I put out my hand and selected one of the angel cards fanned out and extended toward me. The card had one word on it. “Look at your word, let it permeate you,” we were told. I drew air in deeply filling my lungs as I sat in a chair trying to keep my back straight. I let the air out and heard others’ whooshing the air out of their lungs as they also exhaled. I tried to relax my tight neck and shoulders and listened as the meditation leader guided our breaths and thoughts. See your word and think of how it is you… As I continued to breathe deeply and slowly and thought about my word I felt it was a cornerstone of who I am and what I value. Truth.
I kept my index finger of my left hand on the corner of the card that rested on my left leg towards my knee somehow needing to be connected physically to the card and my word.
Truth – so important to me.
Truth – so much easier to accept than lies.
Whose truth? I wondered. Is truth actually anything tangible? Is truth anything more than an interpretation? A perception? Why would my truth have more value than someone else’s? Is truth just a set of beliefs? Is it ego that drives me to think truth has value? What if what I believe to be true is just my ego or just my perception?
“Focus on your breathing, if your thoughts wander acknowledge them and bring yourself back to your word,” I heard.
Truth. Truth. Funny I should pick that. No one seems to want to hear the truth or my truth. Truth doesn’t seem valued. I’ve been experiencing people telling me to detach from what is out of my control and they act like everything is good and there’s no acknowledgement when projects derail and people aren’t held accountable and why is truth so unwanted in certain circles? I wonder.
Back to breathing in deeply and out deeply and the tears are filling up inside my eyelids and I’m wondering where I fit. Where does truth fit? Why do I feel so alone like I’m hanging off a cliff, clinging to truth like it’s my only connection to safety? Does truth define me? I sure let other’s dismissal of truth define them. What if the truth evaporated I ask myself, would I feel differently? The tears threaten to escape from between my eye lids.
“Bring your awareness back to the room and when you are ready, open your eyes.”
I open my eyes, and when asked, I quietly share my word. “Truth,” I say still fighting the tears. I hug the meditation leader and he whispers in my ear, “I continue to pray for you.”
I walk down the long hallway after I exit the room a co-worker walking by reaches out, grabs my hand gives it a squeeze and continues walking. A few steps later another hugs me. Still later after gathering myself together with the help of my friend and office-mate I notice a note of appreciation on the door and there it is. It hits me. That is my truth. People care and the ones who care – they know my truth, they are my truth and I am okay.