A little about Effort

I grew up in the high desert and when I was young (until high school) we didn’t have air conditioning. In the hot months, my mother did her best, she opened the windows after the sun went down and closed them before the sun came up.
During the day, the heat didn’t bother me very much. I would play outside and come in with bright red face, ready to drink two tall glasses of good water, one right after the other.
Summer night was a different story. I would go from one place on my bed to another, turn the pillow over, and go from head at the top to head at the foot of the bed, all in an effort to find a cooler spot, until I finally went to sleep.
I learned a technique, that I remember to this day. I would open my body/skin and let the heat out. I found that holding on to the heat was what caused the suffering. A child can learn this because she doesn’t know that it’s not possible.
I fast forward to today.
Recently I was journeying within, ready to let go of what no longer serves me. I envisioned stepping into a fire, completely safe, and the fire was there for me, burning everything that was not myself.
Burning, burning, and the fire felt so good, not hot, but alive, and all a blessing to me because who I am as myself is the beauty that is everything.
I can find the same kind of release into myself in meditation, entrainment happening as the light and sound wash over.
As I grow older, I see the value of all and any of the effort that I have put in to go within and be at home in my place of presence. Sometimes the effort has come from a suffering of some kind, a deep longing for something more, that my soul knew was there for me. Other times it was at the advise of a teacher, without and within, or just seeing something beautiful and going after it.

I am so,so grateful for past and continuing effort.
My advise to myself is, let go of disbelief, return again and again (effort, following my insistent heart) to the place where anything is possible, decide what I want, and allow a way to make it a reality.

Teen-age me, in my sanctuary between my house and Native (reservation) land