Softly, slowly entering the world. I awaken before everyone else and quietly go downstairs. I grab my mat and move out to deck. Breathe. Listen. Feel.
Mid-yoga routine, my daughter comes down and talks to me. I smile at her desire to have me be her first connection of the day. We talk through the screen door as I struggle with half-moon pose: ankle wobbling, thigh aching, torso twisting. I feel the fear in my body as I try to coax it into a this “new” position, fear that my body wants to both release and cling to. My daughter starts to play with her legos as I focus on moving through my new morning yoga positions. I breathe in her quiet play and the babbling creek and the gentle breeze.
Focusing back on my body, on my breath, on me. I breathe in the word “softness” and breath out “release fear.” These words are setting my tone for the day. These words bring a smile to my face as I feel my body embrace them.
Moving to the other side, my next half moon is less strained. I am able to find balance for a few brief seconds. I breathe in the softness of my body, the softness of my heart. A smile comes to my lips and jaw. Yes.
The day moves forward and I’m finding how soft I am, how gentle feels. I wear my softest shirt. My softest capri leggings. As I am breathing in the idea of how soft feels, what soft wears I remember the necklace my grandma gave me before she died. The one in the soft fabric case with the typed love note from her. Four doves together, their wings forming a diamond. On the back the words Peace on Earth. It is time to wear it. I go and get it and put it on.
I usually wear multiple necklaces at once. Today is different. Nothing else looks or feels right around my neck. I find a way to attach my wedding band to the necklace. Perfect. I deliberate over earrings and settle on a pair. I debate whether to wear a bracelet today and decide not to. Less ornaments today, feeling lighter and softer.
I find myself being so gentle with my daughter and my niece. I find myself not feeling rushed, even though we are behind schedule. I engage the kids in helping us get out the door. Calm. Peace. Soft.
The day continues you like this for the most part. Minor blibs try to shift me off this course to softness: my energized child touching every.single.thing. in the antique store; a parking ticket. I find myself breathing and reminding myself of the word I want to embody, the word I want to feel, the word I want to express, the word I want to be. The softness comes back and we move on.
I visioned what Softness looks like to me the night before. Gentle images came forward from the magazines as well as gentle phrases. Inner reflection. Sweet Forgiveness. Divine Expression. Infinite possibilities. Feel crazy good softness.
And this quote:
As we find the strength to surrender, even the hardened places within us can give way to tender buds of compassion.
The hardened places. So many of those inside my body, inside my heart. Delving into the softening, the opening, the releasing. Letting the hurt and fear that keeps those spots hard go. Forgiving myself and others. Seeking out the infinite ways to bring softness, compassion, into my life.
I’m dipping into this softness. I’m exploring how it feels, how it works, what it eats and wears, what it says and how it responds to life’s frustrations and joys. As I explore my body lets me know I need to release some things to make room for the softness. I need to release the hardness. I need to forgive. I need to find compassion for those who helped create those hard places within me.
I thank my body for the reminder. To release. To make space. To open. Slowly the pain that has been sitting in my scapula starts to fade. I listen. I send love. I create space. I allow the hardness to melt into softness.
Shifting. Releasing. Melting. Transforming.
Embodying softness for now, allowing it to become a part of me. Giving myself the space and time to breathe in the transformation, to appreciate it. Knowing the time is right for this shift. Allowing the beauty of this growth. Smiling, knowing the battles fought to be in this place. Quietly rebelling against of the old way of doing things, of being, the inner critics and fears. Rebelling by entering into softness.