Effortless love,
Allowing life to be life.
With noise-cancelling headphones,
I'm sitting in the corner of this quaint café,
Listening to romantic-themed classical music.
The café's busyness is drowned out and their teen pop music goes unheard.
All I hear is a wordless story told through piano and cello.
A love song,
For sure,
Somehow celebrating the miracle of being human and our ability to connect deeply.
It's a beautiful soundtrack as I watch people live their lives,
Mostly enjoying their vacation here on Panglao Island in the Philippines.
The locals make drinks,
Prepare food,
And serve their guests with welcoming smiles.
Life is happening.
Life goes on and on.
Surely it was the same yesterday and will be something similar tomorrow.
Yet,
As I sit quietly in my little corner,
Making a concerted effort to avoid the cheesecake on display,
I'm touched by the stillness holding space for it all.
There's a gentleness that simply allows.
Allows everyone and everything to be as it is.
It allows the coming and going,
The conversations,
Every thought,
Even the ice melting into my coffee diluting the flavour I was just enjoying.
This space of gentleness,
Of allowing,
We can call it life itself,
Is always there,
Allowing it all to be.
What's so interesting and even funny is how I can recognize the part of me that wants to resist so much.
Resist life being life.
Resist the ice melting into my coffee.
Resist the music choice or the loudness of conversations.
In this,
My resistance is perfectly allowed by this gentle space of stillness.
Yet when I examine my resistance and recognize the beauty of life simply being life,
It's obvious that my resistance isn't necessary.
I wonder how much tension I collect throughout the day,
Resisting what doesn't need to be resisted.
Then,
Of course,
There's the invitation to not resist my resistance.
It's a reminder not to judge any resistance that shows up.
Resistance is allowed.
If we judge it,
If we resist the resistance,
When can we learn from it?
What I find in allowing resistance is that it's actually kind of adorable.
I notice that the resistance within me isn't really mine.
It's not my resistance.
It's just conditioning,
An assumption carried into now from the past.
These patterns of resistance were designed to protect the self I thought I was.
Yet,
As I see more of what I truly am,
I see these patterns are no longer needed.
It makes sense they were there,
Based on what I once believed about myself,
Others,
And life.
Clearly,
The spiritual journey invites me to see how life loves and allows.
It inspires me to question if I can love like that too.
The path to love that flows effortlessly isn't found by trying to love.
I can't force my way to effortless love.
The path is more about getting me out of the way and seeing the love that's already there.
Because,
Of course,
All the resistance that wants to withhold love is in service to how I think things should be.
The me,
Who I think I am,
Is trying to control life,
Rather than allowing it.
It's funny,
Really,
Because in that effort,
There's an assumption that life is getting it wrong.
Well,
That's cute.
