Earlier this week, I felt as if someone or something had diluted most of my strength and energy. When I could no longer push through the lethargy to keep working, I allowed the depletion to lead me to a coping tool that can sometimes support me in feeling better. I found Jason Stephenson on YouTube some months ago. He has a soothing voice, and guides the listener through deep breathing and guided imagery. This is what happened...
During the meditation, I envisioned myself in a warmly lit room surrounded by walls of eclectic drawers--blue, turquoise, rose,white, teal and red. Orange. When I opened a drawer, it contained an element of my life--a memory or a photo or an event. There was no judgment or anxiety on my part toward any object or memory I discovered in the drawers. The multitude of remembrances and memory created an alchemy that yielded a valuable whole.
A chair was positioned in the middle of the room, facing a new set of drawers that I'd not yet examined or opened. I sat on the chair's soft and expansive cushions and fell silent in my solitude. I could hear my breath. I relaxed. I sensed that one of the drawers contained an object. I rose from the chair, pulled open the drawer and found a folded sheet of paper. This ended the meditation, and I felt curious about what might be written on that sheet of paper.
In my study I have decorative containers with lids. I hide scraps of paper with quotes, ideas, and Scripture written on the strips that I want to remember. After the meditation, I lifted the lid from one of my vases and pulled out the first piece of paper my fingers touched. I unfolded the paper to read:
But I will sing of your mighty strength and power; yes, I will sing aloud of your mercy and loving-kindness in the morning; for You have been to me a defense (a fortress and a high tower) and a refuge in the day of distress.~Psalm 59:16.
That morning, I'd read Psalm 59 as a means to help me start the day. And while I always love the Psalms, the beauty and poetry of the Word did not refuel the emptiness that I felt.
But then God in His mercy, kept pursuing me, even in my fatigue. He led me to the meditation and the room of drawers, helping me to embrace the beauty and alchemy of my life and encouraging me that there were more drawers to fill as I move forward. I asked myself, "What do I want to fill my drawers with now as I move forward into a 'new normal'?" "What will I create?" "What will I let go?"
Perhaps you'd like to sit in your metaphorical room of drawers and rest a bit. To pause and slow your pace. To gather your courage and anchor into peace. Listen to your life and breath. God's grace and strength be with you.