Opening to What Is

I've been writing the word "opening" a lot recently. It's in my prayers, it's in my journal, it's coming up as my intention for the day as I commune in the morning. And I wonder about what it really means to me. To open is be fully exposed, right? That's what happens in my head - to be totally available as a human being to what's happening in front of me. The last few days have been filled with a sense of heavy sadness deep in my chest and throat. The kind that makes me feel anchored, nay more tethered than anchored. Anchored feels like more of a grounded word. These sensations that I relate to sadness are very familiar and even a year ago, I would have called this state "debilitating" and a feeling of drowning deep to the heart of me. Typing that out feels deadening. Like the buzzy vibrance of my morning has been pushed aside for a veil much like a dusty curtain that smells like moth balls. But these last couple of days, I'm walking as if with an old friend. Would I rather be open? Would I prefer laughing and my internal sense of connected purpose constantly? Sure, but that's not what's happening and I can even be open to that. This morning as I returned home form spin class and went to cut the brisket I made in the Instant Pot (on the slow cooker setting), I opened (there's that word again) my heart for a split second. "What would I be doing if I weren't fascinated by the knot embedded in my throat? What would I be doing with my time?" The thought came instantly - learning. Learning and teaching. Which today, I view as a very similar verb.