Friday, April 1, 2011


     I used to pride myself on being intense. I was extreme by choice and with a certain pride. The farthest possible point from the center was where I wanted to be. I had no use for anything moderate or reasonable. I considered those energies "boring." I wanted to be dynamic to the point of explosivity. Truth be told, it was a bit exhausing and I had messes to clean up, and lots of drama, but it felt like real living to me, like living worth the while. I wanted to burn irrepressibly and ecstatically like a bonfire. Hearth fires were entirely too calm.
     Today, I see things differently. I value what's steady and what's grounded. Catastrophic thinking and pushing myself beyond all reasonable limits do not hold the appeal for me that they once did. Much like a pendulum that swings in wide arcs around a circle, and then cycles closer and closer to center as it continues to swing, I live much closer to the middle than I used to. In fact, ragged divergence from the things that center me are startling and uncomfortable today. They do not feel adventurous and thrilling the way they once did.
     Solitude centers me, and silence, and good food for my intellect as well as my body. And laughter is earthing. It comes from my belly these days and not my nerves. I am anchored in taking the time to sit down and eat my breakfast instead of bursting out of the house with coffee spilling aross my hand. I am centered in breathing and listening, in being thoughtful before I speak in an important conversation.
     All of which is not to say that I am lacking passion. I most certainly am not! But it's passion with roots. I am no longer a pinball flicked about by the currents of movements around me. I am solid in a way I have never been before,and directed by my values instead of my mood. I know what matters and which way to turn for answers. I know that it's ok to have doubt, to not be sure, to feel afraid, but none of it is reckless today. It is built on something strong and sure, something I have discovered within me, a certain trust. It is faith and freedom and courage and love. It is my anchor and my launchpad both. It is age and wisdom. It is the consequence of growth.

I am solid today, and earthed. I am anchored in my values and rooted in faith.