A thirsty fish in water
A pause between Weeks One and Two of the Sacred Ache workshop at Becoming Real
I have the flu. I can’t speak, so I’m unable to record a meditation for this week. Honestly, I can’t really think that well either. So this week, we’re going to take a pause—for sacred rest.
In the past, I might have pushed through - and found a way to MAKE IT WORK. Thank heaven I don’t do that any more. When my body is ill or too weary to continue, I’ve learned to treat this as guidance. A sacred call for rest from a companion that I treasure: my sweet body.
It has taken me years to understand that deep sickness is (almost always) my body’s way of offering guidance. It’s time to pause - which is not a failure, it’s a recalibration — and it can be a teacher. If I sink in and let it have me it becomes a space, an inner cave of self-care that comes around me like soft womb space where I can sleep.
This week, let’s do this one thing.
Read this poem, from Rumi, and reflect on its themes. Then, we’ll come to the comments at the end and see what arises between us.
“Don’t make yourself miserable with what is to come or not to come.
Be quiet now and wait.
It may be the water you long for is already within you,
but you are looking so far away.You are like a thirsty fish in the ocean
searching for water.”
What jumped out for me first was the thirsty fish in the ocean searching for water. How ofren I have missed the grace that is right where I am, offering itself freely.
What caught your ear, your heart when you read the poem?
This week’s exercise
Read the poem aloud (if you can). Or whisper it to yourself like a prayer. Let the words settle inside you. Imagine the stillness of a thirsty fish finally noticing the vast ocean surrounding it.
Consider:
When was the last time life forced you to stop?
What was waiting for you in that stillness—something you hadn’t seen or felt before?
What would sacred rest look like for you this week if you allowed yourself to embrace it fully?
At least once this week, set aside 5–10 minutes each day to “do nothing.”
No screens, no tasks, no distractions. Just sit with yourself. If thoughts arise, notice them and let them drift by, like fish swimming in the ocean.
Give yourself permission to rest without guilt. Sink into the water that is already here, holding you in blessing.
You are held and you are blessed. Always.
Lovely. You model the lesson as the best teachers do.
So beautiful. Take care. Rest well.