A few seasons ago I was in New York City, in Chealsea, at a perfect apartment lent to me for the weekend by a heartfriend of a heartfriend of a heartfriend. I was trusted with keys and abundance, so hooked up by the universe.
I met my life classmate Liza on the high line where we both walked with ghosts past. I hadn’t been there in five and a half years since I re-dated my first girlfriend again as a twenty-two year old, after not talking to her since we dated as fifteen year olds.
Later that night I wrote in my journal:
Thank you God for all of the lives that have brought me to this life. Thank you for the tools, the compassion, the presence, the practice. I love life. I love being me right now. I feel loved, seen, nourished, safe. It’s possible.
It’s possible to be in hell. It’s possible to be in heaven. It’s possible to be in realms between. The distance is just that. Distance. A bridge. A bridge of vibration between what’s desired and and where we are now.
Fear is that fast vibration when we don’t know how we’ll get from point A to point B. Over and over, the elasticity of change will bring us across that vibrating bridge of fear to the safe refuge of our answered prayers.
I remember crying on the floor during a session with Sophia Wise One when she first explained to me that fear is a bridge. After nearly two years out of touch with a big ex, I’d just seen them riding down Market Street on a bicycle an hour before. My grief blossomed as I felt another wave of myself moving on post-breakup.
In a wavering voice I announced that one day, but not that day, I was looking forward to being in a radical, monogamous, spiritual partnership, greater than anything I’d ever experienced before, and that I didn’t have a clue how that was going to happen, and that I was feeling fucking terrified about everything that needed to change before arriving at that new level of the video game.
“Fear is a bridge between where you are and where you want to be,” Sophia said. “And when you’re vibrating really fast, make sure you give yourself way more space so you don’t bump into anything else.”
What was also true in that moment, and many moments where I feel the vibration of fear literally rocking my body, is that I was feeling excitement camouflaged by confusion, i.e. how am I getting across to the other side of this f*$%ing bridge where the next, obviously gorgeous chapter of my life exists.
In my experience, crossing these bridges takes extra space, like Sophia suggests, plus presence, devotion, and surrender to the fact that the only way around, is through.
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