After the Destroyer comes the Lover, and then the Creator. Destruction isn’t the end, just like the Happy Ending isn’t the end. As Pema Chodron says, things come together, and fall apart, and come together, and fall apart. There isn’t despair in this, though. It is just the nature of the world, and we, each, individually, are also creators of the world.

I’m bouncing back and forth this morning between honoring the falling apart, the letting go (making sure not to skip over that process or rush out of it prematurely), and fostering the little flutter of knowing that has returning to me. Another view of Pema’s idea would be that we wake up, and fall asleep, and wake up, and fall asleep. When I wake up and notice the tiny silver thread, the lifeline that will guide me back to consciousness, to empowerment, to choice, to agency, I grab it. I don’t know yet how I’ll pull myself up but the act of seeing it and hanging on is all it takes. I’ve shifted and I start to remember the truth. I am not a victim.

I know that creating safety in my body using breathwork and meditation and nature and hugs and sleep helps me wake up more. And I look around and see how safe I am in the moment. I remember to reframe my experiences, and that I can write any story about them that I want. I am grateful for the opportunity to spend so much time with my family and loved ones. I am safe, housed and fed. My breath flows in and out of my lungs and my miracle of a body dutifully toils away, regulating a zillion functions and I don’t have to manage any of that. I remember to be kinder to it, and stop making it work so hard to clear out all of the toxins and junk that’s accumulating from eating too much junk food. I remember to appreciate my legs and torso and mysterious heart, and my brain and ego self working so hard all the time to keep my safe. I remember to remind my little ego self that she’s actually safe, and we can do hard things and not be obliterating, and I’ve got the wheel now, thank you. I remember that the mind is a terrible master, but a wonderful servant, and I put it to the task of thinking of other things to be grateful for. I ask it to come up with examples of meaning and power and transformation that have happened through struggle. That embracing hard things is an option, and always leads to new, bright, shiny, uncharted territory.

Talking to a friend yesterday we decided that if we could release the fear and judgement of suffering, or challenge, or hard things, and embrace them as a beautiful and necessary part of the whole system, that we could move through them consciously. Not trying to go around or shorten the duration or race through the valley on the way to the mountaintop, but know the value in the falling apart, the dissolution, and the discomfort, and then work with the natural paradigm of evolution to reach the Grace that follows. Do it on purpose.

That’s the idea behind making our bed every day (I should go do that), or taking a cold shower, or sticking with a practice of any kind. Breathe. Meditate. Walk. Stretch. Breathe. When that’s easy, do something a little harder. Find whatever is specifically uncomfortable, and meet it. It trains us to engage with life and move through uncomfortable things. It reminds us of our agency.

So that’s the Creator archetype that is emerging from within me, after allowing myself to fall down. I’m going slowly and gently, leaning into the discomfort, and watching it dissolve, and remembering to be grateful. I’m holding the Destroyer archetype as sacred, as well. I’m in paradox between them and finding, as always, safety and love at the center.