A line
I stand before a line in the sand. Its impermanence is clear and has become an invitation to beg ‘why not’. This wasn’t always my response. A line used to be a line – a demarcation. A ‘do not cross’ sign. Imagine the power of this thin, simple shape. It signifies: in or out, yes or no, acceptable or not. Add a few more and you get a square – a shape that shouts constraint. In short, a line is the sign of a limit.
The above ‘line’ I mentioned lies in my mind which is why it holds special powers. I trust what is on one side while I question what’s on the other. Some of the lines I draw while others were drawn for me. It matters less how they got there than the fact that I have the power to decide whether or not they are boundaries. This line I am up against is equality. It’s yes or no. Am I equal?
I have been working my way towards this for some time. The logic is there. Equality is double-edged. I am no better and I am no worse. The first part feels easy. I treat all others kindly and embrace my successes with humility because they are gifts. The latter logically follows suit. However, this second half is where I find my logic leaving me. I must make sense of it in order to cross over. There’s no straddling this line. You either believe you are equal or you don’t. Upon second glance, my line is looking more like a chasm. I realize I am grasping at an idea that only needs believing. And trust eludes those who need to grasp.
How is that we can come to a point where believing is easy and then suddenly it’s not? Ideologically, I know I am equal, but why don’t I feel equal? I can see now that I’ve really been asking myself this question forever. When action is born from a place of proving, it answers for me – not equal. It is so very clear though that we can only explain ourselves so far. In the end, we must feel our way to the other side. The concepts of limitlessness, equality, and flow are born from trust. My limits, my lines, born from all the invisible social constructs attempting to shape me and my compliance with them, keep me safe. But they keep me small.
When every cell of my being knows it is equal, I will be limitless. This knowing, the idea that I am not worthy when, but right now, requires a leap of faith. To believe I am already everything I need and hope to be, requires trust. On my journey to become expansive, I have come across a reality. Growth cannot be accomplished without trust.
Sometimes I think about how frustratingly simple it all is. If I want to feel equal, enough, worthy, I need only believe it. That’s it. One minute I am proving myself, the next I am peaceful powerhouse. It’s simple, and yet not always easy. There are forces that work against us. Invisible ones that seep into us and shape our mind’s landscape. For this, I find the antidote is a peaceful one – awareness. When I become aware of my thoughts and beliefs, I have the choice to heed the line or erase it. To see the invisible is to rob it of its power. No, it’s more like a transfer of power – watching the intangible manifest itself with trust, makes me stronger.
Where do I go now? What lies beyond?
More. I don’t know the specifics but I can feel it my bones. It’s actually more and less: more freedom, peace, ease and less stress, worries and fears. Fear, once left unchecked is ever-present, but tamer. It’s faint voice now accompanied by my own. Will this line I cross be the one to punish me for my faith? Or like all the erased lines before it, reward me for my courage. I will wander this new landscape, enjoying it. I know it will reveal to me one day another line in the sand. I know this uncomfortable and awkward moment is a metamorphosis. With the time, the lines will grow more distant, my soul emboldened with each moment I spend in trust.
