Coming to you I pass through the eye of the needle.
In spite of myself I don't get to choose what to bring with me and what
to leave behind. All the stuff I want to bring with me to show you, to
ask you about won't fit through this tiny eye. To get to you I have to
leave all my stuff behind. There's no room for any of it to pass. So I
bring nothing with me. Nothing is the gift I bring you.
When I come through like this there's no struggling. Frustration melts
and stress abates. A divine calmness and serenity wrap me in velvety
rich, gorgeous arms of lovingkindness. Where's the scoreboard of my
accomplishing now? Where's the tally of my successes and my wins now?
Whatever became of they who judged my ways? None of them, not
one of them made it through to here. They're not in this
place. They're left behind, too occupied getting somewhere to pass
through this tiny eye with me to you.
But ... all... I ... want ... is You (I told you
so). So here I am. Naked ... by ... my ... Self
... I stand unafraid and full. This is where I show up: here, now,
being alone together again You and I. Being all one
together again.
All I got my entire god-damned life is what's possible
with you, what happens with you. Though it's already happened before,
what's already happened is past. That's remarkable, actually - totally
awesome. Though there's more of you in my life than there is of
anything else, each time I come to you it's like I've never been
here before. Each time I come to you it's new, fresh. And look!
There's that "anything's possible" again ...
There's nothing else I know quite like this. There's no
one else I know quite like you who only shows up
as a future. Everything else I know and everyone else I know was
yesterday or is now. But you're the possibility of tomorrow.
That's disconcerting. That's seductive. That's alluring and wide open,
gaping wide open, and grounding all at once.
I'm a compass. You're north. I'm beside myself with anticipation to
true with You again.