An Experiment in Contentment

What If?

By Jena Strong

What if you knew
that everything was going to be okay,
that something was in motion
beyond your field of vision,
beyond even the periphery
of your knowing?

What if you knew
that everything you want,
everything you’ve been seeking,
trying to figure out, missing,
is right here, already whole
in your hands, in your life?

What if taking in what is
could satisfy your longing?
What if you could rest your frantic, racing, busy mind
and rest your neglected, tired body,
put your head down in someone’s lap
to have your hair stroked,
like a cat, or a child?

What if you didn’t need to understand
how it works,
but could enjoy the magic
of how love shows itself
in the most unexpected, simplest of gestures?
What if everything is just as it should be?

What if nothing had to be better,
bigger, different, or other?
What would you do then?
Who would you be?

  Contentment has been at the forefront of my consciousness lately. It's a quality that I've longed for both consciously and subconsciously for the better part of my life.  Three unrelated 'events' in the past two weeks have really put it front and center for me:

First: Two weeks ago, my teacher and dear friend Regina asked me what would happen if I just stopped
          struggling against what is in my life.
Second:  Last week, thanks to Shawn Leddington Fink at Awesomely Awake, I came across the poem
              posted above.

Third: Yesterday, my friend Karolyn, deep thinker and community organizer extraordinaire, who I haven't
          seen in about a month, happened to email me and several other people an invitation to her house on  
          the  New Moon to discuss.....you guessed it:  contentment and balancing will and surrender.

Surrounded by these 'signs', I have no choice but to dive right in.

Who would I be if I became the person in this poem?  I wouldn't be looking to have a life like anyone else's. I wouldn't be trying to plan out my every move like a chess game.  I wouldn't be spinning out anxious stories that become so dense that they cover up the light spaciousness of the present moment.  I wouldn't be striving to become anything different or better.  Not that I wouldn't have goals, but I think I would be more open to opportunity.  More open to going with the flow and allowing things to unfold.  More full of faith that everything will work out.  I have spent so much of my life focused on achievement and figuring out 'what to be when I grow up'.  I have also spent a lot of time and energy doing things because of this underlying feeling of unease or a sense that I am not enough.  I will get these big bursts of energy and pick something to start...like a quilt, or writing a book, or planning a trip, only to find that I've burned myself out in the process because I've become so hyper-focused. I have a lot of unfinished projects.   You would not believe the number of half-finished scarves are balled up in the back of my closet.  Or how many seasons my garden has become a garden of weeds.  Or how many canvases full of partial paintings I have.  Or how many races I have begun training for.   Geeze, just listing them makes me feel like a bit of a failure.  But, I am being gentle with myself, so I see that I am not a failure.  I am just a work in progress.  Right?  On the other hand, sometimes I spend all of this time planning what I will do and so I never end up doing anything.  What would happen if I just sat with the energy?  Well, it would be uncomfortable.  Almost unbearably so, which is why I end up doing all this 'stuff'.  So I am going to take the challenge and practice, more often, just sitting with the energy to see what happens.  Maybe then the debris of my mind will settle enough to reveal what I am really meant to be doing.  This is going to take a leap of faith and a whole lot of patience with myself.  It will be my experiment in contentment.  I'll let you know how it goes.  I think I can legitimately now say "here goes nothing."