Allow

The other morning I woke up early, as is my new custom [If you ever would have told me back in the day that I would love getting up at 5:30 am, I never would have believed you. But love it I do]. I was stretching the last vestiges of sleep out of my body when a word floated into my head. There it has stayed, influencing my days.

Allow.

As in, trust. As in, step back and relax. As in, trust that all will happen at the right time, and trust that there is a time for everything. Trust the universe and its impeccable timing. Step back, relax, and allow life to unfold.

I have never been much of an allower. I am much more of a doer and a controller. I used to think that I was such a relaxed person, and in some ways I am, but motherhood and its inherent responsibilities have really brought out the controller and frantic doer in me.

Thankfully, the universe blesses me with teachers to help me learn a new way of being. A way of relaxing, a way of accepting.

A way of allowing.


[Even this blog post turned out to be a teacher. I actually wrote this last night, only to have it dissipate into the infinity of cyberspace. I was upset and frustrated until I saw the irony of it all - it is a post about allowing, trusting and accepting, after all. So I just took it as a lesson in letting go, and that made me feel much better. Even though I'm not super excited to be writing this a second time...] 


Now I'm not talking about allowing in the sense of unhealthy permissiveness - as in allowing myself and my children to eat candy and watch movies all day, or allowing my children to always get their way and become demanding monsters. No, I'm talking about allowing in a higher sense. I'm talking about allowing my children the time and space to explore, to learn, to delight [instead of rushing them off to get all the things done that mama wants to do]. I'm talking about allowing myself to relax and expand into any given moment, to live fully in that moment, to drink in all the universe is handing me right then and there.

[Like the vibrant red of homegrown radishes in my hands. Like the smooth curve where Mina's cheek and neck meet as I softly kiss. Like standing outside with my eyes closed, breath drawn deep into my lungs.]

I am talking about allowing myself to live my joy.

Living my joy means allowing myself to live without guilt. Like taking a nap when I'm sleepy [instead of working outside like I "should" be doing.] Like reading during a rare quiet moment [instead of cleaning the house]. Like enjoying an evening with my husband [instead of writing a blog post.] Like playing with my children, like entering into their world [instead of trying to accomplish the list of tasks that will always be there]. [But I'm also talking about allowing myself no guilt for letting them watch a Sesame Street every now and then so I can actually get some cleaning done.]

Living my joy is allowing myself to listen to my root voice [my voice of Spirit.] I often listen to my head voice, which is loud and insistent and very opinionated about what I "should" be doing. Listening to my head voice wears me out and leaves me feeling depleted. Following my root voice nourishes me, replenishes my energy, and connects me to Spirit. It allows me to feel the joy present in every given moment, if only I am present enough to perceive it.

May you allow yourself your joy [may we all]. May you live your many blessings.

*Gratitude*