Expand, not contract

This came to me during a meditation a few weeks back, and it’s felt right as I’ve continued to move through life. (Or, as I’ve let life move through me? Have you heard that concept before, that we’re the universe experiencing being human? Or, we are the universe experiencing itself? I think Neil deGrasse Tyson said it…)

It’s this idea, this awareness, of how when something new arises, a change, we—humans, animals, all of us—have the natural reaction to contract. To hide, to go inward, to shy away from. It’s a form of a protection. It’s also a form of rejection, I think. Of rejection of something that may be a wonderful thing. Different can mean scary, but not bad. It can be good scary. Exciting. (My friend and I started to say “excitey.”)

I’ve heard this concept referenced often in money consciousness, too. Rather than saying, for example, I want to do this (a trip, a career change, a move), so I need to save money, it’s instead about opening up to attracting in more. Creating space to welcome in the resources and opportunities, an act of trust.

So, I remind myself. Be aware of where and when you contract, maybe explore why. Gently, curiously. Consider, instead expanding into it. Even consider considering a different initial reaction is expansion in itself.

May we continue to expand, to ripple, to “flow… in ever widening rings of being,” like Rumi says.

Expand, not contract. Abundance, and not lack.

"Flow down and down in always widening rings of being"

I think of this Rumi quote often, this one line, the closing line, from one of his most known poems, A Community of the Spirit, as translated by Coleman Barks. I found this post, this quote, in my drafts, and in the spirit of surrender and ease, 10:10pm on a Thursday evening, felt it as resonant as ever, and the moment to share.

"Flow down and down in always widening rings of being.”

This line comes—flows—to me often, and continues to encourage me release to live life in a flow state, and to let live. To release, to become, bigger, wider, more open, freer. Let go, let flow.

The full poem:

There is a community of the spirit.

Join it, and feel the delight

of walking in the noisy street

and being the noise.

Drink all your passion,

and be a disgrace.

Close both eyes

to see with the other eye.

Open your hands,

if you want to be held.

Sit down in the circle.

Quit acting like a wolf, and feel

the shepherd’s love filling you.

At night, your beloved wanders.

Don’t accept consolations.

Close your mouth against food.

Taste the lover’s mouth in yours.

You moan, “She left me.” “He left me.”

Twenty more will come.

Be empty of worrying.

Think of who created thought!

Why do you stay in prison

when the door is so wide open?

Move outside the tangle of fear-thinking.

Live in silence.

Flow down and down in always

widening rings of being.

There is a gift in everything

I woke up early today (though, and, it’s all relative); earlier than I would have expected, earlier than was my preference. The gift in it is: a slower morning. Time to write this. Time to do my morning journaling with more presence. The opportunity to read some Rumi, and perhaps to finish packing before my Chicago trip tomorrow.

There is a gift in this, and there is a gift in everything. Today, the gift was evident early. Sometimes it takes time to be known; sometimes it’s a surprise. Other times, I’ve found the biggest gifts only when I look back and take time to reflect.

With gifts, too, it’s about accepting them, with gratitude and an open heart, rather than expecting them. It may not be what we wanted, but it always ends up being what we needed.