If our hearts are ready for anything, we are free to be ourselves.
There’s room for the wildness of our animal selves, for passion and play.
There’s room for our human selves, for intimacy and understanding, creativity and productivity.
There’s room for spirit, for the light of awareness to suffuse our moments.
The Tibetans describe this confidence to be who we are as “the lion’s roar.”
Some days I feel like a lion.
Others more like a small cat – still shifty-eyed and crafty, but not so big and loud.
During those lion-days, however, I feel free. Bold enough to use my voice unafraid, playful enough to cartwheel in the snow, and rooted enough to feel peace in my life.
There is power in these days.
Not a power that overwhelms others, or tries to force everything into a mold of its design. Rather it is a power of release.
Of finding my way back to that essential self that flexes its muscles within the very real body, space, time, love and hurt that surrounds it.
Of being honest and real with my expectations, my shortcomings, my successes and my beauty.
It is a power of not being lost, even if for only a moment.
It is not a power of certainty, but rather resting with ambiguity and smiling in the face of it.
The lion’s roar is real. It is hearty, but it is fleeting.
Yet I know it will return, each time surprising me with its force, and delighting me with its presence.
And I’m a goddamn coward but then again so are you, and the lion’s roar, and the lion’s roar.