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.
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.
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.