Let it disintegrate
A couple thoughts on letting it all fall apart. Again.
I sit by a sparkling creek that runs by the library at my town’s university campus. It’s late June and the only footsteps down the path seem to be construction worker and summer athletes. To my left, tall trees stretch to the sky. To my right, sun filters through leaves fluttering in the light Monday morning breeze.
My crossed legs perch under me on a comfy couch in front of a two story tall glass window. Straight ahead, the water weaves around rocks of all sizes. It never stops. It doesn’t second guess its’ course. It just keeps flowing. Moving. Dancing. Participating.
A few leaves float along without a care in the world. Zero resistance. Releasing. Journeying. Enjoying.
I lean against my neighborhood tree, full of inner chaos. Thoughts, emotions, and fears stumble over each other to hold court in my mind. OCD’s intrusive thoughts join the fray and rituals roll out the red carpet.
I try sorting the jumbled mess, but it’s louder and more complicated than I can keep up with.
I let my head roll back to rest on the tree trunk and gaze upward. The trees whisper, “Let it all fall apart. Let it disintegrate. You can’t get new without death.”
My soul smiles.
Yes. I’m arguing with something that’s trying to release. I’m desperately trying to hold together what is begging to fall apart.
“You don’t need to control it all. You can’t control disintegration. It’s messy. It hurts. Of course it does. It’s a death. There’s grief. Don’t fight it. Make space for it. Welcome it in. Gently smile when you see it. Yes, it will hurt. Hold it reverently. Companion pain and give it a dignified death.”
The breeze continues on, “Only then will there be spaciousness to welcome a new way.”
Disintegration is the process of losing cohesion or strength. The process of coming to pieces.
Problem is — our survival and safety is usually built on those pieces staying together. That’s what our nervous systems know. All those brilliant neural pathways are tightly woven in certain directions they’ve long memorized. It’s no simple task to willingly disintegrate. To gently nod our participation in the undoing of our own safety.
And yet.
It is the ever-present invitation of deeper wisdom. Of Spirit. Of God. Of Love. Whatever you name it, the unraveling seems to be the same.
There’s so much life beyond our tightly raveled current chapter of integration. We’re being invited to disintegrate. Again.
And no matter how hard we try, we can’t get to the new integration without the disintegration.
So we breathe deeply of this moment in all its’ complexity.
We take one step closer to what hurts.
We choose compassion for whatever is asking to be released.
We feel it.
We breathe again.
Soul Practice
The next time you’re on your way somewhere, pause for 60 seconds and look at something in nature. Maybe it’s a leaf, a tree, flowing water, a cloud, a bird or squirrel. If you can, move your eyes slowly as you do.
It’s a beautiful but small way to bring some safety to a frazzled or numb nervous system. It brings us back into our bodies when it’s surprisingly easy to spend a lot of time in our busy minds.
Books
Sharing
Know someone who is navigating a season of disintegration? Consider sharing this with them. We could all use some extra love!
The Thread
The Thread is a weekly-ish newsletter where we untangle the stories that make us who we are so we can show up to our lives with spacious presence, brave honesty, radical love & wild curiosity.
-sigh-
Such a good reminder about letting go....I appreciate the suggestions for soul practice.