All of the Above
There’s a time and a place for everything. Because everything is allowed.
“There’s a time to sit in the mess, and there’s a time to clean the mess.”
When I wrote these words, I was sitting on our living room couch, sipping a mug of hot cacao, considering what had taken place moments earlier.
Noticing the room where I sat, I took it all in — the state of my surroundings and my relationship with it, my inner state of being.
The room was quite frankly a mess.
Shoes, blankets, and pillows tossed about.
Little patches of dried mud clusters and bits of ragged leathery pieces of our deteriorating footrest garnishing the straw area rug and wood floors around it.
Incense and Palo Santo ash piled up atop the bookcase, friended by a couple of months worth of accumulated dust.
Oh, and how could I forget the floating webs spun by our ambitious and ever-persistent roommates (we don’t kill bugs, but then the spiders tend to take care of most of them anyway…)
Like I said, the room was a mess.
Normally I like to pick up, remove any clutter, vacuum, dust, lay out the blankets and pillows just so, prepare the space before I sit for a sola cacao ceremony.
I feel that doing this inspires me to be more focused.
There’s less distraction and a sort of clean and clear energy.
There’s definitely something to that, giving that kind of attention and special care to preparing a space in order to encourage better concentration.
But rewinding now to the moment when I woke up and came out into the kitchen with the intention to sit in a private ceremony that morning…
Before reaching into the pantry to grab the bag of Mexican cacao blocks my sweet friend Kait gifted me, I peeked into the living room.
Sigh. It’s gonna take a minute to clean all of this up before I can sit, enjoy my chocolate, and reflect.
“Cleanliness is next to Godliness,” is the phrase that echoed in my mind, spoken by the aspect of myself which sees life through that particular lens.
That same aspect of myself that believes that any mess or clutter interferes with the ceremony.
That it’s not only unpleasant or undesirable, but it’s also sort of, bad.
This aspect of my being judges the mess and wants to change it.
Make it better.
I value this part of myself.
It may be flawed, but nonetheless, it’s perfect in its essence and intentions.
It’s the part of me that’s responsible for getting me out of Venice and off drugs.
It’s the part of me that understands how things got the way that they did, and then takes personal responsibility for them.
It’s the part of me that knows that if I so choose, I can “clean up the mess,” so to speak, and improve conditions.
Make more room for focus and clarity, get organized, take care, and give special attention to the state of my living condition.
Create a space for myself where I can feel at peace.
I deeply love, cherish and appreciate this aspect of my being.
That morning, it was this part of myself that looked around the living room and saw a mess.
The room was very lived-in, and I wanted to clean it up before I began.
But then, I decided not to.
I proceeded to mince a chunk of cacao into a gritty powder, scoop it into a mug, add some nearly boiling water, a few dashes of cinnamon, and a sprinkle of cayenne and entered the room to sit.
In the mess.
Palms hugging the warm mug pressed against my chest, I closed my eyes.
Inhaling the sweet vapors from the cacao and cinnamon, I prayed to be shown what I was ready to see, and be taken where I was ready to go — the way I begin any ceremony.
And when I opened up my eyes, I saw the room.
Suddenly, I appreciated how lived in it was.
There were signs of life everywhere, scattered all around, surrounding me.
Embracing me.
And I sat smack dab in the middle of it all.
Silent and smiling.
At peace.
IN THAT EXACT MOMENT, A TEACHING THAT I’D BEEN OFFERED MANY TIMES BEFORE FINALLY CLICKED: JOY AND PEACE ARE INNER STATES OF BEING THAT CANNOT BE INFLUENCED BY EXTERNAL FACTORS.
The energy of radical acceptance poured through me.
My rational mind knew that I’d clean up the room in due time but for now, I would just be a part of it all.
Not separate from, or better than “the mess.”
Just a quiet, loving observer within it.
I noticed its previously obscure beauty.
Discerning the spattering of extra-large shoes kicked about — which at first felt to be an annoyance — reveal themselves to me as a reminder of the presence of my relationship, which I feel deeply grateful for every single day.
And there I simply sat, sipping warm, earthy chocolate.
Seeing my reflection in the state of the room.
Viewing life, lived.
Feeling content with my place in it.
AROUND EVERY CORNER, I DISCOVER THAT THERE LAYS AN INVITATION TO MORE DEEPLY UNDERSTAND THAT PEACE CAN BE FOUND IN THE HEART OF COMPLETE AND UTTER ALLOWANCE.
THIS COMPLETE AND UTTER ALLOWANCE CLEARS A PATH FOR SELF-LOVE.
AND THIS GENUINE SENSE OF SELF-LOVE RECOGNIZES THAT WE ALWAYS HAVE THE ABILITY TO IMPROVE OUR CONDITIONS SHOULD WE SO CHOOSE TO.
Sometimes we need to just be with the chaos and disorder within us|around us.
To just be with the messiness doesn’t mean that we give up, or stop making an effort to improve ourselves or our situation.
It’s a practice of making room for everyone and everything.
It’s a practice of letting go of impossible standards and allowing humanity to express itself in any and all ways — especially the unpleasant or painful expressions, as those tend to be the types we have a natural resistance towards.
It’s cultivating a practice of allowing.
An inevitable side effect of allowance is the minimization of stress and suffering in one’s life.
And then at a point, there comes a time to address it.
And each of us will approach any circumstance in need of tailoring in our own way.
But that morning when I sat in the mess, I realized that there’s a time and a place for everything.
That everything is allowed, if I allow it.
My state of inner peace has nothing to do with my surroundings.
Do I prefer a clean house?
Absolutely!
But I get to choose how I respond to life.
And sometimes we need to sit in a mess so we can truly appreciate the order.
And sometimes, we realize that the mess isn’t actually a mess at all, but rather a simple scene of life in magnificent motion.
With love,
Rachel
JOURNAL PROMPTS
When you find yourself in a situation that’s not ideal, how do you respond to it?
Is there a part of you that resists it because it’s the opposite of how you’d like it to be?
And if so, are you able to find space within yourself for allowance of not only the resistance that you feel, but an allowance of the thing in resistance?
In what ways can you cultivate more allowance in your life, and how do you see yourself benefiting from this shift in perspective?