Groundlessness has a dynamic quality to it that can feel exhilarating and freeing, and also thoroughly unsettling (if not terrifying). That liminal space between the inhale and exhale, between balance and falling, between what was and what will be; at the lion’s mouth, standing halfway in and half out.

The perceived need to put ground under our feet feeds the desire to maintain a constant state of okayness… to latch onto what feels secure, dependable, reliable, something to hold onto, something we can control. These reference points give the feeling of having it all together and limiting risks, suspending a false safety net below that will never actually catch us when we fall. No matter how much healing work you have done, no matter how much security you have surrounded yourself with, no matter how much you armor your heart, no matter how much you plan ahead, life will bring you down to your knees, again and again, in the wide open space of uncertainty.

There is deep medicine in this groundless space – free of story-lines and conceptual ideas, free of any rules of engagement, nestled somewhere between the question and the answer. Our inherent nature is forever shifting, changing, pulsing, expanding and contracting; it does not walk along linear pathways, but rather dances in an endless spiral, weaving through pleasure and pain, light and dark, death and new life, shifting, evolving, and growing. Trying to resist against these currents requires an exhausting amount of energy that will ultimately result in an addiction to suffering, keeping us feeling fearful, small and separate from the natural cycles and rhythms that teach us how to come together and fall apart over and over.

Can you let yourself continuously unravel, a big beautiful mess, as you let yourself die little deaths again and again? Bowing down, forehead to floor at the feet of uncertainty, offering your fear and confusion in exchange for the exquisite weightlessness of not knowing. Allow your gaze to shift away from scanning the horizon for markers and yellow brick roads and shift towards the compass of your own heart.

Slow down.

Soften.

Invite grace and gentleness into the fabrics of your being.

Trust that you only need to take the next step that is right in front of you. Let love and grief completely saturate and tenderize you, over and over again. There are countless endings and endless beginnings, and each demand an unclenching of the fists, relaxing of the jaw, deep breaths, and a letting go. Let yourself die, let the old skin shed away, and stretch wide into what is born. No amount of armor or preparation or planning will change what this excruciatingly beautiful life asks of us, we are not in control and there is no final destination. It can be painful, yes, but can you feel gratitude for the ability to feel your pain body so deeply? Let your vast expression of love flow through you, fearlessly, vulnerably, and without attachment to whether or not it is received. Who knows how long any of us have to live from our own fully embodied expression of who we are, exactly as we are, at any moment. Live the questions, not to find answers, but to sink more deeply into the raw truth and wild and terrifying openness that comes when you are fully present with what is.