The wind blew so hard that I wavered in my stance.
The rain pelted me like a million tiny bullets
threatening to bring me to my knees.
Why just a moment ago,
or was it an hour,
or a day,
or a year,
I was safe,
safe within my groove.
The groove, as I had come to call it,
was not a place.
It was a state of mind,
a calmness of spirit,
a feeling of joy,
a level of consciousness.
The groove was like an indentation in my mind.
A safe, protected feeling that
life could proceed without
the skids and bumps
of struggle.
Like an old time phonograph player,
the needle of my awareness,
could settle into the pattern of the groove
and the melody of my life
would play itself at a steady and uninterrupted pace.
Until…
something
or someone
would bump against me
and send my focus
racing across the surface of my life.
Then a crack would be created in my groove,
a weakness where I could more easily be bumped,
more easily be distracted and disrupted
from the center of my Self.
This nick was a potential moment when I could
fall out of harmony,
fall out of rhythm,
rhythm with my spirit and,
rhythm with my soul.
Then I was exposed again…
exposed to the wind,
exposed to the rain,
exposed to my struggle-
and the struggle of others-
exposed to FEAR.
Yes, fear was that which stole me from my groove.
Fear was that which created the crack
that exposed me to more fear…
fear and the struggle which created
more fear and more struggle.
Within the groove
I was calm,
and peaceful,
and faithful,
and filled with
love.
Within the groove
I could withstand
any storm,
any fear.
But then…
something
or someone
would bump against my love
and cause me fear.
Once in fear,
my protection was gone,
my peace was gone,
my rhythm was gone.
The fear then became my groove.
This fear made me struggle to escape.
But…
I was trapped in the quicksand
of my own creation and
the more I struggled,
the more I fought,
the deeper I would
sink into the groove of fear.
Only faith could save me then,
faith that love had not deserted me.
Faith that I had not deserted
myself.
Could I surrender to the faith
that love had not deserted me
in the midst of fear’s fight?
If I could surrender,
perhaps I could remember that
the wind was not trying to topple me.
Perhaps I could remember then that
it was my own resistance to the winds of change
that threatened to knock me form my feet.
Then I could remember that
the rain was not bullets,
but was instead droplets from above
sent to cleanse that which was soiled
and to feed that which was growing.
If I could surrender to the wind
and allow it to guide me,
if I could surrender to the rain
ad allow it to cleanse and nurture me…
If I could surrender enough
to remember to love…
love the rain,
and yes,
even love the fear
and the struggle it created.
Then my mind could calm,
my spirit could connect,
and my consciousness could rise
above the struggle,
above the pain,
and above the cycle of–
fear creating fear
creating fear…
Then the rains could softly
rinse away my fear
and feed my hope.
The wind could then guide me back,
back into the groove.
Yes I remember NOW.
It was my Soul
that bumped against me.
My Soul created the crack
that had pushed me from my groove
and into the struggle–
into the fear.
But why?
Why would my Soul
expose me to fear
“Because I love you,”
my Soul whispered in the wind.
“Because my love
washes you clean of your fear.”
For only in facing your fear
can you remember to grow.
“A groove that is never left becomes a prison.
A fear that is never faced becomes your jailer
. And the love,
that is the key to your cell,
is forgotten!
Remember now
your love,
so you can face your fear
again!”
