Right there, in between the meandering branches of my life,
the shifting sands of time,
the ebbing and flowing waters of my mind,
and the soft current that carries my heart,
there is a bright and constant light
that moves and shines through my existence,
the steady point that reminds and renews me over and over again,
guiding me back like a porch light,
to the warm, quiet, stillness of my eternal home within.
Photo credit: Brian Danahy (from the port of Mykanos, Greece)
Taking away someone’s freedom is the ultimate infringement on being.
When I impose my ideas, my values, and my beliefs on you, I limit your freedom.
When I think that any part of your mind, body, or spirit needs changing, I build barriers to your freedom.
When I create obstacles that exist from my assumptions and preconceptions and believe I do not have the power to change the way we co-exist, you cannot be free.
When I say I am powerless to impact your sense of freedom and that it is totally up to you, I am shirking my obligation to give you space to be free.
It is not just you that controls your ability to be free. If I lose sight of the light of love that shines in every one of us – in you and me – the light that has a right to shine – we cannot be free.
Today I vow to do my best to cultivate your liberation, your resilience and your fortitude, to be free.
The sun typically illuminates the moon.
The moon relying on the sun to be seen.
On occasion they come into complete opposition.
The earth interferes with the sun’s capacity to light the moon.
For a moment there appears to be total darkness.
And then the moon emerges more strikingly in the sky than ever before, full of deep, rich color.
The moon becomes something new,
The dark more luminous,
The sun still shining.
Adversity the catalyst,
Throughout the darkness.
It’s so hard to come out of this cocoon,
Perfectly fitting around me,
The barrier I need to dampen sensations and dull the sharp contrast of the outer world and what’s going on inside of me.
I arrive at the precipice of transformation, the seal broken on my familiar encasing,
The time now ripe for my evolution.
Thinking the hard part is past me,
The formation of this new way of being is here.
And yet as the cocoon slices open, there is no longer a sense of security, of the familiar, or predictability.
These new wings are wet and heavy, my footing unsure.
My nourishment and direction are uncertain.
Yet, I find the courage to spread my wings, scattering the newly applied and still wet coating that will ultimately protect me.
Now settling into this new being,
I look out at the vast horizon.
Vibrant colors, textures and shapes seem distantly familiar,
Invigorating my curiosity,
Reminding me vaguely of what I once was and what I now will be.
It is time.
I flutter my wings.
I am free.
Change can be a trigger for grief when I view it as resulting in something I don’t want, something that requires me to lose what I have.
But when change is received as a marker of accomplishment of a stage or triumph over a challenge, it inspires a sense of renewal and growth.
To receive change in that way requires diligence and optimism. It requires a belief in me that all of my experiences are opportunities to get to know myself better and to play in the dance of life with you, this body, this world, even if it means it looks different along the way.
In this way, change becomes not suffering but nourishing, evolutionary, and a source of freedom.
The more connected I am to you in compassion the more I realize my capacity to give and receive love.
It is in the receiving that I find connection to my higher knowing of my strengths and goodness, of my value and purpose, of harmony and grace.
Love me, but above all may I be capable of receiving that love.
For the love in me becomes the roots and branches of all that I am.
Grief…it’s not about the loss as much as creating and being able to access a little warm place in your heart where you hold that connection forever.
I used to think that grief was the act of severing ties and throwing away something special because it was lost.
But now I know that grief is a process of storing the memories of the specialness of every experience regardless of its labels, conditions, and how it came to be or not be.
Grief is experiencing the loss without getting lost.
Today I begin again…not as a punishment or starting over but launching from a new starting line.
To begin again is to feel into an experience in a new way and invite…and then allow… an unexpected outcome.
To joyously and curiously invite variety, spontaneity, and change in such a way as to begin again and begin again, freely cultivating an openness to the unknown while at the same time feeling stable, connected, confident, and grounded.
To begin again is to be fully present, wildly open, and happy in every moment.
When you are suffering, my smile does not mean I don’t care. It may be that I am just opening my heart more in a time when yours may feel closed off.
I am holding a space of warmth and hope in which you can feel sad but not alone.
Allow my smile to soften your pain and be not a blinding light but a guiding light.
Feeling and noticing love and joy in others does not negate the loss. It just reminds us of our capacity to heal and honor loss without getting lost in it ourselves.
For each of us there is a layer that surrounds and holds our thoughts and feelings, that ties physical material existence to a sense of being. Built into the walls of that container are our beliefs, values, and desires, ever connected and blending with the feelings of others. These characteristics are what give the container strength but can also become places of vulnerability, weakness, and destruction. Stress fractures can begin to appear over time in the container where the values, beliefs, and habits are challenged, become inflexible and brittle.
Signs of wear or weakness are not markers of fault in the container, but a means for assessing whether repair or replacement could be useful. It may be the values and beliefs woven into that section are ready for reconditioning.
When I visualize the materials, tools, and mending — stitching the fabric, soldering the metal, molding the clay – and give myself permission to reshape the container, perhaps even layering different media, I can begin to fill and empty with experiences in a way that projects and protects the me I have come to be.
Monday Mindfulness 