Do I even believe in wholeness? Not really.
I was in a group last week and the leader asked us what kind of spiritual practice we had that was helping us become whole.
I thought – what does that even mean to me? Whole.
Do I even believe in wholeness? Not really.
We are always incomplete, always missing something, always imperfect.
Never whole.
But I knew what she was getting at. She wasn’t trying to get at wholeness in a perfection sense, but in some other sense. But she wasn’t going to define it for us. She was going to let us define it for ourselves.
For me…
Wholeness is:
Being able to sit with what is missing: in me, in life, in others and be at peace.
It is not feeling the need to fix, control, strive to move from the current place of lack to place of non-lack But it’s not a numbing to the desire. Not a detachment from the longing for the place of non-lack.
Instead it’s the ability to feel all the strength of desire and longing and be completely in love with the longing, without needing to fulfill it.
That’s the closest I can get to love and grace co-existing in me.