Last night, while talking with a good friend, I noticed that every time she talked about her body, or about her past, she get kind of embarrassed, and smaller. Her eyes changed. She would retreat into her “limited” self, walking backwards, like a crab returning to a familiar lair.
“Don’t worry,” I heard myself saying to her. “You will never be kicked out of the pool again.”
What I meant was, “Rest with your Big, Glorious Self, in this beautiful swimming pool. Rest in this big sack of LOVE, where you’re loved always, eternally, unconditionally. This has nothing to do with your body, or your story, or your past. It’s your soul that gets to stay in the pool.
“Don’t let your mind talk you out of it.”
And I could see how, in my own life also, there would often be a sort of lifeguard that showed up (in the guise of different people). He would suddenly be there, blowing his whistle, telling me to get out of the pool, saying that I didn’t deserve to be there, that the pool somehow belonged to others. There were always pretty good reasons: you’re not busy enough, famous enough, rich enough. Sometimes 4 or 5 of them showed up, screaming and insisting together. More often than not, I would get up and get out of the pool, chastised and embarrassed.
But last night, something changed. I ignored the lifeguards. I called their bluff. I watched as they turned blue in the face, then, one by one, skulked back to their chairs. Yes, my friends, it was official:
We weren’t getting kicked out of the pool anymore.
Joy Biscuits 