the Way
“You, sent out beyond your recall, go to the limits of your longing. Embody Me."
~ Rainer Maria Rilke
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Because Human-ing is harder than Adulting. This is a weekly publication for heart-centered warriors, swimming through this thing called Life.
Selected Readings and Sounds:
Go to the Limits of Your Longing, Rainer Maria Rilke
Notes on the Below, Ada Limon
Dear Embodied Hearts and Dancing Souls,
Somehow the depths of my despair this week has led to not one or two but three revelations. Therefore this is a two-parter, at the least.
Savor. I started this week being reminded to SAVOR this precious period in my life where I get to live as a writer. Whether in a coffee shop or taking a long walk in nature, I am still writing. The pleasure and warmth of feeling the sun on my face during a Monday afternoon feels a birthright. Previously I would be hunched over a laptop indoors. Entering this year, I’ve cooked more to earn my keep. I’ve gotten into an embodied rhythm of feeding us—preparation I would have gawked at before is getting easier. This means I got to eat this home cooked meal from leftovers for lunch. I got to notice this beautiful piece of sidewalk art (as I like to call these finds).
Beyond the acts of doing there is so much room for Being, then writing. It’s this quality of being full on Alive as a Being in a body. For the past six months I’ve had the privilege and honor of living life as a writer. One of my favorite children’s books had a character who had typewriter smudges on her hands, a pencil tucked behind her ear, and unkempt hair coming out a ponytail. Little did I know, I dreamt of being her.
Have I always remembered to embrace this type of life–as temporary as it may be–like it is trying to embrace me? Not by a long shot. I usually run around a distressed human trying to get “In the Know.” But on this day, in Flow, I could acknowledge that for the most part, Life is OK handling itself.
Fear Fall. The very next day, I encountered a weird communications push back from a recruiter who asked me to withdraw a job application in a backhanded way. I have been out of this game for a long time. Suddenly the enormity of our fiscal situation hit me. Have I become too much of a unicorn? As a creative, can I earn a living? When? With two income streams dry for 2 months, fear and doubt flooded my system. I went into full-on fear fall. I felt its physiology—a freezing numbness course through me. A terrifying voice says that I still have a long way to go.
Then I found the words I needed to hear in this video:
I felt exactly like this boy at mark 0:19, and again at mark 0:30. I just don’t know if I can do this. Then the Fox steps in. His words are the rallying cry of all the “inside jobs” I have discovered in these weekly revelations and shared with you (with some for four to five years). Each of us is unique and no one else can be who we came here to be.
Each of us is unique and no one else can be who You came here to be.
Still, it would nice if it came with more of a script, I grumbled. I rubbed my cat extra much this night.
Interestingly as I pondered a title for this letter, the phrase “we go to the limits of my longing” come to mind. Immediately, my fingers hit the keyboard in curiosity. And there it was, this poem by Rilke. In the poem, Rilke reminds:
Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror.
Just keep going. No feeling is final.
Don’t let yourself lose me.
Influence and Choice, not control. My husband and I watched Flow, an animated film that followed a group of animals in a post-apocalyptic world submerged by a massive flood. The protagonist was a black cat who constantly danced between his fear and curiosity. Fear made him run away while curiosity pulled him forward. We watched him get repeatedly thrown out of the boat and struggle to get back in the boat. We worried with him. Over time, he grew curious: Fish lived in the water. He always found his way back. Soon he leapt in willingly, to bring back fish.
Is this me? I am surrounded by the ocean of Not Knowing, of Not in my Control. As far as I’ve come, there is so much more to go. The only “know” I have is when in flow.
I reach out to a friend who is exceptional at listening. By the time we are done, I realize I may not have control, but I do have influence. I have the power to identify my needs, do the research to find roles that support my goals and flow with possibilities from here. It reminds me of this quote from A Gentleman in Moscow:
If a man does not master his circumstances, then he is bound to be mastered by them. ~ Amor Towles
I don’t offer this to imply “control”, but rather, reminding myself (and others) that I can choose to press the gas pedal of my wants and steer towards that. I can ask, “What Supports Me? What do I want more of? Less?” Life doesn’t just happen for me, it is trying to happen with me.
Playing with sound, I honor a growl in my belly—those are my needs sitting low in my body. The growl rises up and out my throat: I have needs. Be honest about them.
In the silence. Amidst my friend’s witnessing, I found a gracious pause to listen. I could hear my heart beating and the stillness of the moment. Really, this place said (like the horse in the clip above), take a moment to look at all you have realized: a book has come into form, then speaking, even publishing. I am in a kind of flow—tiny steps, experimenting with my voice and messages while laying down foundational bits for the Center. I feel more rooted in love than ever —part of a family. This does not have to be Everything All At Once. Did I reach a limit in my longing? Perhaps, yet I have realized many longings along the way.
I have to remember to not fall in the trap of trying to get somewhere. That’s the death knell; it stops the show. Instead, I’m listening for the Way under the Way where:
There is nothing to do and nowhere to go.
We all turn on the center of our spiral, upwards and outwards in our essential expression. I meet you here each week, dear hearts, to hear my silent life partner who in Rilke’s poem beseeches “Do not let yourself lose me.”
At the mouth of the cave. Being at this limit of my longing, feels like the cave Ada Limon finds herself in. Her poem is exquisite, both in itself and as a companion to Rilke’s longing. Too many essential pieces, I implore you to read the whole thing. For now, I paste in this thread:
Desire is a tricky thing, the boiling of the body’s wants,
more praise, more hands holding the knives away.
I’ve been the one who has craved and craved until I could not see
beyond my own greed. There’s a whole nation of us.
To forgive myself, I point to the earth as witness.
As she beseeches the Earth to reveal her secrets, she concludes:
I am at the mouth of the cave. I am willing to crawl. ~ Ada Limon
All of this spills into the first revelation. I’m stumbling onto a dance between Confidence and Humility—which must await the next love letter.
To your exquisite unfolding. Stay #heartwoke.
Monisha
When we belong to ourselves, we move freely. ~ Monisha Mittal
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I become too much of a unicorn!