Saturday, October 2, 2010

I Heard You Smiling

      I am startled every day----yes every single day---at how true-ly and pure-ly our "guts" speak to  us.  Now, if you're like me, you may not always want to listen to what your right-on-target/I'm-giving-it-to-you-straight intuition is telling you.  But, we  can count on that raw, unfiltered, gnawing-knowing as our  wisest and most valuable counsel.  I am not sure why I (you too?) fight so when it comes to trusting our  own guts.  I try to talk myself out of what I know to be true about myself.  I rationalize, theorize, and can finally---if I really need to---totally convince myself of some flem-flam thought or scheme or belief.  Oh, what a waste of energy it is to try and lie to ourselves---even about little stuff.  But we do.  I do.  You do. 
It has taken me 56 years, but I think I have finally come to know and understand that one of the best gifts we can give ourselves  is  to trust that sure, solid, unwavering, inner voice that knows ---without hesitation --our own personal truth.
     All of my "Please don't talk to me about God" readers will want to close your eyes through this next sentence, but for me---just for me---my gut---my natural intuition is what I know as God talking to me----that voice that sometimes even has to mud-wrestle me to the ground. That voice that has to get me in that double-Nelson soul grip even though  every cell in my body already  knows what is true.  Even with that, I still try to over-talk, out-run, or shellac-over that steady, unwavering, "This is what you know to do"  voice.  Why on earth do we do that?  We each have this incredible gift of truth that lives inside of us, and we do everything within us to stomp on it, hide it, ignore it or yell back at it.  Why?
  So, if you've lived through those first two paragraphs, bravo.  Here's where I was headed when I started out:  For the past two days, I have sort of faked living in my own skin.  I have been restless and full of dis-ease with things.  Taylor has not felt well and I have worked hard to smile and keep going---pretending.  Conjuring up enthusiasm that was sickly and skimpy.  I really thought I had faked Taylor out. 
It's so weird because  I often give him so little credit for his incredibly fine-tuned "gut."  Although he cannot articulate his inner knowing, Taylor knows when the people around him are out-of-sync/ off balance/faking it.  There is not enough wool in this world to pull over his innocent eyes.  Gut is what he runs on.  No double guessing for him.  More lessons from  me.  Oh S*%$#.
   Finally sometime this afternoon,  I just got real still and prayed.  I stopped.  I breathed. I beckoned.  I cried.  I listened.  I rested into the arms of my gut----into the welcome of me.  And something shifted.  For the better.  I relaxed. I decided not to try so hard and be damn fake perfect. ( As if!)  And still there's  that need to die trying to be it all.  Right?  Oh? You too? 
    But finally and thankfully, I gave in to  just being with my own self---paying attention, observing, feeling "at home" again in my own body.  I was not wrestling---just resting in the uniqueness of my very own humanity (Don't barf; I love those words.)  You see, my "God" voice---my gut voice---had been whispering what it always does while I'm out hollering and trying to outmaneuver the world around me.
"You are  already connected to all that is holy."
 "You know all that you need to know."
  "It's all inside.  You are love (ed.)"
And just about then I felt that sweet little hand on my arm---Taylor's hand on my arm.
And in that gentle, precious voice, Taylor said to me, "I heard you smiling, mama."
He, too, had heard that voice. 
That voice---that truth---that knowing---that, simply put, is peace.
"I heard you smiling," he said.
The sound of  (inner) peace.
You can hear it.