Be set free from expectations

You've come all this way, and you've done all this work, and you've journeyed and travelled and continued, and you've shown up and done what you've had to do...

And you've enjoyed some of it, a lot of it, even.

There's been beauty and wonder tucked in and around the hard work of being alive in the world, this world that is glorious and terrifying all at the same time, and it shows beautifully on your skin and your heart and the pages of your journal, just what it has taken to get yourself here. 

And now that you are?

You open your eyes and realise that even though you've done all this work and climbed all those mountains and made all those decisions and as beautiful and horrific as it all has been, you still haven't arrived... no.

You open your eyes and heart to see that yet again; you're facing another fork in the road.

Your eyes shut again, hidden in the safety of darkness, maybe a frustrated tear escapes its ducts and spills down your skin.

Again? You think.
More? You stammer.
Haven't I done enough? You ask. 

The endless decisions and choices and questions that life demands you answer, that people and situations and money and vocations and teachers and leaders and family and friends and children and partners want from you, and all the certain ways and words and things and beliefs you feel pulled and pushed into it - you're not sure which way to go or even if you can keep on going at all. 

Here in this place, at this moment, keep your eyes closed and breathe.

Breathe deep beneath the layers of all the choices and voices down into the wide-open space of your inner garden.

Let the safety and the stillness of this place take control of the atmosphere.

Allow the fatigue of decisions and choices and cognitive load wash through you. Let it have its moment.

It's safe here for it to move its way out of you. Grace is here so let it flow through you... and as it does, maybe what you need to do right now is…

Dance. 

What? 

I said maybe you need to dance.

Because when the Psalmist said: be still and I know that I am God; they weren't talking about being physically still, unmoving, statuesque.

There's a stillness within, a spaciousness of grace, that both grounds and carries you when everything seems chaotic and hurried. It's the peace that doesn't make sense - the one that Paul talked about - the peace that you can find even when nothing seems peaceful at all. 

And in this spacious place of grace, when the world and life and everyone in it, even your own needs and dreams and vision, need you and want you to make a move, begin by moving your heart and body and spirit to the beat of a different rhythm.

Set the pace on your own terms.

Let the movement begin from that deep place within and dance at this fork in the road.

Open your body and your heart to the wild and holy ways of love as it flows in and through you. And with your movement, with your hands and feet and arms and legs and chest and hips, with your whole body and heart, re-write the narrative of places such as these.

Surrender to the Divine music of heaven on earth, heaven here in your life, in your body, in your heart and in your hands.

Surrender the ideas of who you're meant to be, and the pressure to do and become.

Set yourself free at this fork in the road.

You will not sink into depravity or toxic selfishness when you embrace that wide open grace deep within your soul... The opposite is true: you will expand and increase and empower yourself to make holistic and healing and productive choices of connection and grace.

And as you dance, feel the burden shift, and the ease come, and when you open your eyes, step confidently in the direction your heart is telling you to go. 

Mindful Prompt: When facing a fork in the road, open your body and heart to the wild and holy ways of love as it flows in and through you... and maybe you should dance, move your body to the beat of a different rhythm. Re-write the narrative of places such as these.  

Continued in the upcoming series "When Facing a Fork in the Road", this week with a subscription in the App.

Written by Liz Milani.
Instagram: @thepracticeco