Sunlight (Letters from Love)
Since I first posted about Liz Gilbert’s Letters from Love project back in March, I’ve written at least half a dozen entries in my journal, asking Love to share some of her infinite wisdom with me. The experience of letting this divine insight flow through my body, to my hands, to my pen, to the page, is both beautiful and mysterious, every single time. The scientific, logical side of me knows that I’m the one thinking the thoughts and writing the words. But the ethereal, spiritual side of me isn’t quite sure it’s all that concrete. Over the years, I’ve come to believe that it really is possible to channel some otherworldly voice into your heart and mind. Some deeper knowing that we’re taught to suppress because it’s “weird,” or doesn’t conform to societal norms.
I’ve been having a really hard time meditating for the last six months, which is usually where I’m able to access this voice the most clearly. I think She’s sensed that I’ve needed another way in, and so, my Letters from Love practice has become that doorway.
This is the first journal entry I’m sharing on my blog, as it feels like the least scary place to start. And besides, like I mentioned in my last Letters post, some relationship stories are just meant to be kept secret.
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May 5, 2024. Written in the Delta SkyClub at Laguardia Airport in NYC.
Dear Love,
What would you have me know about this new adventure I’m about to start? About the one I’m getting ready to end? And about this liminal space I’m occupying in-between? - Amy
//
Dear Aims,
I know I’m not the first to say Congratulations, but I hope that maybe you’ll let yourself really feel this one. I hope that you will let yourself feel anything, really. And everything, too, for that matter. You have earned a Doctorate in Keeping-it-All-Buttoned-Up over this past year, even though some people like to tell you otherwise.
But here’s the difference, my child, between your inner and outer worlds.
Speaking your truth isn’t the same as FEELING your truth.
Can I say that one more time, for the parts of you that want to skip this paragraph?
Speaking your truth is not the same as feeling your truth.
You have found your voice and your confidence to say things out loud that others may not want to hear. But have you stopped to notice what that feels like on the inside? So many of your words and actions are in pursuit of a greater good, that you forget that you, yourself, are your GREATEST good.
In all of this whirlwind of the last two weeks, have you taken any time to sit and appreciate yourself? To notice what it feels like to have untied the laces of the corset you’ve been wearing? To breathe for yourself, instead of holding that breath for the next strategic move?
You know the answer as well as I do, my dear.
So tell me: what’s stopping you from letting it all go? From releasing everything that’s been bound so tightly, and allowing yourself to sit in this open, beautiful expanse that—mind you—YOU created?
You got yourself here. You have been the planner, the architect, the contractor, the designer. You have sourced the raw materials and polished them into gold. This is your house to enjoy now. Or, rather, maybe I misspoke. This is bigger than four walls. This is your wide open space, filled with marigolds and tulips. Butterflies and wandering streams. Every inch of it is your creation.
I know it feels like a project that’s never done. Like you can’t put down the pencil or else every carefully crafted line of graphite will be erased by someone else’s careless hand. But here’s what I want you to know, my love. Here is my wish for you:
Figure out how to put the pencil down, at least for the next five weeks, to actually be present with the beauty in the space you’ve created.
This time is a gift, and it’s not going to be here forever. But the joy and pleasure and and understanding and presence you experience will stay with you long after you’re on to the next-big-thing. If, that is, you can allow yourself to breathe them in.
June isn’t going anywhere. The calendar pages are going to continue to flip, one by one, whether you fill them with anxiety and logic, or with sunlight and love. I hope you choose sunlight, dear one. As for Love, I have already chosen YOU. And I’m not going anywhere, either.
With love,
Love