Discomfort has a way of reminding us

I am regularly in thought about the essence life, of my life. When I say essence, this isn’t to be confused with the fabric of my being, but rather being itself and what that looks like when manifested in form. Great questions, such as Who am I? What am I offering? arise with as natural an ease as breathing itself. I can get lost there in the questions as if knowing is somewhere outside of me or beyond my ability to encounter. This isn’t true. Purpose reveals itself in the pauses. It is not busy moving about as if a task to be done or a goal to be accomplished. It is content in the stillness, in the isness of the All.

When I am there lost in the somewhere of the questions watching as time passes me by again and again; days becoming weeks, and weeks becoming months, and birthdays aging me forward, I notice discomfort. I start to feel off, no longer calibrated with Oneness, no longer in active alignment with what I know to be true. This discomfort brings me back to myself, back to the practice of pausing.

I am resting these days in the stillness of the pause. I have returned to sitting at my altar and communing with all that is greater than me, yet rests nestled within me. I feel the presence of Light. I breathe in the truth that no-thing exists outside of me, and that I need only to pause long enough to turn within. This is the gift of discomfort: It reminds me of contrast. It points me back to the deepest part of myself, that place of remembering what it means to Know.