Woo hoo and the art of falling in

My acupuncturist says my hormones have derailed. Perhaps that's why my life these past few weeks has felt like a runaway train. Having relinquished nearly every reference point that once affirmed who I am and disarmed the control mechanisms that I have used to create a feedback loop of reassurance about my worthiness, I've been in a bit of a free-fall.

I'm in love, and the stakes are high. I'm writing a book, and the stakes are high. I'm trying to radically reinvent how I earn and spend money––and you guessed it; the stakes are high! All of this risky business is teaching me that I can survive––and even thrive––outside my comfort zone. I am beginning to trust on a cellular level what I have believed for many years: that every risk ultimately leads to a gain...no matter where it takes me or how painful the result. I am grateful for Martha Beck's reminder that shouting "Woo hoo!" as we catapult into the unknown can transform terror into receptivity. She writes:

A Jewish friend told me this story: A man asks his rabbi, "Why does God write the law on our hearts? Why not in our hearts? It's the inside of my heart that needs God." The rabbi answered, "God never forces anything into a human heart. He writes the word on our hearts so that when our hearts break, God falls in." Whatever you hold sacred, you'll find that an unguarded broken heart is the ideal instrument for absorbing it.

If you fall into intimacy without resistance, despite your alarm, either you will fall into love, which is exquisite, or love will fall into you, which is more exquisite still. Do it enough, and you may just lose your fear of falling. You'll get better at missing the ground, at keeping a crushed heart open so that love can find all the broken pieces. And the next time you feel that vertiginous sensation of the floor disappearing, even as your reflexes tell you to duck and grab, you'll hear an even deeper instinct saying, "Fall in! Fall in!"

The paradox where fear meets trust is that we have to be willing to fall into heartbreak or any other kind of perceived failure so that we may know and love ourselves and others even more expansively. What if I were to regard each mistake as a little puncture in my armor through which grace might penetrate? What if I were to turn the tattered sails of my flawed and fragile heart into the wind, shout "Woo hoo!" and attune myself to receive and transmit all that falls in?

Comments

[Kristin]

Oh, this is lovely. And that quote - gah! I need to read it every day for a month. Thank you for this wonderful meditation.

[Mari]

As some wise person once said: "Crisis as opening." Yes.

Here's to falling in while woo-hoo-ing!

[Writer Mama]

Very nice reflection. This line is pure poetic medicine:

What if I were to regard each mistake as a little puncture in my armor through which grace might penetrate?