Here I sit in the middle of my couch. Extreme joy balancing on one armrest. Great challenge and sorrow on the other. There are pillows and soft coverings that support me as I lean to one side or the other.
There is excitement and movement, equal levels of engagement and doing required at either end of my couch.
There are days when I slide over to one side and days that I spend a large amount of time on the other. Neither better nor worse. Both engaging my heart and mind in ways that are good for me. Both providing opportunities for me to grow. Both utterly exhausting.
Today I choose not to lean or slide. Today I choose to curl up right here in the middle of it all, to feel the balanced rhythm of my heart, lulled into rest by my breath. Today I remember the weariness in my bones. Today I remember that laughter and crying use the same muscles.
I smile and melt deep into the cushions of my comfy little couch, so happy to have joy and sorrow by my sides.
I repress my urge to howl with joy.
I retract my claws against my primal instincts to lunge when angered.
I stiffle tears to hide my sensitivity and stand strong in the face of the fierest storm.
And, each night I curl up so tighly in my attempt to rest in who I am, with hopes of reconciling who you want me to be with my wild ways within.
In the cold, still hours of dawn, the frost surrounds me. Like a fortress, ice cakes the windows.
Agitation builds as I feel blocked from the broader landscape that lies beyond that wall of ice.
Straining to look past what’s right in front of me, I fear I am unable to move forward, somehow missing out. Life out there is happening without me.
And then my gaze shifts. As easily as the breath transitions from exhale to inhale, I see it…the beauty that lies before me as these little crystals of life come into focus.
Shiny…Small…Magnificent…Fleeting.
They dance before all else that lies beyond and will, as the sun warms them, part to change my view.
For now I rest in the marvel of how they gathered there to share their beauty and their story of the importance of not overlooking what’s right in front of me to hurry to the beyond.
Gliding across the still lake, the swan appears motionless…blending in, yet standing out.
There is an ease to the swan’s movements – small segments of being pieced together to produce strong, elegant, fluid motion…unfolding in a seemless, timeless, effortless evolution.
The swan goes not against the current, but blends into it, rides it, and collaborates with it to create a presence and ease that cannot help but draw the breath from me.
Attuning to the breath, I begin to realize the power and simplicity in the life force that moves so strong, elegantly, and fluidly through me. With refinement of its movement, the breath becomes balanced and smooth. A fullness and simulaneous sense of roaring power and simple stillness come as each segment fully aligns.
In that very breath, I am the swan. In that very breath, I know grace.
In and around, all that exists is love when I allow the low-lying cloud of peace to settle in.
Thought I had the shower all to myself. Turns out a little frog thought the same.
As I hurried around the corner to turn on the water, it sprung from the wall to the ground with a giant splat. The sound was enormous!
My heart recoiled at the explosion. Fear grabbed me. It pulled the breath from my chest. My body tensed from head to toe ready to respond. My mind raced through the options…fight…or…flee…I froze.
It was at that moment I wondered – if I hadn’t been in such a hurry, if I hadn’t been so distracted with thoughts and urgency, would I have had the same reaction?
If I had been truly present and more attuned to my surroundings, would I have rounded the corner more gently? Would the frog and I perhaps have exchanged a glance but then carried on with our business?
Because I was in such a hurry and so distracted, I had created an unsettled space for both the frog and me.
Oh, how fear takes advantage of us and sneaks in to catch us when we are off balance. And how our actions impact others’ experiences. That poor frog would certainly have benefited from a little more care and focus from me…and I would have actually been able to get a shower instead of taking that time to sort through my surging fears and emotions.
