We All Have Our Wobbly Bits
I loved the Bridget Jones Diary movies. I loved how a slightly chubby woman could enthrall some very interesting and handsome men. I loved the plot lines, and of course, I loved Colin Firth.
One of the takeaways from that movie was Bridget’s reference to her body, calling the little rolls of fat “wobbly bits.” Her use of those references pointed out own imperfections, vulnerabilities … our humanness.
Lately, I realize that how many of us are experiencing our own wobbly bits.
A beloved has lost her precious friend, a toy poodle who has been with her through so many life changes. Another friend lost her Maltese terrier, another long relationship through many changes. These losses have created a vacuum within surrounded by tender flesh that longs to be soothed and satisfied. The tenderness cannot be shooed away.
Another beloved realized that the group he joined years ago to serve kids in the community has changed, due to loss of many stalwart volunteers and now run by a small group of people who are bonded together for survival. His membership has been on the board of directors, and he was not part of the inner circle. His presence at meetings was only needed to ensure a quorum.
This week I resurrected a memory of rejection from a person from my past who cut all contact due to old politics. My pain about her rejection is still raw, even now.
When occurrences happen externally, our emotional body responds—and emotions of longing, grief, or pain emerge from our wobbly bits. They might be easy to bury, hiding any recognition of the potency of the pain, but they will not be vanquished.
Wobbly bits are bringing many of us to our place of vulnerability, with a feeling that we have no real foundation of support. They ask us for honest response.
It would be so easy to fall into the trap of self-pity. It would be so easy to build the walls that would ensure we would not be hurt ever again. It would be so easy to judge people who have hurt us. It would be easy to harden against the distress of great loss, never to experience that pain again.
Unfortunately, that short circuits our own electrical system and our ability to be in love with life.
In my book chapter just written about our voltage, I talk of how each of us is asked to be so connected with our True Nature that we can be bathed in self-love and comforted even in the pain of loss or even loss of regard from another.
Our voltage shines bright when we allow the light of our being to guide us along within our circuitry and explore more components of our inner self and its magnificence. Even when the pain of loss is so deep that we feel we want to run from it, we stay with it because that is our way to healing. Even when our feelings have been hurt by the actions of others, we find our footing within our trust in the being that we are—wobbly bits and all. In both circumstances, we experience grace.
The wonderful part is that the light and electrical part of who we are, every one of us, is absolutely part of the electrical energy of the heavenly realms. That is the Source of Love that holds us in our grief. That is the Voice that whispers that we are magnificent, regardless of who feels a need to reject us in this moment.
We are tender beings, with wobbly bits that bring our humanness to our fragile yet willing selves. Feeling all of these parts of our being leads us to our wholeness.
We are perfectly made. We came here to love, and in every single one of these scenarios, love is the reason for the grief and the answer to the hurt feelings.
Each are taking the path that leads to their own soul’s code.
The beloved who lost her poodle used her church hymnal to gather comforting assurances. As she identified small loving phrases, finding reassurance that all was truly well with her soul.
The friend who lost her Maltese traded poetry with me about how deeply love can be felt, affirming that her grief was real and not on any timeline.
Both know that feeling loss is part of loving, and both will heal and shine brightly.
After the man resigned from the board, he went to the local homeless organization and fed 96 homeless people pizza, salad, and green beans. He worked alongside a friend who treasures his participation. The response to his resignation indicated understanding. His honesty was met with respect.
I woke one morning remembering a time when the woman causing my distress walked with me on the streets of Seattle from the Space Needle to our hotel. She shared private information with me, honoring me with her trust. It was a sweet time. It is what I am storing in my memory archives because that is what our souls found together that was meant to be. I have that sweet memory nestled near my wobbly bits, reminding me that all is not the way it seems—that our time in Seattle was true.
I feel much gratitude for my wobbly bits. While they aren’t always comfortable, they remind me that I can learn and love the most when I’m the most open to what life brings. Learning more about our whole self, acknowledging the stinging truths and expressing our truth openly and honestly with no expectations is amazing self-care. The realization that grief is an indication of our ability to love deeply and that is a gift from God. That is our true path in life. Embracing the journey through our feelings journey helps us do a deep dive into the magnificent beings that we are.
We are never alone.
We are always guided.
We are all moving toward the stellar beings that we came here to be.
That’s the magnificence of wobbly bits.
