I'm Not the Wall (no, not THAT wall)

An interesting thing is happening as I continue my hour-long meditation in the morning. I'm seeing more and more that my thoughts aren't who I am. Neither is my body, nor my beliefs, nor my accomplishments, nor my failures. My plans, my dreams, my time-sucking activities, those aren't me either. I know this because as I meditate, my head fills up with all that STUFF; it chatters away and goes on and on about all the STUFF. But then there's a part of me that is sitting there, watching the chatter go on, watching the watcher who starts judging the chatter. I can see it all.

So I cannot be IT. You know? I can't be the STUFF. If I was, I couldn't watch it unfold like a movie playing on my own personal Netflix. I mean it feels like I'm watching "All Me All the Time!" but I'm not IT.

Okay, I'm not all that stuff. I'm the space it swirls around inside of, the holder of the stuff. Like, I'm not the stuff in my purse, nor am I my purse, I'm the one holding the purse. I'm not sure if that's a good analogy or not. Here's another way to picture it that I (badly) drew this morning. That's me sitting on a cushion, meditating. Little me (ego) is being scared and I'm telling her that I love her. But even that's not me - I'm the big resonating space of Pure Love holding it all.

That's all really cool but now I'm sitting, watching, and wondering what I'm supposed to do next. Because from this vantage point pretty much all of the activities that I've been filling my time with feel boring and not enough. They're not doing anything for me, they're just literally filling my time.

I want to expand, but it feels like there's this big Wall in front of me. Beyond the Wall I know there are amazing ideas and activities and people and places, ones that will resonate with Who I Really Am. I was journaling about this earlier today and my Inner Voice - you know the one, we all have it - said, "Dissolve the Wall, allow it to dissolve." Because the Wall isn't real, it's just all those stories I have about who I thought I was. I'm not the Wall.

It felt amazing to think that at first, and then my little ego (whom I often picture as 5-year-old me) ran out in front of the Wall, like Katniss volunteering as Tribute, arms outstretched, tears streaming down her face, pleading with me not to touch the Wall! "The Wall is Everything!" she wailed. Little me was totally devastated.

5-year-old me (approx.), not feeling devastated. 

So I did what any loving Soul-Who-Is-Only-And-Always-Love would do - I crouched down to her level and wrapped my arms around her and let her bawl out all the fear she'd been carrying around for 45ish years, fear that she believed the Wall was keeping at bay.

I'm still sitting with that. The Wall is still there as of this writing, although it's fuzzy around the edges and turning ever-so-slightly translucent. I still have no idea what I'm doing next. Allowing myself space to see what shows up sounds like a path I can walk today.