At times I have butterflies in my stomach as life turns into a sort of spinning tire-swing experience. Pivoting and reeling until everything on the outside is blurred and threatens to expel everything on the inside- the eye of the storm. Willingly, I would hope it would be the time to surrender all my have-nots, what- nots, cannots and want-nots. Even the knots that tighten my heart gripping me like a noose. Purging all the frayed edges of my character and curing them, bidding them to be steadfast. It is in the curing (purifying) process one feels the burn, the melting of dreams and expectations, necessary to 'come out on top'.
Wrestling, I feel at times like I am on the end of a pendulum in its deepest pull against gravity. My emotions fall in the room, can by cut by a knife, leaving hints of rope burn in their wake. Often I try to zip through my feelings like on a ropes course and yet find I am ill trained. Taking the high leaps before I am ready. It shatters my confidence. It is better to wait and even ask for a 'spotter' before engaging such monstrous endeavours. Better not to put the cart before the horse.
Exploring my heart like a figure eight, I notice the walls, the caverns, the deepest parts, the facets that have shaped who I am today. Each experience like a helpful knot, when pursuing the challenge of climbing a rope, giving leverage to reach higher ground. To conquer the lows and become victorious. Perhaps one really should take a knot tying course- questing for role models and vantage points that encourage the moving up, the moving forward journey of life. Providing better footing for the climb. Engaging the legs and other body parts to aid in the battle- instead of surrendering it to a singular set of muscle groups. Making use of mind and body to stop the waves of failure that threaten to capsize us.
One thing I know I need in my tool box of coping is a three strand chord. One without frayed edges and can take the force of my ups and downs as I rollercoaster to the finish line. Exchanging my areas of weakness, where my climbing rope has gone slack, and replacing it with taughtness- succinct knowledge and the purest wisdom of navigation. Directing my internal compass True North and instructing me where I need the help of a safety net. Revealing to me the best 'spotter' of all- God. The best climbing companion of all, who cheers us on, even when we are tempted to place Him on the sidelines. At least then, when the pedulum swings, I know it is He who holds me.
