Take Up Your Space

I watched, paralyzed as others entered the labyrinth.
Some rang the bell confidently, loudly announcing their entrance.
But eventually, when I rang, I rang it softly, timidly taking small steps forward.

I knew how I needed to travel this maze,
Wanting desperately to follow the small voice whispering,
"Take up your space."

"You can't do that," the more familiar voice bellowed.
"You would prevent the other travelers from their journeys.
You would inconvenience everyone."

But the small voice insisted,
"You have the right to be here.
You have the right to feel."

So, as I silently entered the labyrinth,
I bypassed all the "rules."
I cut with increasing grace straight to the center.

Sitting down in the very center, the loud voice attempted to shame me,
But as I invited it to join me, it grew quieter and quieter.
I could feel the sunshine on my skin and hear the birds...
As I finally gave myself the long-craved permission to sit with myself.

My eyes flew open as I sensed and heard someone coming close to me.
The loud voice blasted, "See! You are in the way."
To my surprise, my dear friend joined me and seated herself facing me.

She mimicked me with her own hands in a receptive position and gently closed her eyes.
We two sat together in the center of the labyrinth
While others traveled circles around us.

Some traveled slowly, nearly undetectable
Yet other's feet pounded the cement.
But there we two sat in stillness, sitting with ourselves.

In that moment it hit me how my body was speaking to me.
I had continued to wander the labyrinth of life
When all I wanted to really do was sit with myself.
The tears that had been kept at bay were finally surfacing.

In that realization, I knew I wanted to curl up into child's pose.
As I was settling into my new pose, my friend let out a quiet laugh.
She had opened her eyes in order to place herself in the exact same position.

Pressing into the ground, allowing it to hold us,
We mirrored each other. My head near her tail and her tail near my head.
Totally uncoreographed, yet perfectly in-sink.

I noticed her silent sobs.
Innately, I firmly placed my hand in the center of her back.
I felt her pain. I felt her cries. I breathed with her.

As I witnessed her monsters,
I invited my own to come out from hiding.
As I began to cry,
I felt her reassuring hand on my back, too.

We cried.
We breathed.

And I thought of a wise friend who once shared
How hard we try to keep our monsters in the cellar.
The energy we waste trying to keep them hidden...
When we should actually invite them to join us at the hearth.

I had invited my monsters to tea
As I took up my space in the center of the labyrinth.
I sat with myself rather than giving way to the guilt of
What I "should" be doing instead.

Slowly, slowly, the monsters began to fade.
My tears slowed.
My breath steadied.

And I knew when it was time
To plant my feet firmly on the ground again
And leave the labyrinth.

I chose to follow all the "rules"
On my way back out.
I didn't take any short-cuts.

I didn't have to.
I had witnessed my own pain
And had learned how to take up my own space.