A Goddess is Continually Learning and Evolving

I was awoken each day this week to sounds of scraping and pounding--not the most pleasant way to greet the day.  The sounds, I soon discovered, were coming from my neighbor's house.  Each day, I observed men power washing and scraping paint from the house.  The progress was painfully slow.  It seemed there were hours of these sounds, with little to show for all the noise.  Somehow, though, I found myself a bit mesmerized by the work they were doing.  These small pieces of paint were being chipped away, leaving an unattractive, multi-colored mess on the side of the house. 



As I considered this process, I began thinking about my own transformation.  In the process of learning and evolving, there are times when my own "siding" doesn't look so good.  The process can be painful and slow, and in the middle, things can look downright ugly.  Whether I'm working on my health (losing weight, working out), on my mind (reading, viewing webinars), or on my spirituality (meditating, reflecting), the process can be frustrating. In the middle of change, I find myself wondering if it's all worth it.  Sometimes it feels like I'm putting for great effort with barely noticeable results. 

Like a homeowner with her home, I have to assess my life periodically and see which parts need work.  I have to identify the part that requires attention then figure out the best method for creating change.  For a painter, this entails using a little power washing to tackle the weakest pieces of paint followed by some scraping.  For me, the power washing comes in the form of cleaning out the cupboard and refrigerator or getting that gym or yoga membership or scheduling time for meditation.  This is all setting the stage for the transformation that will follow.  The scraping is the slow deliberate process of making the right choices around food, exercise, and my thoughts each day. When I'm just starting to exercise, my stamina is low and my coordination may be weak.  When I start to meditate, my mind wanders wildly as I try to bring it back to thinking of nothingness.  And, like the side of a house cleared of its paint, I can feel a little exposed--even if only to myself.

Being in the middle of a process isn't always comfortable, but it's necessary to get to the other side.  So, as I take care of my body and mind, I need to accept that the breaking down and building up may not always feel good.  But in the end, after the paint chips are removed and the edges are smoothed down, the end result will all be worth it.