A few weeks ago, working through my inbox, I came across an email from Lianne Raymond, a coach and writer, living on Vancouver Island. An excerpt from her email:
I am asking you, as one of the women I look to for thought leadership, to contribute your idea of "what is dying to be born" in the world right now. Maybe it is already in the process of happening and you will shine the light on it -- it doesn't matter: whatever way you want to interpret the phrase is welcomed and encouraged, as part of the beauty of the end product will be our multi-faceted ways of viewing the world, with each view reflecting others.
Contributions to Lianne's ebook ranged from sustainability (what the world needs now) to courage, and from compassion to mischief. I made it personal: What is dying to be born, in me, right now?
The answer came back loud and clear, and as it happens, it is as relevant to all of us as it is to me: presence. Together, in this moment in history, both personally and collectively, we have tremendous opportunities and staggering challenges. Past history and projections into the future offer some insights. Resting in the present moment, with a receptive, "I don't know, spacious mind," enables a kind of vision, all too rare, in our always-on, 24/7 lives.
My contribution and a few questions for you, are below:
I am vigilant. I value competence. I strive to be on top of everything. I am a woman who has climbed the corporate ladder at two Fortune 100 companies. I am a woman who had to advocate for myself through a serious illness. Vigilance was my ally. Or was it?
Even as my steel-toed boots vigilance has navigated life's land mines, it is also blinding, lacking peripheral vision, lacking in any real sight. Vigilance shows us only what we think we'll find. People can only be who we know them to be. No possibility. No surprise. The knowing of vigilance strangles.
Presence is dying to be born. A universe unknown, right here, in this moment, is dying to be born to me, to you, to all of us.
A letting go, as if in totally restful sleep, yet all the while fully awake - there is nothing to do, no one to be, no effort, senses engaged. A moment is an eternity - it's all there is.
Presence is where the world meets us - where we are. Without pushing, without striving.
Presence is where we can welcome another, with love, present fro whoever they may be, opening us to a journey into new landscapes.
Vigilance has its place. Presence is dying to be born.
How do you experience vigilance and presence? What do you think is "dying to be born?"