Becoming authentic through living the questions that life poses

Earlier this week, I pondered on the paradoxes of hope.  I wondered if there can truly be false hope.  I promised to be a scientist of the heart and to experiment in the laboratory of life, via the medium of dating.  Well, it has been painful, fruitful and utterly confusing but I am here to report that having taken the risk of being vulnerable and opening up my heart, I am stronger and wiser.  There are still no answers, and what remains are possibly even more questions than before.  But having expanded my heart by being authentic and real, I am remembering what it feels like to be most fully myself – alive, wild, courageous and luminescent.

“Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.”
Rainer Maria Rilke


Quiet, upon hope’s arrival

When hope arrives, it brings the possibility of failure. Of loss.  But without hope we have no horizon, no place for sunrises or the start of new days.

My life has been opening to hope these last six months, and more light than ever streams through my days.  Yet still I find myself waiting, watching for the next thing that can go wrong.

Is hope ever wrong?  What does false hope actually mean? What is authentic hope? Can authentic hope make me feel truly alive, despite the outcome?  Can I have authentic hope and surrender to whatever outcome arises?

I don’t have the answers yet.  This will be my experiment in the laboratory of life this week.

I offer thanks for the life within me today.  Today, may I be a scientist of my own heart – exploring its many dimensions and reporting my findings to other scientists of the heart.


Leaping into the fire of life

This evening is my last as a 39-year-old.

Quite a strong reminder of death, in many ways.  But right now I am challenging myself to consider another perspective – that this last evening of my fourth decade is a reminder of life.  A reminder of how much I want to live and grow and explore and discover and love and be loved again, despite so much pain and heartbreak.

I make a promise to myself tonight – that as of right now I will leap into the blissful fire of life, with courage in the face of fear.

I will direct deep and abiding love towards myself from here on in, with a simple wish for myself to be happy.

I cannot change the past.  At times, I cannot even begin to understand it.  Tonight, I cast my eyes towards the new horizon and set off in this small coracle made of a walnut shell, with a glimpse of spider’s web for a sail.  On the sea of life, once again, I will sail on waves of love and wonder.

Thank you to those of you who have started following my blog in the first week of its maiden voyage.  I feel so blessed to be able to share the musings of my heart with you.