Beginnings :: Lisa Gonzales
Start anywhere and trust that you will work your way into something meaningful. Start where you are and trust that the material is already emerging. Allow the many facets of the moment, the myriad paths into presence, the chorus of tissues singing you into awareness to wake you to the possibilities.
So here I am…beginning. Way past my bedtime. Or too early to be fully aware. Or smack dab in the middle of the day to day exercises. All the time, at any time, beginning is a possibility. In this moment I am excited and honored to have the opportunity to dive in. A few moments ago I was desperately warding off my fear-based procrastination techniques.
I knew I should never have agreed to go last on this one. Beginnings as an ending. I remember the phase when I realized that all endings were actually beginnings and I remember finding that so moving and inspiring. Now, in this other place, I can confess that I do not enjoy beginnings very much. I tolerate them, out of necessity. They cause me too much anxiety, too much pressure, too much anticipation, there’s too much space in them (Actually, I must make the dance of the beginning without space. Or let me the begin the dance I am doing without the space I think I need. Or let me dance the beginning space with and without, within and without.)
To begin, to come into being, to arise, to originate.
Beginning. Begin Begin Begin Beginner. Begs. Begins. Beginner. Begs. Beginnerbegs Beginners beg . Beginners beg for mercy. Mercy. Mercy. Mercy.
Beginnings are fraught. Beginnings are exhausting, exhilarating, excruciating. Beginnings can be revolutionary…or deadly. Beginnings are unavoidable. Sometimes it’s about how we choose to see them…as opportunities…or inevitabilities. Sometimes we have very little choice. I remember a time in my life when I knew I was around only because hope was imbedded in my bones. I couldn’t feel it in any way that I could consciously know. But, it was there because I chose to stay around. The quiet power in beginnings is a little like that. The stance that you intend to stay around.
To open oneself to the unfolding. To take a stance on allowing.
You know that feeling…that if you had known how hard it was going to be to do the thing you did you might never have done it? But, an essential part of you is glad you did it because it was a part of your trajectory…and that feels important. The moments that make us who we are. Fear, awe. And, what about the beginnings after you know how hard they can be? The beginnings, that inevitably come after endings. The begin again and again…again. So full of hope, we begin again.