Sometimes I have lived my life as though I was tightly holding on to all my precious things. I did not want to lose them, did not want them to be harmed. There have always been things that I held dear, keeping them safe in tight bundles close inside my heart.
I am beginning to learn the joy of abandonment. My life is full of dear and precious things, but I hold them more with a open hand than a clenched and protecting grip. Nothing feels more precious to me than my own heart, and now I allow it full freedom to be carried away like fleeting seeds dancing in gentle winds.
What comes my way, I try to give myself completely to it. The infinite joy of free-fall has infected my heart, and I abandon myself to it routinely. The freedom of neither grasping to possess or shielding to avoid pain has slowly taken me into a world I did not know existed. It is a place of abandonment.
I have had to abandon so many notions to feel this great undefined presence. The fearful void of emptiness is now a beckoning haven, an embracing wholeness that is without bounds.
To enter this realm, I remove all that seems to impede and limit me. I not only leave my shoes at the door, but all that falsely clothes me is left there as well. To experience wholesome abandonment, I am entering the deep well without a bucket, giving myself wholly to it, not attempting to contain it.
I am immersed in the full swirling spring of energy and desire without any attempt to hold or contain it. I am abandoning myself to the flowing stream of my life. I am amazed where it takes me each day.