At the end of this post, there is a link to a TED Talk. TED Talks are some of the best and brightest lectures on various topics, delivered in stimulating and captivating ways that engage the audience.
This talk is about the power of being vulnerable, and how it leads to a recognition of oneself as enough. I have been trying to teach this forever. This “I am enough” – it solves most troubles…
Here is a piece of original poetry I wrote when I realized I was enough. Follow it up with the TED Talk at the end….
Woke Up – by Betz King
…and suddenly, after years of small “a” awake, I Awake. On my couch.
Before me, the mantle above the fireplace. A dozen roses hang drying, and above them –
the most glorious expressions of Divinity I can imagine…
Shakti dancing in silver next to the Buddha with his small secretive smile.
Pan, eyes closed, playing his nature pipes, while Krishna and Radha hold hands.
Gaia sitting solid and pregnant and ripe, near Michael slaying the dragon.
Jesus smiling, his arms raised high. My friend sits at His feet, flashing the peace sign.
The stone fountain trickles, the pagan tree stands tall, adorned now in dried flowers and shining suns, and scattered throughout – the green of plants, the colors of cut flowers…
To my right, books. So many books! Their colorful spines are the faces of my dearest friends.
A whole shelf devoted to understanding the Self.
Another shelf for writing, and another for methods of spiritual inquiry.
They lean in tall-short lines, are piled atop one another, await homes on the floor near by…
On the walls, pictures tell stories of God and love and of going on when it seems impossible to do so.
A Priestess knighting her devoted defender, Mary – pregnant, Venus in her sexual splendor, African mothers dancing, and me – Divine Feminine in my own right… my own rite…
“How did I get here?” I sing the Talking Heads refrain.
I look in wonder, at this den, this Temple, I see it all as if for the first time.
Surely I have been building this all along? Surely I hung these pictures?
I collected these expressions of Divinity?
I chose these colors, painted these walls, bought this couch with my husband now gone?
Surely today is not the beginning? And yet, today is the beginning.
Today I Awake. To the here. To the now.
To the “I am enough” and the “my life is enough”.
I shake my head and blink my eyes. I pinch my thigh, older than it has ever been, and tap my own cheek. “Wake up little elf” I say, in my kindest voice. “Be here now”….
Apparently I have been nesting.
Apparently I have been, like Christ says in the 23rd Psalm, preparing a table for mine enemies… for those unclaimed and unloved parts of myself.
Apparently, this is what it looks like.
David Whyte’s “House of Belonging” calls to me from across the room.
Pulling book off shelf, stepping over purring cat, I read….
“This is the bright home in which I live. This is where I ask my friends to come. This is where I want to love all the things it has taken me so long to learn to love. This is the temple of my adult aloneness, and I belong to that aloneness as I belong to my life. There is no house like the house of belonging.”
Closing the book, my heart bursts open with the power of words understanding me.
I am enough, and my life is enough, and I never ever thought I would arrive and I am here.
I write it all down.