Our strength is our softness

The architecture of our lives is cards and toothpicks.

And wrapping toilet paper rolls around it doesn’t make it stronger.

We want so desperately to be safe, to believe we have a home, to be able to close our eyes at night with guarantees the sun will rise and all will be well with the world.

We are people who make vows and promises; we sign contracts; we think we know what we are doing. 

We break them and make them again. 

We earnestly believe, and then we don’t anymore. 

Is that our fault? 

Are we untrustworthy?

Is the world untrustworthy?

When the snow falls hard in Colorado, all the lines on the road disappear; I find myself driving down the middle, slowly, with awe, and a little glee because isn’t it absurd that all the rules just disappear? 

The rules, the rights, the way things work just vanishes and I am left with trusting myself.  

When everything falls apart, nothing stands between you and the view.  

When the conditions are gone, you find your unconditionality.

You are not your job.

You are not your relationships.

You are not your economic status.

You are not your health status.

You are not where you live or how you live.

You are not what other people think about you.

You are not even what you think about yourself. 

You are love.

And you are Beloved.

This is what cancer returned us to.

This is what suffering returns us to.

This is home base.  

And I don’t know anything that returns us to it so clearly and completely other than suffering (maybe a really consistent meditation practice).

We can fear the deconstruction....it’s ok...we are vulnerable humans...but the truth is: our strength is our softness. 

Softness is our strength.